Daycare: A Personal Narrative Of My Life

I remember being taken away from my mother at age seven. My brother was only a year old when we were separated. We were ripped away from her arms and placed in foster care. I can recall that day clear as a crystal. My throat felt constricted as I yelled out for my mother, my eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, my knees bruised because I refused to be taken away. From then out my life tumbled down. I could no longer protect my brother, I could not be there to wipe my mother’s tears away. I was alone and frightened. Now that I look back at my experiences in foster care it made me stronger. As of today I am more grounded, and able to go through life with a new lense. I got to experience foster care and am able to empathize with those who have gone through it as well.

And then she turned to me. I felt special that she had saved me for last. I smiled at her, and she did the same to me. We had grown inseparable over the past few years especially, but now it was time to say goodbye. I knew at that point that nothing at all would change, that we would still be sisters, still be best friends, still be inseparable. Who cares if we’re 5 ½ hours away? This was us.

There was an eerie silence as she walked down the corridor. Click clack click clack.. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the walls. She glanced out the window, the clouds were rolling in a deep black front. The trees were contorting from the wind, flashes of lightning illuminate her face. Those soft, caring eyes, and gorgeous brown hair. The epitome of perfection. She quickly pulls herself away from the window, she can't be distracted. Not now. Patient 13 had escaped and she was the only staff in. tick.. tick.. tick.. tick.. Time was running out, she had to find the patient before the storm hit. She had checked every floor except for this one; floor #2. Something seemed different about this floor to her. There was something off. There was no humming of equipment like there would normally be. Just silence. Rooms 210-224 were empty and untouched. All the sheets

Little by little, children finish their meals and get ready for naptime. The children dump the remainder of their milk in the same sink where they wash their hands. Slowly children go lie down on their own. One of the TSS’s turns off the lights on that side of the room. Kayla puts on a rest time cd and goes to start cleaning up the kitchen. I ask what kind of music is playing but Kayla is not sure. Alyssa gets blankets for any children who need them. Kayla tells her the children only get their blanket if they are settled down. Seeing the children start to fall asleep I get ready to leave. Saying goodbye to Kayla and Alyssa, thanking them for their time.

In August of 2008, I went to Eureka Community Nursery School. The very first day of school for me, now it would be as easy as counting to three.

I was fifteen years old when my mother invited me to help out with the local foster home. When I arrived at the foster home I began to cry in response to the young children that I saw. It was difficult for me to understand the children's emotions initially but throughout the day I learned the reason behind their joy. Most of the foster children were grateful for the little deeds that the volunteers performed for them because we showed that we cared about them. In all honesty many people take for granted the advantages they have for succeeding in life. The foster children that I've seen that day were limited because they did not have the physical and the emotional support of their families. I did not realized how blessed I was to have a loving

I’m in the prison line minding my own business as a few girls punch me. I did nothing to them, but that day i was getting out of prison and the girls get jealous if the others get out. The police are sending me to a foster home. My seventh one and i’m hoping it’s the last. My head is throbbing and there is a cut on the upper part of my lip. Before I leave I ask where is my brother you said you promise would never split us apart. The social worker finds my brother and he is taken out of the home he is in, now he is with me I feel safe.

A situation where I was extrinsically motivated was when I had to babysit my little siblings for a night. I was extrinsically motivated because I was going to get paid. Usually I do not get paid to babysit, so I was excited and I felt that I had to try my best. I babysit almost every weekend and this particular weekend my parents told me that I deserve to be rewarded for all the times that I babysat. They said, they were going to pay me fifty dollars when they get home, and they were going make sure I did the job I was supposed to do.

Burned bacon and eggs as thin as water, “worst breakfast mom makes better” Michael cried Mrs. Malison the foster “Mom” didn’t care though she slapped Michael and said “eat your food or you’ll sleep in the shed today.” Michael thought anything is better than his actual foster bedroom, its black, greasy walls, and rickety bed it was horrible. When Michael woke up from his nightmare of the first day at the foster home, when rubbing the sleep out of his eyes Michael walked down stairs to see Mrs. Malison shooting her AK- 47 at the bird nest and Mr. Malison laying on the coach drinking Bud Light and reading the newspaper from two weeks ago. Michael was now fourteen years old and was still being treated as a three year old, he wished he could leave this place for ever. When Michael was three years old his mom and Dad divorced and his Mom sent him to this foster home. The only thing he remembered that day was when his mom arrived at the foster home she

I sat at the window staring at the wave of traffic waiting for my mum to come and pick me up. All the cars looked like a massive rainbow serpent moving along the road and I was trying to look for my mums purple car. Every morning when I was four I woke up and had to go to my baby sitter Ann’s house so I was thrilled, she had enough play dough that you could make a house and all the toys you could every think of but I loved it because I had friends there and we would play for hours on end.

I felt my face getting red hot as I raced down the hospital hallway. I bit my lip, slamming into the wall. I pushed myself back and ran into an open elevator. I tried to study the floor numbers but my vision was blurry from the tears building up in my eyes.

I'm currently doing my internship at Morning Site Adult Day Care Center. I choose to do my internship at this place because in the future I would like to work with the senior community. One of the things that is stressing me already in my place is the employees environment because most of them are not satisfied about their salaries, some of them are not happy with their duties. Also there is a conflict about the center policies between the the social workers and the director. Even more, the owners are always talking and worried about the fundings to keep running the business. As Rosa mention there is not enough help to support our seniors and that is something that stressess me out. How I will be handling it the situation is by not been part

Picking up my daughter from daycare on the way home is a part of my daily routine; today, however, was different. I was tasked with buying a bottle of milk for my daughter before arriving to take custody of her. You see, like a chain smoker who needs his cigarette after a long flight, my daughter needs her bottle of milk after an exhausting day at the nursery. With my mind preoccupied with the sudden and unexpected loss of my phone and the hollow feeling this leaves me with, I walked out of the office and into an atypical crisp, fresh air of a December winter. As I walked past the uncharacteristically quiet downtown neighbourhood, the all-important task of picking up milk escaped my mind. As the good fortune of our train passengers would have

I bolted to the couch and jumped onto the arm of it, “What are we going to do?” I asked curiously.

The moment I first saw my newly born nephew was magical. I walked into the hospital room and there he was, in the arms of his aunt. He was perfect, a little miracle, an angel. My heart squeezed when I first saw him and I immediately fell in love. Then, I held him. He was so alert and perfect; I couldn’t stop looking at him. His tiny, perfect hands and feet and his adorable facial expressions: he was so beautiful! And I cried. The feeling I experienced was so powerful that it is hard for me to imagine that it will be even stronger when I have my own children. I couldn’t believe he was my little nephew and he was finally here! I had been anxiously awaiting his birth from the day I found out I was going to become an auntie. Even after seeing him and holding him, it took a while for the idea to sink in that he was real and that I was finally an aunt! I didn’t want to ever put him down; I could’ve held him and watched him forever as he slept so peacefully and beautifully, my little angel.