The Post Where I Can Now Say Whatever The Hell I Need and Want To Say Again

Have you read Surfacing? It's a stealthily devastating novel, beautiful and horrible and exhausting and exotic and bewildering and interesting and deep and true and dark. It is about the dark layers of water and land, the loamy soil farthest down where bodies sink to decay and be threaded with worms, it is the sunken black blue socket of ocean floor where light is only from the bodies of strange, alien creatures that mystify and terrify. If you could read my face you would read a novel like this today. Today I run my fingers across the bottom and because I have children I think, I would like to lie there, not: I will lie. I will lie down and rest now. 

I'm so tired. I have no complaint that is better than yours or worse than what could be, only the steady and slow decay of hope that life will get easier. I had to quit my job.

I had to quit.

When I birthed Dakota at 19 and held him, nursed him, took him home to lay next to his skinny little newborn body, I said one thing over and over, a fierce promise against the past and for a life of connection, I said I will not leave you. I will not leave you. This meant a million things, it meant I would not let him cry itout- what comes out?- it meant I would not use words to hurt him and turn my back, it meant I would not leave him as a baby or toddler. Over the last seventeen  years it is, to my remembrance, the only line in the sand I have drawn. I will do work I don't want to do at places I don't want to do it, I will put up with rude co-workers and miserable conditions, I will work overtime and I have worked outside work, on the side, all to make it happen. What we do. But. 

I told Mr. Curry, before we were married, there were just a few things he needed to know. Just three.

One of those things was that I would not leave any child of mine in daycare or preschool, nor be separated from them daily, before they were at least 2, or 3. Everyone has their touchstones. Everyone has their demons. Everyone has their secret reasons. I cannot leave my children in the care of another person all day when they are very small. It kills a part of who I am. And if that is dramatic, so be it. It is the same reason I could never have an abortion. Not because I don't think anyone should. Because I know myself, and I know I can't.  It's because there are few things I am solid on in life, and one of them is that when my children are babies and toddlers, I need to be with them, and they need to be with me.  Whatever sacrifices we have had to make in order for this to be true, all were worth it. The connection between my children and I is a daily, living, powerful thing, not something that surfaces only with disaster or heartbreak. It is a connection that I make with working class hands day in and day out from the moment they are born, it is a connection made of human sweat, tears, exhaustion, laughter, physical, emotional, mental and spiritual love, and it is forged inside of time. Moment after moment after moment, strung together until they are similar to atoms, DNA, building blocks, every turn of Ever's head for a baby's silent questioning about what she is seeing or hearing; I am guiding. I am doing. I am loving. That is a mother, to me. That is what I know is a mother, and the promise I made myself and my son 17 years ago has come home again and again, arms full, as I raise four children. 

PART ONE

I had an agreement at work that I could stay with Ever. In the baby room. Something we verbalized during the pregnancy with the baby I lost, and I reconfirmed with Ever's pregnancy, something that was confirmed to me by another person in management only months before. Before now. Before a week ago when I was told that I could not take care of her anymore. So technically, the agreement held. I was technically in the same room as her.  But really? In reality, I would not be her teacher anymore, and not in the same room as her most of the day, as her schedule and mine conflict as we come in and out of the room from stroller rides, outside time, big room time, onward. Most of the day is spent with her gone from me.  I was told in a room full of babies and other adults, while I was changing a diaper. When I gave my two week notice, no compromise was offered after I explained my reason.  I've worked at this place a long, long time. I've loved many things about this job. At times, this place of work has helped me kindly.

As I thought about what to do, the weekend passed. I went back to work. A coworker in another room entirely noticed that on that day, I had Ever with me, when I wasn't supposed to, per the new groups and schedule. She shooed Ever with her hand, ' Come on Ever, let's go back to where you belong, in Group XXX. '  Um. Hell no. I shooed Ever back. Coworker got shaky, squeaky voiced, red faced. Why, she demanded to know - and her voice was demanding- was I not following the carefully crafted schedule that had been set up. She didn't know that one of the teachers in my classroom had gone home sick, or that half our class hadn't shown up for work that day, and the other teacher and I could not 'keep out groups'. But it was none of her business to know this, or not know it. It's not her classroom. She's just that type of person. She's also the type who met me and decided I needed to be taken down a peg. It never fails to amuse me SO MUCH how I meet women who become pissy with me because they think I have such a great, easy, blessed life, with my husband and four beautiful kids and my job where I bring my baby and whatever else they see. Knowing nothing about my life other than snippets they see or hear. Knowing nothing of the backbreaking work is has taken to keep this all going.  Knowing nothing, they judge and their judgement is 'needs to be taken down a peg'.  This coworker went directly to my supervisor and complained- I would bet my nails on it- that I was spending too much time with Ever. That was part of the reason why they decided to do the change. 

PART TWO

We had a meeting to discuss 'what happened' and if I wrote down a transcript of what was said, you wouldn't believe it. 

SUPERVISOR ' So we are here because xxx happened, correct? '

ME ' Yes '

COWORKER FROM HELL (to supervisor) ' Yes well I was incredibly concerned that your well crafted plan wasn't being followed, I mean, when I work somewhere I care about the entire place, not just my own classroom, I'm dedicated to the preschool, I know how much time and effort you put into this elaborate plan and it's such a good plan and I couldn't stand to see it not followed, I just didn't understand... ' And on and on like this, for a good five minutes.  I looked out the window. It was a really pretty day. I saw the raven that hangs around with one leg. He's so cool.

SUPERVISOR ' Yes well I know you tend to have your level go up quickly when you are upset, '

(this to CFH)

ME ' ???? '

SUPERVISOR ' But really you should come to me when you have a thought like this. '

COWORKER FROM HELL ' Oh well I get that but AND HERE SHE BASICALLY REPEATS VERBATIM HER ENTIRE SPEECH SHE SAID A MINUTE AGO. ' 

ME Looking out the window at the trash truck passing by. Ever loves trash trucks.

SUPERVISOR (to both of us) ' Yes well we will be sure to follow the schedule though, right. Because that is the point, they have to get used to other teachers.  '

COWORKER FROM HELL ' Yeah if Ever is attached to your hip all day that's not good, she won't transition.'

ME ' I can't hit people. It goes against my religion. I mean, I'm not religious, but if I was, surely assault would not be OK. I like the IDEA of religious values. So I'll abstain. '

So that's how that went.  Never mind the fact that toddlers don't get used to anything MONTHS BEFORE it actually happens. They can't retain shit, anyone who had taken a single child development class can tell you that. It's why they say don't tell small kids that someone is going to die months before, because they won't retain it anyway. Or if you move. Same advice. Same reasons. Ever is 17 months. She has a long way to go before I had to worry about moving her to the two class. Also? Lola, same parenting, was put into full time preschool at 2 and half and transitioned seamlessly, never even CRIED. That's what happens when your kids are ready. Also? Ever was not attached to my hip all day, not even close. 

For example: The next day at work, I left Ever and three other todders with my supervisor to go on my break. A little girl who is really attached to me cried her eyes out the whole time I was gone, and Ever didn't even blink. Because she feels safe. Because she is safe. She runs around and plays and LOVES it there. 

PART THREE

As Mr. Curry spent days talking about what to do- or not- I went to work on Friday, and this happened: a coworker who has a baby in the baby room had a supervisor come in, assert herself, take over naptime, and assumed control of putting said coworker's baby down to sleep. He cried for a half hour. Screamed, they said. As the supervisor, who my coworker's baby doesn't even know and isn't familiar with, 'put him to sleep.' 

What did you do? I asked her. She shrugged and sighed. Tried to not hear it. 

I knew then. I had to quit.

You know I"m nursing her, right? A toddler. I nurse her to go down to nap, around noon, sometimes a bit earlier or later, and then again when she wakes up. And most days that is it. But it's enough. I have no doubt that nursing a toddler, even in the corner behind cribs with a blanket over her head, is bothering someone ( not naming here ) enough to be an issue.

Damnit.

Damnit, damnit, damnit.

One more week to go. 

I am looking for a job twofold: one as a nanny, bringing Ever, another telecommuting, online, as a writer, editor, social mediasta, et al. Whichever comes first. I am looking at the applications as they slip through my hotmail account into the black hole of the internet. I get no response. I spend hours crafting cover letters for jobs that I would love to have, and ones I would just take, anyway.

One more paycheck.

Then???

PS
I'm so sorry my comments aren't working. Every week I get emails and FB messages that you can't comment, and honestly, it's making me really bummed out. I miss you guys, I miss your voices, I miss talking shit out with you. All my settings are correct, so I don't know what the problem is, and I can't pay someone. Trying to get someone who can help me figure it out.

xo