From Diapers to Desktops…

Let me pose a question to you; Do you work at your dream job? A profession you’ve loved since you were young, that fills your heart and soul with joy? A place that you actually enjoy going to every day?… I do. Well, I did. And okay, maybe it wasn’t my DREAM job, but it was my life for a long time, and I was damn good at it.

When I was 16 years old, I was at Christmas dinner with my extended family and my cousin’s wife happened to mention that she worked in childcare. She was an educator at a Montessori daycare. Did I know what Montessori was at the time? Definitely not. But she had me at “daycare”.

As you all likely remember, in high school, when you hit Grade 12, you better damn well know what you want to do with the rest of your life! I, like all of you (probably), had no idea. But when my cousin’s wife was talking to me, it was like a lightbulb went on in my head. I had always loved children and at the time, aside from also working at Tim Hortons, I made most of my money through babysitting. Why had it never occurred to me to look in to childcare as a career?

After heeding my family’s advice, I applied to the Early Childhood Education program at my local college. I was accepted, and I spent the next two years in school learning the basic skills needed to work in daycare, as well as completed three placements. I graduated and immediately began working as a supply teacher at one of the centres I had been placed in during my schooling. I continued on to university, while maintaining my supply teacher status and working in daycares when I was able.

After my university graduation, I took some time to re-think my life goals. I had just graduated with a bachelor’s degree in Art History. In the three years post college, I studied subjects that had absolutely nothing to do with children. Did I really want to work with kids for the rest of my life? I had rekindled my childhood passion for art and swore I would work at an art gallery, or at least in the field of art… Turns out, that life proved more difficult to obtain than I had originally thought.

When the art thing didn’t work out, I fell back on my first passion. I was fortunate enough to be hired at the daycare my brother and younger cousins had attended when we were children. It was a crazy time warp to be back there as an adult, but I fell in love with the field of childcare again and I knew I had made the right choice. I believe strongly in signs, so I was receptive when it became clear that the Universe had other plans. The art thing just wasn’t in the cards for me (though it is still a huge passion of mine), and I know for a fact that I was meant to work with kids.

I worked at that daycare for three years. Were they the best years of my life? Absolutely not. I worked in both the preschool room, and the toddler room. The children were some of the cutest, funniest, sweetest beings I had ever come in contact with. They lit up my days with their smiles and their laughter. I absolutely loved being there for those kids.

The owner/Director of this centre, however, was a tyrant. She ran that place like a sweat shop and refused to compensate her staff accordingly. I was unceremoniously fired from that job because I spoke up for myself against another teacher. A teacher who happened to be best friends with the owner. Nepotism, much? I contacted the labour board and, fortunately, they found that I had been unlawfully terminated, and I was therefore compensated with EI until I found my next job.

At the time, I was still with my (ex)boyfriend. He had just been accepted to college in a little town about an hour and a half north-west of where we were living. Getting fired was actually perfect because it allowed me time to pack up our place and go look for new apartments in our new town. We found a place, and I began applying at every daycare I could find. The problem was that none of these daycares were offering the same wages as the big city paycheques I was used to. Let’s be clear though, teachers and educators make shit money regardless, but in this small town, the pay rates were much lower than I had been receiving.

Still, I eventually found a job at a military daycare one town over from where I had just moved to. Only about a 15-minute drive, not too bad. I was hired to work the Before and After School program for the Jr. and Sr. Kindergarteners. It was a split-shift, though. So not only was I making less money, but I also had to both open and close the centre. At the time, however, none of that mattered to me. I was just happy to be working at a centre that valued my skills and ambition in this field. I felt so supported and encouraged by the Director of this centre, and I made so many friends there. Many of the educators at that first daycare were snotty bitches. Yes, I made some friends, whom I’m still in contact with today, but over all it was a very toxic work environment.

Not at this new centre, though. At this place, it really felt like everyone was on the same team. Everyone just wanted to provide the best care possible for these children. Children who were already learning the hardships of life at such young ages by having to deal with and understand why their parents were gone away (ie: military deployments). Aside from the one parent left at home, we as educators were some of the only constant sources of comfort and care for these children. I took that responsibility very seriously. The bonds I made with those kids have stuck with me, even years later. I like to think they feel the same way, but I know they’ve all probably forgotten me by now. Still, I know I played a crucial role in their lives and I do no regret the shitty pay cheque one bit.

I worked at that daycare for another three years before my then-boyfriend got a job about 6 hours north from where we were living. Aside from the shitty pay and shitty hours, I could have worked at that daycare forever. I loved my co-workers, I loved my boss, I loved those kids. Money doesn’t always buy happiness, y’know?… But yes, it helps.

After moving up north, it was difficult to find a job. I was hired at a daycare attached to a catholic school. Didn’t work there long, though. Our philosophies on discipline and care differed greatly, let’s just put it that way. A few months later, however, I was hired at the cutest little hippie daycare I ever did see!

This place was fantastic! The owner/Director was very much in to a naturopathic lifestyle. Everything there was as organic and natural as possible. Even the food colouring was organic – it was made from vegetables!! (Note to anyone looking to use natural food colouring: be sure to put it in the fridge when you’re not using it. I found this out the hard way once I discovered mouldy food colouring jars in my supply cabinet [insert puke emoji here]).

Not only did this daycare centre align with my own lifestyle and beliefs, but the pay was much higher than what I had been making before. The staff were a close-knit group which was hard to crack, but once I did, those ladies showed me nothing but kindness, appreciation, respect and friendship. I was so happy to have found an amazing work environment that paid well.

The downside was that it was another split shift, this time with the older School Age kids. School Age is my least favourite age. They’re old enough to talk back and be shit heads, and there’s pretty much nothing you can do about it. The pro to this new job though was that when I wasn’t working with the big kids, I was covering breaks for teachers in other programs. I was still able to get my baby and toddler cuddles in, so I took it as a win.

I worked there for a whopping 7 months. I had finally had enough of my horrible, toxic, abusive relationship, so once I broke up with my boyfriend, I had to quit my job and move back home to live with my parents. That was the end of January 2020.

Through serendipitous connections, I was able to land a job at another daycare within two weeks of returning home. This time, I would be working with Infants. FINALLY! My favourite age group! I was so excited! My first day was February 16th 2020. Just shy of a month later, we closed for Covid.

Fortunately, we were only closed for three months. When we opened again, it was limited numbers. If I recall correctly, we were only offering care for parents who were essential workers. I had two babies in my program at the time. Eventually, as the pandemic progressed, so did our safety protocols. Our class size limits went up and soon we had full numbers again. Once we were at capacity, obviously the other staff were brought back also.

For the most part, the staff at this centre welcomed me with open arms. Specifically, my room partner. Let’s call her Maggie. Maggie is 10 years and 4 days younger than me. We’re both Cancers, and I truly have never felt so connected to another person like that, maybe in my whole life. We were so in sync! Whatever I thought, she thought. Whatever task I had in my head to do next, she would be doing it by the time I got around to it. We could read each other’s minds, it felt like. We disciplined the same way, we executed our programming the same way, our philosophies on work and life and just, everything, were all the same! The Infant program ran like clockwork because of our exceptional team work. Never in my entire life had I clicked with a co-worker as easily as I had clicked with Maggie.

We became friends outside of work too. We partied together, we got each other Christmas and birthday gifts and just… ugh. She was more than just my coworker. She was one of my closest friends. Like a sister.

A year and a half in to the pandemic, a lot had changed around the centre. We had gotten a new Director, whom we all adored, but then she went and got knocked up with twins and was left to go on maternity leave several months early. Even before she left for early mat-leave, I had spoken with her privately asking who would be lined up to replace her. She wasn’t sure, but she said she’d pass along my inquiry to the owners. I asked about it several more times, each time with no information to be given.

By this point, it had been 14 years since I started in this field. I had worked all over the province, worked with every age group possible, I had more experience than many staff at the centre. I felt like I was at the top of my game, and even though I was being paid well for a daycare teacher, it still wasn’t enough. Since moving home less than two years ago, I’ve blown myself away with how much I’ve accomplished. However, financial independence still seemed unattainable in my current position. Did I want the Director position? Not really. But did I want the money and the perks that came with it? You bet your ass I did.

This past August, I went away on a family trip to BC – first big trip since the pandemic hit. I was so excited. While I was away, I received a message from one of the admin’s at the centre saying that my Director had to go on maternity leave early, and asked if I was available for a Zoom interview the next day. The original interview time would have been impossible to coordinate based on the time difference between provinces, so I arranged for it to be a bit later. The problem was that I was going to be flying in to Vancouver from Victoria after having visited a friend for a few days. I literally landed at the airport and had to run to find a quiet place I could do this zoom interview with both of the owners of the daycare.

I barely recall what was asked or what was said during that half hour. I was so frazzled from the urgency of getting off the plane and doing this unexpected interview that I was sure I botched the whole thing. Still, I was asked to do another interview later that day. This time I was in the privacy of my aunt’s bedroom and felt a little bit more at ease. I thought it all went well, but I was on vacation. So after I hung up, I let it fade from my mind until I got home two days later. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that I was going to get the job.

The Sunday before I went back to work, I received a phone call from one of the owners. “Unfortunately, we’ve decided to go with someone else,” she said. My heart sank and my stomach tied in knots. Through the golf ball sized lump that was forming in my throat, I managed to blurt out, “Oh, okay. Who are you going with?” There was a pause, and then she replied, “Maggie.” It felt like my entire body was lit on fire. The rage I felt seemed to burn through my skin.

“May I ask,” I replied as calmly as possible. “What was the deciding factor? What did she have that I didn’t?” The owner hmm’d and haah’d on the other end before saying, “Oh well, you were both great. But we felt it was important that our next Director be fluently bilingual. We’ve never had a bilingual Director and we think it would be beneficial to the centre.”

I couldn’t even think straight. I don’t know how the conversation ended but I knew that all I wanted to do was throw my phone and smash the shit out of something. Are you fucking kidding me?! Bilingual!? THAT’S the reason my years of experience mean absolutely fuck all to you people?! Hey! Guess what! JE PARLE FRANÇAIS AUSSI!!! It was never once mentioned that being bilingual was an asset. I have been busting my ass in this field for years! And Maggie gets a promotion over me, after only working in the field for barely two years, simply because she’s bilingual?!

FFuuuccckkk yyyooouuuuu!!!!!

Even writing all this, I want to smash my fucking laptop. It’s bringing back all those feelings of shock and rage. And now I was just expected to go in to work the next day like everything was hunky-dory?! Well, guess what! That’s exactly what I did because I am a god damn professional! I even sent Maggie a congratulations text after I got off the phone with the owner.

I went in to work the next day to find my other room partner there, as well as a supply teacher. You know, to cover for Maggie who was now my fucking boss, apparently?? I don’t even know how I made it through that week. I was literally a shell of the person I normally am. Honestly, I think I was in actual shock. Like true, traumatic shock. I had put all my eggs in to that basket. This was going to be it for me. Finally, after so many years of shitty shifts and shitty pay, I was finally going to get promoted and put all my experience in to making this daycare centre the best it could possible be… But now what?

What do I do now? Keep working in the same position for the same pay as if nothing happened? As if I had no pride or dignity? What person with any ounce of self respect could keep working in that job after that? But what, I’m going to quit and go work for some other shitty daycare for worse pay? No, definitely couldn’t do that. For the moment, I just had to bend over and take it.

As the days went by, however, I was able to process my feelings and direct my anger towards the appropriate target. Was it Maggie’s fault that they chose her instead of me? Absolutely not. All the qualities and skills that Maggie possesses, the things that made her the ideal room partner, were all the reasons she had been chosen for this job. She is smart, and feisty, and adaptable. She’s got a great sense of humour but she takes no shit. She’s organized and professional. She’s polite but stern. She possesses all the qualities that would make her an ideal candidate for this job. As an “older sister”, I’m proud of her. That’s not to say, however, that I don’t still feel like I could have done it, too.

Fortunately, I had been able to contain my true feelings fairly well. Well enough that Maggie knew I was upset, but that I was also a grown ass professional woman who wouldn’t bring her personal feelings in to the workplace in a disruptive manner. One morning, during her first week as Director, I was able to steal a quiet moment with Maggie before the centre opened. I explained that my problem was not with her. I told her I was happy for her, and that I hoped it wouldn’t affect our friendship. We hugged, and cried a little, and I left that interaction feeling lighter than I had that whole week. Still though, I knew I had to find a new job.

I immediately began applying to government positions. I sent my resumé to anyone I know who worked for the government. My friend’s fiancé even helped me update my resumé to be more office directed, as opposed to just all daycare work. How would I pull this off, though? I have almost zero administrative experience. Unless you count the one month I worked at Statefarm Insurance?

Years and years ago, I had gotten hired at Statefarm during my time off from childcare. I heard about the position through a family friend. The insurance agent seemed to be in a real pinch and was looking for literally anyone to fill the receptionist position. Turns out the former receptionist had been involved with the insurance salesman in the office. She was married, however, and unsurprisingly her husband didn’t take too kindly to this relationship. There may or may not have been a big brawl at the office, after which the receptionist quit and moved home to the UK.

I was hired to answer phones and write up insurance quotes. “No experience necessary,” the agent said. Turns out, YES experience necessary! I had absolutely no idea what I was doing! I was there just under a month before he realized he didn’t have time to babysit me and walk me through every step of my job. Nor did he have anyone who could train me. And so ended my short career in office work.

Several weeks passed as I waited to hear back from the government positions I had applied to. In the meantime, it was clear that the owners of the daycare knew that they were on rocky ground in terms of me staying. They knew how valuable I was for the Infant program, and the centre in general, so they offered me some bullshit, made-up position where I would basically be a stand-in for some administrative positions. When other admin staff were unable to be there or do something for whatever reason, then I would step in and cover for them. Only on those occasions would I get a raise. Otherwise I would still be working my normal position for my normal rate of pay.

Of course, I graciously accepted this non-existent position. How could I turn down the potential to make more money? I figured, until I hear back from one of these other jobs, I’ll let the owners think things are fine. It was about a month after that, however, that an opportunity was presented to me that I simply couldn’t refuse.

All my life, my mother and my aunt have worked in the field of subsidized housing. So when a position became available at my aunt’s office, she sent me the link. She made it clear that that was the extent of her involvement in this process. She knew I was competent enough to get the job on my own, and didn’t want to risk anyone thinking there was any nepotism involved with me potentially getting hired. I applied, and within a few days, I heard back that I had been selected for an interview. I did the interview via Zoom while sitting in my car in the parking lot across the street from the daycare. It was a Thursday, and I was officially offered the position the following Monday.

I couldn’t believe it. I was both ecstatic and terrified at the same time. There had been several times throughout the decade+ that I had worked in childcare when I had considered leaving the field. The bullshit I experienced at this most recent centre was certainly not exclusive to this one daycare. As you’ve read, there was bullshit with every centre I worked at – bad pay, shitty co-workers, bad bosses… But regardless, I always chose to stay.

It takes a very special person to work with children. I am definitely that kind of person. I love almost everything there is to do with working in daycare. I love being creative and planning all sorts of fun crafts and activities to do with the kids. I love playing and being silly with them, I love being a source of comfort for them when needed. The bonds I had made with these dozens and dozens of children over the years had always meant so much to me. Not only that, I loved that I knew I was good at it.

If you’ve read this much of the blog you’ll know, I’ve always had serious insecurity and self esteem issues. But never, not once, did I ever doubt my talent and skill for this job. The kids loved me, my programming was always top notch, I often mentored other educators who were new to the field, or worked collaboratively with other experienced educators to create amazing activities for these tiny humans. This job was my passion, my life. The bullshit that came with it always sucked, but the job itself… I just loved it.

But now I was presented with this new opportunity. This giant fork in the road of my life. Which path do I take? Do I stay with what I know and love, but continue to be taken advantage of and unappreciated? Or do I take the risk of trying something new? What if I suck at this new job? What if I hate working in an office? All these “what if’s” sailed through my mind, but all I kept telling myself was, “you’re better than this place.” And I am. I deserve to be appreciated, to have my skills and experience recognized and valued. I deserve to be praised for my efforts, not taken advantage of because I was professional and didn’t make a stink about things. Despite the all consuming desire to stick with what I know, the decision was really a no-brainer. It was time to go.

I walked in to Maggie’s office on a Tuesday morning and told her that I had accepted a position outside the field of childcare. She did not seem surprised in the least. I had kept it from her as long as I could, but when I had to do the Zoom interview, I ended up having to come clean because I needed to be sure someone could cover me on the floor if the interview ran long. She congratulated me and I went to the bathroom and cried.

I gave her two and a half week’s notice. I wanted as much time as I could have to train the new staff who would be replacing me in the program, as well as more time to cherish with those babies. I’m literally writing this through tears. I truly can’t express it enough how much I really did love them and how much I loved working in that program. This was one of the hardest decisions I had ever made, but at that point, there was no turning back.

What made it easier, however, was seeing the owners scramble to save their asses as they offered me all sorts of things in order to stay. They offered me the Director position at a different location in the west end of the city. As tempting as that was, where was that offer when I had applied for the promotion in the first place?? If I’m so great and wonderful and talented, and that other location is in such dire need of an overhaul, why was that position not offered to me from the start? They asked if there was anything they could do to keep me, and even offered me Maggie’s position when she threatened to quit too. (That’s another thing – they treated Maggie like shit. Expecting so much from her with little to no training in the position and literally no help in her attempts to fix all the problems the centre was having).

Thanks but no thanks, ladies. Sucks to suck. If I had been offered these things right away, I would have gladly accepted and would have likely worked in child care for the rest of my life. Too little, too late, though. This was just another sign from the Universe that it was time for me to move on.

Those two weeks flew by in a flash. All of a sudden it was my last day and all my amazing co-workers were making me cry in the cubby room. They arranged this beautiful basket for me full of positive affirmations for days I may second guess myself, an I.O.U for a girls night since we hadn’t been able to arrange one before I left, and even some pre-rolls from the nearby pot shop. These bishes know me too well! If any of you are reading this, know that I miss you all, and I love you. And I can’t wait for our girls night out!

My last day was a Friday. I left early as I had had plans to attend my cousin’s bachelorette party out in wine country. I knew I had an emotional five hour drive ahead of me, so I gathered all my belongings, hugged my co-workers/amazing friends, loaded up my car, and headed out. I put on my Pandemic Tunes playlist on Spotify and psychic shuffle really came through. Songs came on that made me cry, made me yell, made me groove, and made me think. I’ve always loved a road trip, but it was again, a way for the Universe to show me that I did, in fact, make the right decision. And one thing I’ve learned in recent years is that more often than not, the right decisions are usually the hardest to make.

I’ve started my new job now. It’s like I’m on an entirely new planet. Different doesn’t even begin to describe this job compared to childcare. But the people are so generous, helpful and kind. The job itself will become easier as I get used to it, and again, the money and benefits are second to none. I’ve worked so hard on myself and I’ve come so far. Now this new job is the gateway to the life I’ve always wanted. And who knows? Maybe a home daycare is in my future. You know, the home that I’ll buy with all the money I’m making at this new job 😉

Anyways, I guess the point of all this is A) I needed to process all these changes and this is my outlet to do that, but B ) it’s also a reminder to anyone else in a similar situation, whether it be personal, professional, whatever. All the best things in life are just on the other side of fear. You can’t let the fear of the unknown deter you from pursuing the life you want and know that you deserve. No one else on this planet can make things happen for you. It’s all on you, girl. So take the leap and go for it. You’ll be surprised when you land on your feet and have a whole new life ahead of you.

For more adventures and mis-adventures in dating, Stay tuned Wednesdays at 8pm EST