The Great Soviet State Will Forge You Into A Mold Just Like Your Brothers

So what could have been a perfect day care scenario has not turned out so well.

When we moved into SF I found a small daycare facility run by a Russian women in the ground level apartment of her house with two assistants.  I went there for a few days and spent an hour with Moishe playing in the center.  She started complaining the first week.

"He doesn’t eat much."  Yeah, we know, why do you think we have him under the care of a doctor with a long list of things you can’t feed him for allergy reasons?

"He doesn’t nap for more than an hour.  He’s quiet when the other kids are awake and when they go to sleep he starts talking and playing."  That’s right, he takes after his parents.  He’s got shy tendencies and has the capacity to entertain himself.  There’s nothing wrong with that.  He doesn’t need to be "fixed".

"He seems to only bond with one adult here."  Yes, that’s right, perhaps it was because he had a nanny for his first 18 months, but this is how he is.  This is how he was at the last daycare center. Over time he becomes close to adults in a serial manner.  That’s just his way.

Seeking an answer to why he was different than all other kids in her daycare, she asked "Was he premature?"  Um, no.  Sarah and I both had to take a five minute timeout after that last one.

Clearly this woman is not prepared to care for any child that behaves differently than the others.  We are so getting him into some other facility.