Posted by: Hannah | 02/23/2016

none of these fair-haired children are mine

It’s been a long time since I updated on the status of the dayhome kids – mostly because I’m being very cautious about their identities in the online world. I have a much larger contingent of local Twitter followers than I used to, and Halifax is a tiny little city.

So at the moment I am juuuust about full, and I have a signed contract & deposit in place for a new little to take Daisy’s spot when she ages out this fall.

Today we’ve got:

  • my own three (now aged 10, 7, and 4, because the landslide will bring you down, yo)
  • Daisy, aged 4
  • Charlie, aged 2.5
  • Baby Girl, aged 20 months (haven’t come up with a name yet)

This is the usual roster. Fridays at day’s end when Charlie and Baby Girl have left, my nieces come for an hour. This summer, Charlie will take afternoons off so Baby Boy can start full time.

It’s a bit of juggling to never go over the six children I’m limited to as a mixed-age dayhome (mixed-age meaning school aged and younger) but it works, as long as everyone cooperates.

What’s hilarious is that all of my dayhome kids are fair-skinned and fair-haired. The kind of fair skin that looks translucent in strong light. The kind that makes me despair for my summer sunscreen budget. Especially in the younger ones, their hair is so light and fine that from a distance, they look bald – and Baby Boy is the same.

In essence, I’ll have three Charlie Browns with me wherever I go, this summer.

The irony here is that I have really found my feet in this childcare business, with only 18 months to go until the planned dayhome closure. I hardly ever get contacted by sketchy clients anymore. I have a multi-page policy handbook and a solid contract. I’ve even figured out how to do the odd craft without losing my mind.

I don’t know what the lesson here is, or even if there is one. I’ve taken the path of helping anyone just starting in the private dayhome business to not make the same mistakes I did. I want someone to benefit from my hard-won experience, even if that someone isn’t me.

 

 

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