Boycott Mem Fox
I’m sorry Mem Fox, but you’re going to have to find the green sheep all by yourself from now on.
I feel very, very sad when I think of those mums who, like myself, reluctantly left their baby - the Squid was six months - at childcare while they went out to earn a quid, crying as they drove to the train station, or the bus stop, or to work.
I feel sad when I think about the single mums I know - can we wish children undone? - who struggled to make a good life for their child and themselves, and were obliged to use childcare.
I feel sad when I remember hearing our little one was sick, away from her mum and her dad, and still had to juggle the expectations of work with the longing to be there immediately.
I feel sad when I think how comments like calling childcare for small children “child abuse” makes already guilt-ridden mothers wither inside a little more.
We no longer have extended familes. We no longer have communities who care for each other’s children. We can no longer pay the bills while making cakes for the fete.
We tried six years to have a child and she came along during the drought. No income for my partner who did what work he could when he could. My friend has never had assistance from her child’s father. Another wouldn’t take it if he offered.
Children are born into all sorts of families.
My child attends childcare. I left her there this morning with her hand in a carer’s hand, excitedly telling her about her weekend. Her best friend goes to the same childcare centre. Each day, she tells us who has “got up to mischief” and what she said to her mates.
We love our child and the funny thing is that I think most of the parents there also love their children.
Mem Fox, your books are great, but you will no longer find them at our house.
