Starting Daycare and Saying Goodbye

Dear Miss Faith,

               My little guy is starting daycare and while I’m sure that it will be a wonderful, loving place for him, I am dreading dropping him off and saying goodbye.  We have had a hard time with babysitters lately.  Do you have any advice for helping it go smoothly?

Dear Mama,

               Yes!  I have helped many families adjust to saying goodbye for the first time, and what I’ve seen is this:  the thing that makes the most difference for a child is the parent’s attitude.  When a parent feels bad that a child is crying, and lingers as a result, children often continue crying for a long time, even after the parent has managed to drag herself away.  I think that when a parent does this, the message she is sending is, “I don’t want to leave you here, but I have to.”  The way the child interprets this is,  “Mom doesn’t want to leave me here; I AM NOT SAFE HERE.”    

The biggest gift you can give your child is to say, with every ounce of your being, “I am leaving you in the best of hands.”  You don’t have to say this out loud; transmit it through your actions, through your attitude.  This doesn’t mean that you don’t acknowledge his feelings: it’s hard to watch you leave!  You can be compassionate without feeling guilty for causing the grief. “I know that saying goodbye is hard, AND I know that you’ll have a good time while I’m gone.  I love you so much, and I am leaving you in the best of hands.”

But what if I AM feeling guilty?  It is heart-wrenching to walk away when my little one is crying his heart out and reaching out to me. 

It seems like one more hug could only help, right?  But no.  Remember, you know that this is going to be a wonderful, loving place for him.  You told me that in your letter.  That’s why you chose this place.  So, if that is true, then being there won’t be a hardship for him; it’s only the process of watching you leave that is hard.  In that case, the longer you draw out the process of leaving, the longer you’re drawing out his feelings of unhappiness.  Be loving, and firm in your knowledge that this is the best choice for your family, and say goodbye.  If you go out to your car and cry, that’s OK.  This is a big transition for both of you.  But don’t let those guilty feelings make your son’s separation even harder than it needs to be. (One thing that can help is to ask your caretaker to call you if he hasn’t stopped crying after a certain amount of time.)

I tried doing what you said, but he runs after me and latches onto my legs, so the caretaker has to pull him off of me.  That feels terrible!

I bet that feels terrible for everyone!  It sounds like your little guy may feel safer with a ‘hand-off.’  Hold him while you’re coming in, and when it’s time to go, put him into the arms of his caretaker.  Then blow a kiss and wave goodbye.  It’s important that you’re handing him over to the caretaker, so that she doesn’t have to be in the position of pulling him away from you.  Remember, you want to be giving your son the message that you are making a good decision and he will be safe here. 

On the first day, drop-off was OK, but it seems like it’s getting worse and worse. 

My experience is that the first day is often deceptively easy, because your child doesn’t know what’s in store!  Then days two, three and four get worse and worse, as he starts to realize that this is a regular thing!  But by day five he has started to bond with his caretaker, so it's a little better, and day six is a little better still.  Once that bond is established there may still be some crying, but he should be easily comforted by his caretaker after you leave.  If your child is only going two days a week, this process might be a little bit slower, as it will take him more time to bond with someone he is not seeing as frequently. 

So, know that learning to say goodbye is a process, and don’t lose faith!  Continue letting him know that you are leaving him in the best of hands, and don’t draw out the process of saying goodbye.     If your child is still really having a hard time after this period, make some time (not at drop-off!) to talk to your caretaker.  How long does he cry after you leave?  Is he bonding with her and with any of the other children?  If he's not bonding well, it may be that being in a big group is overwhelming for him still, and he'd do better with a sitter or a nanny at home.  Many children are not ready to be in a group setting without mom until they are at least three years old.  If it seems that he IS bonding with her, ask if there’s anything you could be doing differently, that would help his transition.  She may well have some ideas.

Warmly,

Miss Faith

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Using Imagery

Children, even more than adults, think in images. When we speak to children using imagery, it speaks directly to their imaginations. Whether or not we are conscious of this, anyone who has spent time with young children uses imaginative imagery: when we want a child to come to the table, and they're underneath it pretending to be a cat, we will enter into the fantasy easily. “Come to your your chair, little kitty,” we'll call, and pet them when they climb up. As we get practice, we start introducing imaginative imagery of our own to help children move in the direction we want. “The train's leaving. Climb aboard! Chugga-chugga, chugga-chugga. Toot-toooot!” They are happy to go out the door and into the car if it has suddenly transformed into a train. But in addition to imaginative imagery, knowing that children think in images can change the way we talk to them, even in mundane matters. There are three ways that I do this all the time.

Building A New Experience
The first way that I use imagery is in helping children prepare for new or unusual experiences. When I worked at Boulder Waldorf Kindergarten, I used to take a small group of children each week to visit my grandmother at the Waldorf-inspired assisted-living home a few blocks away. I would usually take three 2-year-olds and and a 1-year-old, by myself. As you can imagine, things had to go smoothly! And they did. I prepared the way by talking about what was going to happen. Each day for four or five days before we went for the first time, I talked about it, telling it as if it were a story. “Not today, but someday soon, we'll go on a trip to visit my Grandma Kathy,” I would start, in my storytelling voice. “On that day, we'll be eating lunch just like today. After we finish our lunch, we'll scrape our bowls, and put our napkins away. Then we'll get our jackets on,” (I mime putting mine on) “and we'll put our shoes on, and when we're all ready, we'll go outside and climb into the blue wagon. Then away we'll go, to Grandma Kathy's house!” I'll pause, to let them absorb the image. “On the way there, I'll pull you in the wagon and I'll sing a song, and you will each sit straight and tall, listening to me sing the whole way there. When we get to Grandma Kathy's house, we'll say, 'Hello Grandma Kathy!' And I 'll give her a kiss on the cheek. Then we'll color pictures, and read a book, and when we're done playing, we'll get back in the wagon and come back here, to our very own classroom.”

When the day finally came, we spent the morning baking banana bread to bring to Grandma Kathy's house, and when it was finally lunchtime, the children could hardly contain their excitement. Today was the day! After lunch, each of the children knew exactly what to do. They were living the story! The visit went as smooth as could be, and visiting Grandma Kathy became one of the highlights of each week.

Right Before
The second way I use imagery is to create an image right before something is about to happen. If we're coming inside on a snowy day, I'll pause right outside the door. “When I open the door, we'll both go inside and you'll sit right down on the Changing Chair to take off your boots.” Or, at Grandma Kathy's, “When the wagon stops I'll lift you out one by one, and you'll all stay right next to the wagon so we can walk to the door together.” Using this type of very-specific, realistic imagery can be very reassuring to children, as they know exactly how things are going to be. Sometimes they will still get distracted and forget the image, but many more times than not, they will live into it. It works with children as young as almost-two, and works with my big five-year-olds.

Picturing Change
The third time I will use realistic imagery is when I'm frustrated with a child's behavior, and I will use it to create the possibility of a future where they act differently. I use a light touch light touch with this. After picking up a dropped spoon at the table for the umpteenth time, I'll muse out loud, as if to myself, “Some day I bet you'll keep your spoon in your bowl for the entire meal. Maybe even tomorrow!” And I'll sit back down. You never know. It probably won't be tomorrow, but it MIGHT be. I've set the scene.

New Experiences

Anyone who has spent any time around a toddler knows that young children love repetition. Children love hearing the same stories over and over, love playing the same games with you over and over, love hearing the same songs. The word “again!” is one of the first words a young child learns. With experiences, when things are done the same way each time, the child can relax into the rhythm of it. If each evening you you do things the same way, your child will anticipate each step as it comes. After tooth-brushing is done, she will be heading right to the bookcase to choose a book. After the lights went out, my mother used to light a candle near our bed, sing a lullaby, blow out the candle and sit quietly next to the bed as I drifted off. I can clearly remember this routine being relaxing and reassuring to me.

Why do children love and need routine so much? Here's an analogy that I think is apt: once I was invited by a Muslim friend to go to the mosque with her for the celebration of Eid, the end of Ramadan. I eagerly said yes, curious to see what it would be like. Once we got there, however, I was quite nervous. I wasn't used to wearing the head-scarf she had lent me. I didn't know what was going to happen, and what would be expected of me. Should I stand with them while they prayed, or should I watch? If I watched, where should I sit? There were no chairs. I had heard that in some cultures, showing the soles of your feet was rude. Was this one of them? I didn't know. I followed my friend around closely. She introduced me to the women in her community, some of whom kissed me on the cheeks, and some of whom touched their hearts and murmured phrases that I assumed meant “nice to meet you.” She showed me where I could sit during the prayers, which were all in Arabic and involved lots of movements and everyone did at the same time. I was glad to be watching. After, we socialized and ate strange and delicious foods, then went home. The whole thing lasted perhaps two hours, and I was exhausted.

I loved that glimpse into another culture, but I was glad to get home in the end, where I knew exactly where everything was, how things went, what was likely to happen, and how. Most of my daily interactions are just a small step out from being at home, because I've done them all hundreds of times. Toddlers, however, haven't done anything outside the home hundreds of times. I believe that the whole world outside the home is like that visit to the mosque, for these little people in our lives. They don't know how things go or what's appropriate. They don't have the skills to converse easily with others or do what others are doing. Even though they have someone who knows what's going on to show them around, it's still exhausting, like that visit was for me. If we can remember that, and limit the amount of exposure our children have to new experiences, then new experiences can be exciting, something to be anticipated beforehand, relished at the time, and talked about afterward.