It was a mistake. So many red flags, but I was desperate. I couldn't quit my job. I couldn't take more leave. She had a son who was the same age of Isabella. One would think this would be a good thing. It wasn't. Emely obviously didn't pay any attention to the two toddlers. Items would be broken when I returned home. My favorite vase from our wedding, Isabella's toddler drum set, and then one day I came home to discover that her son bit my daughter.
I should have fired her. I should have told her that that was the final straw and to not come back. But I was desperate, and she knew it. She didn't charge much, and money was tight. It was a horrible situation and I felt so helpless. I wanted only the best for my daughter and I couldn't give it to her.
That fall, Emely moved to Florida and I was grateful because in the fall Isabella would be able to attend nursery school, and there was a childcare provider who lived across the street from the preschool who could pick her up from the nursery school and give her lunch and let her play for a bit with the other children until I was able to pick her up. It all worked out. Finally.
Isabella is 9-years old now. Why am I bringing this up now? So many years later? Because today we were sitting by the hotel pool (hockey tournament) and I was watching Isabella in the corner of my eye while talking to another parent. She was playing a ball game with four older children. Every time I looked, she did not have the ball, but she was trying to get it. She didn't look upset, so I let it got and kept talking. Once that parent left, I looked over and she still didn't have the ball. The older kids kept throwing it over her head. I was getting annoyed, but I didn't see Isabella giving me any cues that she was getting upset. I asked Josh what he thought. He felt it was fine. She wasn't crying, she wasn't asking for help, and she was smiling. But I had a bad feeling in my gut.
I told Isabella we were leaving in five minutes. She looked at me, asked for six minutes instead. I said okay, and let it go. Obviously that meant she was having fun, right?
They kept throwing that fuckin' ball over her head. I was getting frustrated. But Isabella didn't look at me for help. I let it go.
When the six minutes were over, I told her it was time to go and walked over with a towel. Isabella walked out of the pool and wouldn't look at me. I asked her if everything was okay. She said yes. I asked her if the kids were being mean to her. She shrugged. I wanted to set fire to the world.
Instead, I took a deep breath and asked her if she wanted to me to talk to them. She said 'no,' that it would embarrass her. We walked past the kids at the pool and I told her that some kids can be real jerks.
I wanted to confront those assholes. I wanted to grab that ball and throw it over the fence. But I restrained myself. And it reminded me of when Isabella was two-years old and was bitten in the face from a neglected toddler because his mother spent her days watching novelas on my television screen and taking naps.
But this time it wasn't financial hardships that stopped me from being a Mama Bear, but my own daughter. Why didn't she seek me out? I immediately wondered if it was because she felt I wouldn't help her...again I was trapped in the past with Emely and her cannibal child.
She later told me that she almost caught the ball once and one of the girls swatted her hand away. I immediately wished that that brat would be bitten by a dog. I accidentally said it out loud, and Isabella smiled. At least I got a smile out of her.
I should have listened to my instincts. I know Isabella is fine. I know that. But I am pissed off at myself for not saving her...again.
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