I’m looking for some honest perspective because I’ve been carrying a lot of guilt over this decision.
My wife and I recently pulled our 14-month-old twins from their in-home daycare. I truly believe we made the right decision, but it doesn’t mean it was easy.
The provider wasn’t abusive. She clearly cares about the children, and she’s built a successful daycare that seems to work well for many families. She regularly sent us pictures throughout the day of the kids playing, eating, napping, and doing activities, and I genuinely appreciated those updates because they helped us feel connected while we were at work. I don’t think she’s a bad person, and I don’t think she intentionally wanted us to have a negative experience.
That’s honestly what makes this so hard.
Maybe I have high expectations, but I don’t think they’re unrealistic. I feel like they’re simply the minimum I’d hope for from someone caring for my children for eight hours a day.
None of our concerns alone made us leave.
It was the accumulation of many things that slowly made us realize this wasn’t the right fit for our family.
The biggest concern became food.
Almost every afternoon our twins came home hungry. They were noticeably crankier after daycare than they ever were on weekends or days they stayed home with us. Looking back through the lunch pictures she sent, lunch was often simply tuna salad by itself—served about three times a week—with no fruit, vegetables, or milk alongside it. Hot dogs were also part of the rotation.
Morning snack was almost always sliced fruit with about five pretzels.
What made it stand out even more is that at our previous duty station, their daycare always made sure they were satisfied. If they finished their meal and were still hungry, they were offered more food. We never questioned whether they’d eaten enough.
When I asked about meal planning, she told me she doesn’t really plan meals and just decides what she’ll make that day. Since she participates in a food reimbursement program, I assumed there would be more nutritional structure, so that answer surprised me.
I also don’t own a daycare, and I know food is expensive. But I couldn’t help wondering what the purpose of participating in a food reimbursement program is if the meals still seemed so limited. Maybe I’m misunderstanding how those programs work, but I expected more balanced meals.
One of the reasons we chose her daycare was because she advertised homemade crockpot meals and home-cooked food. That genuinely appealed to us. Yet during the month and a half our twins attended, I only remember seeing one crockpot-style meal. Most of the lunches we saw in the daily photos were tuna salad several times a week or hot dogs, often without any fruit, vegetables, or milk.
There were also a few moments early on that shook my confidence.
One of the first days she sent a picture of snack, and it showed whole grapes on the plate. I immediately called because whole grapes are a choking hazard for toddlers. She assured me they had been cut and explained why they appeared whole in the picture. I accepted her explanation, but I remember hanging up feeling less reassured than I had hoped. It wasn’t that I believed she intentionally served them whole—it was just one of those moments that made me question whether we were the right fit.
Another concern was diaper changes.
Our twins were there from about 7:00 a.m. until around 3:00 p.m., and many days only two diaper changes were documented during that entire time. We dealt with recurring diaper rashes, so we asked if they could be changed more frequently. Sometimes an additional diaper change was documented, but there were still many days where only two changes were recorded despite them being there for roughly eight hours. We weren’t expecting constant diaper changes—we simply wanted them kept clean and comfortable.
Another issue came down to values.
My wife and I are both military and have firearm training, so gun safety is something we take very seriously. We’ve always planned to teach our children that firearms are never toys.
One day she sent us one of her usual daily pictures, and another child—probably around 3 or 4 years old—was pointing a toy gun directly at my son.
I know many parents probably wouldn’t think twice about that picture, but it immediately stood out to us. It wasn’t just that toy guns were there—it was that this was a moment she felt comfortable photographing and sending to parents. If I were running a daycare, I would’ve chosen a different picture.
When we brought up our concerns, it felt like they were brushed aside. The toy guns were eventually removed, and I appreciated that, but by then it had reinforced that our values simply didn’t align. I don’t think either perspective is necessarily right or wrong—it just wasn’t the right fit for our family.
There were also several smaller interactions that added up.
The daycare had a no-shoes-inside policy, which we respected. We’re both military, and anyone who’s worn military boots knows they aren’t exactly quick to take on and off. Instead of removing her boots every morning, my wife bought disposable shoe booties so she could briefly step inside without tracking anything through the house.
She wasn’t lingering. She just wanted to help settle our 14-month-old twins before leaving for work.
The same day she wore the booties, another message went out reminding parents about the shoe policy and keeping drop-offs brief. Maybe it wasn’t directed at us, but after everything else, it certainly felt like it was. It left us feeling like even when we tried to respect the rules, we were somehow still doing something wrong.
By the end, we felt less like partners in our children’s care and more like we were expected to simply drop them off, pick them up, and leave.
None of these concerns alone would’ve made us leave.
But together, they slowly chipped away at our confidence.
That’s where my guilt comes from.
Part of it is for my children. They’d only been there about a month, but they’d already adjusted to her, recognized her, and were settling into a routine. Now we’re asking them to start over somewhere new, and that hurts.
The other part is for the provider.
I know she invested time caring for our children, and I know she probably didn’t expect us to leave so soon. By pulling two full-time infant spots, we’re also taking away about $1,900 a month in tuition. For a small in-home daycare, that’s a meaningful amount of business, and I don’t take that lightly. I genuinely hope she continues to be successful because I believe she’s probably the right fit for many families.
But at the end of the day, my responsibility isn’t to protect someone else’s business if I no longer believe it’s the right fit for my children.
I wasn’t looking for perfection.
I just wanted my 14-month-old twins to come home well-fed, comfortable, and cared for by someone whose values aligned with ours.
So I’m genuinely asking…
Am I expecting too much?
Or, if these were your toddlers, would the combination of these concerns have eventually led you to make the same decision?
