I used to call them “Trophy Kids” when I worked in daycare. Children with parents who had the means to be home with them, at least part-time, who instead were sent to daycare at SIX WEEKS OLD and who’d spend TWELVE hours there daily. I cannot imagine leaving my six week old for 12 hours a day. I had a hard enough time leaving babies or toddlers who weren’t even mine at the end of my shifts.

There were parents who managed careers with parenting… and balanced it very well. But it was obviously difficult for them. Then there were the others. The ones whose kids were there on every open holiday, even when they had the day off themselves. And they’d still be there for seven to eight hours… better than the 12, but c’mon.

We had one baby who began at six weeks. His father would drop him off and pick him up. He’d be in the parking lot by 6:15 am (we opened at 6:30 am) and he was so frequently very late in picking his son up that my center began charging an exorbitant late fee. It helped, some. Instead of picking him up 20–30 minutes late, he was more like 10–20 minutes late.

It broke my heart to see these kids being born simply because that was what was “next” on some upper class success checklist. It also hurt to see parents who’d have given anything to be able to NOT work have to leave their children while other parents were seemingly unaffected to leave their kids with us for longer than my shift.