By Terra Avilla
This article has been 12 years in the making.
It is made up of tears, joy, kindness, love, family and so many memories. I have written about Michelle before, but this one feels different. This week, I am writing about what it has meant to trust her with my girls and how much she has meant to our family.
As a mom, especially a new mom, there is nothing scarier than dropping your baby off at someone else’s house and leaving. Especially in this world. Especially with the kind of work I do. You are trusting someone with the most important thing in your life, and that is not something you take lightly. I think all mommas can relate to that.
Twelve years ago, Frankie and I met Michelle when I was eight months pregnant with Peach. I was stressed trying to find newborn childcare, especially childcare that could handle my ever-changing schedule. I needed someone who would be okay with a 5:30 a.m. drop-off and the reality that I might not know what time I would be done at work.
Frankie and I are not from here. We had friends, but actual support is harder to find. A real village is hard to find.
We found that with Michelle and her family.
For the past 12 years, I have consistently had at least one of my daughters in Michelle’s care. By the time Peach started kindergarten, Pearl was there. By the time Pearl was headed to pre-K, Junie joined the crew. Auntie Chelle has helped raise my babies.
She was my steady go-to when I was learning how to be a mom without family nearby. “She is not pooping, what do I do?” “She is pooping TOO much, what do I do?” “Is this a fever, or is she teething?” Michelle answered the calls, calmed my panic, and helped me through so many of those early-mom moments that feel HUGE and scary when you are living them.
And not mention… Michelle basically potty trained all three of my girls. I will forever be thankful for that.
But she did not just watch my kids. She cuddled my babies. She rocked them to sleep through every age and stage of their lives. She checked on them even when they were not in her care. She asked about them. She showed up to more dance shows and plays than I can count. She remembered what was happening in their lives, gave birthday and Christmas gifts. She loved them in a way that went far beyond a job.
For 12 years, I received nearly daily pictures of my girls. Little snapshots that reminded me they were not just being watched while Frankie and I worked… they were living a whole, full, busy life. “Oh, Auntie Chelle has them on the waterslide.” “Look, they are at Blue Star Moms with her.” “Now they are at the library.”
They made crafts. So many crafts. Michelle took the time to teach them how to write their names when they were 3 and 4 years old, work on the alphabet, learn little songs, colors, and all the things that matter in those early years. She gave them time and patience and attention—things that cannot be measured.
And then there is the food.
My girls love Auntie Chelle’s spaghetti. They would never want to hurt my feelings, but I am pretty sure they love it more than mine. And somehow, no matter how hard I try, I still cannot get Pearl to like my grilled cheese as much as she likes Chelle’s. I have accepted that this may just be one of those things I will never win.
But really, I think food just tastes different when it is made with the kind of love Michelle has always given my girls.
Sure, we paid Michelle for childcare, but not nearly enough to cover everything she gave our family. Beyond the food, toys, birthday gifts, back-to-school shopping, movie trips, and the times she helped us pick them up when Frankie and I were in a bind, there was love. Real love. The kind you cannot hire. The kind that becomes part of your children’s lives forever.
My girls love Auntie Chelle. Peach is almost 12 years old, and she still wants to go see Auntie Chelle every chance she gets. Michelle is one of the only places my girls have spent the night where I did not lose one lick of sleep. Not because I do not worry as a mom… because I always worry… but because I knew they were safe, cared for, fed, loved and treated like family.
And it was never just Michelle.
They gained Uncle Matt. They gained Katrina, who was only 9 when Michelle started watching Peach and has grown into such a great big sister and role model for my girls. They gained Derrick and Isaac (two big brothers who love them, tease them, play with them, and treat them exactly how big brothers should).
My girls are lucky. Frankie and I are lucky.
For 12 years, drop-offs and pickups at Michelle’s house have been part of our everyday life. It has been part of our routine, part of how we got through busy workdays, long schedules, unexpected changes, and life in general. Michelle has seen Frankie and me grow—not only as parents, but as husband and wife. She has helped us navigate some hard seasons too.
Now Junie is starting pre-K, and for the first time in 12 years, all three of our babies will be in school.
It is exciting. It is also hard.
I am emotional about the end of this chapter because Michelle Davenport did not just provide childcare for our family. She gave us peace of mind. She gave our girls another home. She gave us support when we needed it most.
She helped us survive those early years without our family nearby, and she made them better than we ever could have imagined.
That is why we love this place.
Because sometimes “place” is not a town, a building, or an address. Sometimes it is a person. Sometimes it is a family who opens their door early in the morning, loves your kids like their own, and becomes part of your story.
Michelle, thank you for loving my girls so well. Thank you for being our village. Thank you for being Auntie Chelle.
We love you.
