I left him with this childcare provider for about 6 months, until one day when I went to pick him up she was in the main room reading to the other children. I asked where my son was and before she could answer a little girl popped out with, "He bees a boob" - I knew she had heard him called that - as I went into a back room where he was in a crib crying his head off. I never took him back.
The next childcare provider for my now 1.5+ year-old little boy was to another highly recommended in-home childcare. He hated going and every morning he'd cry and beg me "Not go Vania's"! This was unbelievably difficult for me, I would cry on my way to work every morning after I'd dropped him off. The last time I took him there was when I picked him up and his lips and fingertips were blue! I was so angry and asked what had she to him so he looked like this. I knew it meant he hadn't been getting enough oxygen. She denied knowing anything about it. That was it. I soon got a job working nights so my little boy was either with his dad or with me. My heart no longer hurt all the time.
The worst daycare center was a huge 2-story house that was like a child warehouse. This was the only place my sister could afford when, due to their husband abandoning them when her youngest of 4 children was only 2 days old and paid NO child support; she was forced by the state to put her 2 year old boy in daycare and work whatever job she could find. There were about 25 beds, a t.v. was on and there was about a 20 to 1 kid to adult ratio. I was shocked at the conditions when I went there to pick up my nephew. At first I couldn't see him as it was dim and there were so many kids. I finally found him sitting on a bed staring into space, tuning out the chaos all around him. Since I was then home during the day with my son, I became a licensed daycare provider just for him so he never had to go back to that kid warehouse.