Jeffy’s Angels Revisited       

Nearly a year ago I wrote an article about the three wonderful baby girls who hang out in our family child care program while their parents work: redheaded Marygrace, blonde Siddha, and brunette Annie. I call them Jeffy’s Angels.

The Angels are growing up.

Marygrace, the oldest, is still very social and has been talking for a long time. More and more of her constant chatter is even understandable as English. Her favorite word is “baby”—she likes them in both the doll and human variety, but real babies fascinate her. She is very concerned about their wellbeing and thinks they should have a blanket and bottle at all times. She likes to play with the other Angels, but she also likes to play parallel to the older children. She will sit and read books or build with blocks alongside the three-year-olds for large hunks of time. If you watch close you can actually see her learning from them.

Siddha is the middle Angel. For the last few months she has spent a lot of time putting stuff into other stuff. She fills a purse with cars and hauls them through the house, she fills a clear plastic container with wooden blocks and shakes it until they all fly out, and she puts herself in the toy box and smiles at her cleverness. She likes baby dolls more than real babies. She likes to wrap them up in blankets and tote them from here to there. She thinks a lot; usually with a glimmer in her bright blue eyes and her tongue hanging out of her mouth. She babbles a lot, but has not said any words yet. We’re all eagerly waiting to hear what is on her mind.

Annie is the youngest Angel. She walked at an earlier age than the other Angels and currently has more teeth then them. She is laid back, easygoing, and tough—it probably comes in part from having two big sisters. She likes to be tossed in the air and flipped upside down, something the other girls also enjoy. She is also a great mimic. She will hold a block to her ear, tilt her head, and say “hello” with the same lilt in her voice as her mommy. She also watches the other kids closely and mimics their actions and play.

They are all developing unique personalities, but they have lots in common. They like to follow my wife, Tasha, around the house as she goes about her day. They look like ducklings toddling after her as she moves from one room to the next. They look even more like ducklings when they stand beside her with the mouths open and their heads up as she prepares lunch—waiting for her to sneak them a taste of something. With me they are all more puppy than duckling. We roll around on the floor, flip and frolic, play fetch, and romp. Then, when we are tuckered out, we flop down on the floor in a pile and rest.

I have gotten to know these little girls very well in their short lives; our relationships are deep and strong. They go about their day playing and exploring knowing that I am nearby with a hug when they bump their head, get frustrated, or just need to cuddle a bit.

When I sit down in a child-sized chair at our child-sized table to look at the newspaper, the Angels all toddle over and pull magazines or catalogs off a nearby shelf and join me at the table. I read quietly to myself as they chatter, gaze at pictures, and practice turning pages. When I finish reading, I loosely roll my paper and gently tap the nearest Angel on the head a few times. She smiles and the other two stretch their heads in my direction for their turn. I dutifully tap their heads with the paper as they smile with appreciation. Then I do it again and again and again until we all get bored with the game.

When the Angels arrive in the morning they each greet me in a different way. Marygrace rushes in, tosses me a happy “HI!” and begins to play, checking in with a hug after she has scoped things out a bit. Siddha comes in smiling but a bit more low-key; she is a quieter child. After settling in she will seek me out and we will sit together for a while--her check on my check as I whisper in her ear. Annie usually comes in all smiles, but she can be a grouch in the morning. If I am standing she usually comes to me with arms out and fingers opening and closing. If I am sitting, she walks over and stops a foot or so from me. Then she turns around and backs into my lap, flopping down with a content smile.

The rituals that have grown with the Angels in our program are more than fodder for cute anecdotes. They are the physical manifestation of the deep and trusting emotional environment we work hard to create in our program. It takes time and commitment to grow the relationships that result in such an emotional environment. As early care and education professionals, our job is not just about bottles, diapers, and wiping noses. Among other things, our job is about keeping children safe and secure so they learn to trust; our job is about consistently responding to children’s physical and emotional needs so they learn predictability and dependability; our job is about feeding their curiosity and desire to learn so they acquire needed knowledge and skills; our job is about making an emotional investment in the children we care for so they know they are valuable and important.

In the end, all the little things we do, all our daily interactions, become the fabric of our program’s emotional environment.  Programs that work hard at meeting the individual needs of the children in care weave a strong fabric. Programs that do not place as much emphasis on those individual needs end up with a weaker fabric, a weaker emotional environment.

What kind of emotional environment are you creating for your Angels?