From: PARENTING Magazine

OF BIG WHEELS AND BUGS: THE LONG, HECTIC DAY OF A DAYCARE PROVIDER

By Louise Tutelian

It is 7:30 a.m. and Lori Carroscio is already two hours into her daily routine, transforming her modest stucco house in the New York City suburb of New Rochelle into The Little Kingdom family daycare home. By now, she has sorted toys, photocopied alphabet worksheets, and clipped drawings to the crafts clothesline. She is ready for the arrival of the boys and girls, the royalty of The Little Kingdom.

Three-year-old Brian and two-year-old Timmy are the first to arrive. The rambunctious duo will have breakfast here. They are followed soon after by four-year-old Jonathan, who tears into the basement playroom shouting, “Look! I’m chewing gum! Look at my plane poster!” Carroscio sits cross-legged on the floor, takes Jonathan into her lap ad examines every detail of his poster. Then she hangs it on the wall.

Next comes Andrew. Today is his birthday—he’s three—and his mothers hands over a huge bunny cake with green icing, Carroscio places a cardboard crown on Andrew’s head, dubbing him King of the Kingdom. She leads him over to the crafts table; his mother promises to return at lunchtime for a slice of cake.

Thirty-nine year old Carroscio is teacher, nurse, disciplinarian, cook and playmate for as many as ten preschoolers (and two older kids who arrive after school) each day. With seven years’ experience teaching nursery school, Carroscio knows exactly what she’s doing, shifting smoothly from a quarrel over a toy tiger to the morning crafts project: making a weather vane with construction paper and glue. She loves her work, but she is the first to admit that, “this is a long day, usually 12 to 14 hours. And some parents don’t realize what goes into it.”

A glance at Carroscio’s policies shows she means business. She asks parents to sign a contract guaranteeing that they will pay for a certain number of days per week and agreeing to her rules on vacation time, sick days, and late pickups.  Carroscio estimates that a hardworking family childcare provider can gross between $25,000 and $40,000 a year depending on how many children she cares for. But being successful, she insists, requires the support of the entire family. Carroscio’s husband, Dennis, a carpet salesman, turned the basement into a nursery school setting for her. Their children, Michelle, 19 and Dennis, Jr., 15, had to get used to sharing their home—and their mother—with lots of little ones.

Carroscio considers The Little Kingdom akin to a preschool. She invites a music teacher in to work with the children one day a week and builds many of her activities around the seasons and holidays. There is a mid-morning snack, followed by outside play in Carroscio’s fenced-in backyard. Lunch comes next, and then a quiet storytime. Naptime, from 1:00 until about 3:00, is the only opportunity that Carroscio has during the day to squeeze in a couple of personal phone calls or male a quick trip to the market while Michelle or Dennis watches the kids. When the preschoolers wake up, it’s snacktime again.

By 4:30. Carroscio’s day is beginning to wind down. Several of her toddlers have already been picked up. Brian and Adam are running around the backyard, collecting bugs. Jonathan is careening toward the driveway gate in a Big Wheel, and Carroscio warns him to slow down. By this time of day, her voice is little more than a squeak. When Jonathan’s mother arrives at 4:15, Carroscio tells her that he has been overactive for the past two days. His mother, an elementary school teacher, nods and says she’s noticed it too.

The children are gone by 5:30. Carroscio spends another hour and a half rearranging the toys, vacuuming and scrubbing the bathroom, crafts table and nap cots. If there is time after dinner, she’ll make meatballs for a lunch later in the week.  She’s in bed by 11:00 and falls asleep in an instant.