Daycare was supposed to be a place of joy for our little girl. But soon came the tantrums, the tears, and the dread that filled her every time we mentioned “daycare.” When we uncovered the terrifying truth behind those cheerful doors, our hearts broke.
The clock flashed 6:30 a.m. I sighed, bracing myself for another morning of tears. Next to me, my husband Dave stirred, his face mirroring the worry that had consumed us these past weeks.
“Maybe today will be better,” he whispered, though his voice lacked conviction.
I wanted to believe him, but the image of our daughter Lizzie’s tear-streaked face was still painfully fresh in my mind.
It hadn’t always been this way. When we first enrolled Lizzie in Happy Smiles Daycare, she was thrilled. Our bubbly four-year-old couldn’t stop talking about the colorful rooms, the kind teachers, and the new friends she was excited to make.
For the first two weeks, drop-offs were effortless. Lizzie practically skipped into daycare, her excitement contagious. But that joy vanished as quickly as it came.
The reluctance started with small protests, then escalated into full-blown meltdowns. One morning, as I helped her into her favorite purple jacket, Lizzie burst into tears, pleading, “No daycare, Mommy! Please, don’t send me there.”
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