CG and I arrive to Z's classroom's "Thanksgiving Feast" right on time but it seems all the other parents got there early. Z runs to me, clings to my legs, hopping up and down.
The room is small and filled with small furniture and small people so with E strapped to my chest and my big bag full of rolls and cranberry sauce on my back, I feel like a giant trying not to crush any woodland creatures. Parents have already begun filling their plates and chatting in small groups and I sweat my way through getting our contribution on the buffet and peeling Z off of me every two minutes.
I notice all the parents and kids are wearing adhesive name tags, something that we suggested might help at school events and I start scanning them for the names I recognize from Z's stories. Z sits at her spot at a low table, eating nothing but rolls and butter. None of the kids at her table speak to her. Two of them I don't hear utter a word the whole hour CG and I are there.
At the table next to ours, four girls bounce in their seats, chatting over top of one another, laughing and trading food. I recognize their names as "friends" of Z's from her stories. I also note that they are clearly at the older end of the age range of the classroom and clearly have strong friendships with each other.
"Z? Do you want to introduce me to any of your friends?"
"No."
"Okay."
At another neighboring table, more kids are giggling away, with their moms chatting above them. I try not to think about what I'm wearing when I glance at the moms' suede boots and highlighted hair.
The center director, obviously remembering me saying that we were having a hard time meeting people here, brings one of the suede booted moms over to me, introducing us to each other, although we've met before.
"Your daughters are the same age! I thought maybe Z and A would like a playdate sometime!"
The mom smiles faintly at me and we both stammer a bit about didn't we meet at back to school night?. She says something vague about her group of moms that get together and doesn't she have my email already?
I don't remind her that I've already emailed her about it. Twice.
On the way out, we pass one of the little girls who features prominently in Z's stories of the playground. The girls pass each other without comment and I replay some of Z's stories in my head, suddenly realizing that Z doesn't include herself in her stories of silly, happy playground activities.
----------------
I arrive at the movie theater on time and scan the concession stand where I'm supposed to meet these moms from the large Meetup.com group. There are no clusters of mom-like people at concessions so I stand there for a few minutes, sweating, before continuing on to the theater which is already full of teenagers and moms and couples debating the relative merits of Edward Cullen and Jacob Black. I realize scanning faces won't help since I don't know who I'm looking for and consider sitting by myself before turning on my heels and going back out to the lobby, trying not to let any tears escape. Two women aren't far behind me and when we arrive at the concession stand, all three of us are scanning faces.
I try to smile like a normal person as I approach them and can't help shooting a quick glance at their feet.
No suede boots.
Showing posts with label School/Daycare. Show all posts
Showing posts with label School/Daycare. Show all posts
11/22/09
11/16/09
How do you put the "care" in "preschool"?
I can't believe I'm actually going to type this, but I think my biggest issue with Z's current preschool is that it's not enough like.... daycare.
Crazy, right? I mean, I used to call Z's old daycare her "school" because the word "daycare" gave me the heebee jeebies.
I know I'm looking back through some rose-colored, memory-faded glasses but I really miss her old daycare back in Pasadena. I miss knowing that she had a "primary teacher" who was responsible for knowing her likes and dislikes, for reporting to us at the end of the day how her day went, what she ate, when she pooped. I miss getting to hang out in the classroom and feeling like I really knew what her day was like when I wasn't with her.
I miss her getting to play and learn and learn through playing and playing to learn and not correcting me when we play pretend school at home by saying glumly "No Mommy. We don't play in my school, we do works.".
They took care of her in her old daycare. They were not perfect (as I have to keep reminding myself) but they knew her and listened to her and cared for her. And they let her freaking play.
Last week, she told me that even when she asked, her teachers wouldn't help her in the bathroom. They told her she was big enough to wipe herself. Which, um, SHE'S NOT. NOT QUITE. When she told me this, I wanted to cry. The girl needs just a little bit of CARE, people. SHE'S THREE. How about you help her get to where she doesn't need help in the bathroom. She's almost there, we're working on it too. BUT SHE'S NOT THERE AND SHE ASKED FOR YOUR HELP.
*stepping away from the caps lock*
We toured another daycare/preschool last week and while it probably wasn't the right fit for us (it's not convenient, it's quite large and felt corporate-y, they only have full day, they allow 1/2 hour of "educational TV" which seems silly because HELLO if I wanted my kid to watch more TV I could keep her at home.) it was a good jumping off point to assess what we really want and where to look next.
We're still tortured about all this and every day we flip - "Today she said she loved her teacher! And she has friends! We have to keep her there!"- and flop- "Today she said she didn't want to wear a uniform, didn't want to go to school every day, didn't want to do 'work' because they aren't very fun. We have to move her.". It's exhausting.
We tour yet another preschool/daycare on Wednesday. We hope to come to a decision soon and, if we move her, move her by the first of the year.
Crazy, right? I mean, I used to call Z's old daycare her "school" because the word "daycare" gave me the heebee jeebies.
I know I'm looking back through some rose-colored, memory-faded glasses but I really miss her old daycare back in Pasadena. I miss knowing that she had a "primary teacher" who was responsible for knowing her likes and dislikes, for reporting to us at the end of the day how her day went, what she ate, when she pooped. I miss getting to hang out in the classroom and feeling like I really knew what her day was like when I wasn't with her.
I miss her getting to play and learn and learn through playing and playing to learn and not correcting me when we play pretend school at home by saying glumly "No Mommy. We don't play in my school, we do works.".
They took care of her in her old daycare. They were not perfect (as I have to keep reminding myself) but they knew her and listened to her and cared for her. And they let her freaking play.
Last week, she told me that even when she asked, her teachers wouldn't help her in the bathroom. They told her she was big enough to wipe herself. Which, um, SHE'S NOT. NOT QUITE. When she told me this, I wanted to cry. The girl needs just a little bit of CARE, people. SHE'S THREE. How about you help her get to where she doesn't need help in the bathroom. She's almost there, we're working on it too. BUT SHE'S NOT THERE AND SHE ASKED FOR YOUR HELP.
*stepping away from the caps lock*
We toured another daycare/preschool last week and while it probably wasn't the right fit for us (it's not convenient, it's quite large and felt corporate-y, they only have full day, they allow 1/2 hour of "educational TV" which seems silly because HELLO if I wanted my kid to watch more TV I could keep her at home.) it was a good jumping off point to assess what we really want and where to look next.
We're still tortured about all this and every day we flip - "Today she said she loved her teacher! And she has friends! We have to keep her there!"- and flop- "Today she said she didn't want to wear a uniform, didn't want to go to school every day, didn't want to do 'work' because they aren't very fun. We have to move her.". It's exhausting.
We tour yet another preschool/daycare on Wednesday. We hope to come to a decision soon and, if we move her, move her by the first of the year.
10/4/09
Montes-sorta
(How many bad puns can I find for Montess0ri? We'll surely find out!)
Many thanks to all of you for your comments and emails on the posts about Z's preschool. Writing about this has helped tremendously as we try to settle into the school year. Through reading your comments, I realized that I never fully went through my preferred process when choosing her preschool: my gut. When choosing my college, I had pro and con checklists for each college I got into and then when I stepped onto the campus that would become MY campus, I threw them all away. It just felt right.
I didn't get to have my usual over-researched-and-then-gut-reaction decision making process when looking for Z's preschool. We had to choose it from afar or not send her at all and the thought of being home alone with two kids in a town I knew no one was terrifying to me. So we chose her preschool based on proximity to our house and the teaching method. We had come to love her old school in CA where they use a lot of Montess0ri ideas and equipment. Her teacher there suggested Montess0ri would be a good fit for her. CG visited her new preschool a few times when he came to VA for work and was pleased with what he saw. That was the best we could do.
If I had to do it all over again? I would have worked harder to find moms who could fill me in on the local preschool information. We would maybe have waited until we could tour a bunch of them together, even at the risk of not finding any preschool for her till the spring. We could have hired a nanny to help me with my Keep My Sanity project for the fall and winter rather than send her to a preschool.
But we're here now.
We finally had a meeting last week with Z's teacher and the head of the school. Sitting at the teeny toddler table for a half an hour before school started one day, they both took our concerns seriously and responded with clear ideas for what might make us all feel better. They fully supported us observing the classroom and have been emailing with us since the meeting.
These are all good things.
They both also said they have found Montess0ri to be incompatible with some students' temperaments but they had no concerns about Z. She apparently is chatty and involved and (mostly) following directions. They noticed she seems most interested in working with older children (which reaffirms our feeling that the multi-age classroom would be a good fit for Z as she is fascinated by older children). We also talked a bit about aspects of Montess0ri philosophy that had been concerning to us, such as whether the precision with which she is expected to complete each work might be causing built up frustration. At the end of the meeting, Z and the other children who are in "before care" came in and we got to see what the beginning of the school day looks like, which for some reason was the most helpful of all. (Black hole, NO MORE.)
One of the suggestions they thought of to help with pick up was to switch car seats so that Z wouldn't have to squeeze past E's seat to get to her own when I come to pick them up. It seems small and unimportant but maybe it was just enough to send an overtired, low blood sugar-ed, three year old with a newish baby sister in a new home/town/state around the bend?
When we said goodbye after our meeting, Z dissolved into tears and the teacher quickly came over and encouraged her to pull out a work to show a new, younger girl how to do it. I thought for sure this suggestion would be refused but Z's tears disappeared and she excitedly pulled out a work and started chatting up the new girl about how she used to not know how to do it but now she does. It was comforting to see her respond so confidently and move on so quickly.
We aren't totally convinced that this is the absolute best preschool for her but for now our feelings have stabilized; we're staying put. Just in the last week, we seem to have turned a corner; Z seems to be more and more settled there and less and less of a mess upon pick up.
Perhaps she's in a good place after all. Great? We're still not sure. But it's good enough for now.
9/28/09
The right fit
I finally got my wedding and engagement rings resized on Friday. They have been too tight since I got pregnant with Z. I went ringless starting in my first trimester and finally squeezed them back on my sausage-y man-hands about 6 months after Z was born. They were so tight after that that my ring finger wound up with a waist. When I got pregnant with E, I gave up the fight and buttered up my finger (mmmmm buuutttterrr) to take them off. Every time I tried them on since then, they still didn't fit.
Until now.
After picking them up at the jewelers on Friday, I put them on for the first time in over a year and remembered that warm April night when CG pulled out a little box, got down on one knee in the middle of a fancy pants restaurant and told me he needed a little help with his birthday wish, would you marry me? I sputtered and put it on and had to be reminded to say yes.
Yes.
It amazed me then that the ring was the right size. It fit perfectly. This ring, the one that he earned the money to buy by participating in a long, inconvenient, uncomfortable medical study, slipped right on my finger. He thought it would be a place holder until we had one made.
But it fit.
They fit.
(and are apparently quite tasty)
------------
I bought Z some new uniform pants for her school. I used a much coveted free time slot this weekend to hem them (as she is cursed with her mama's Long Waist/Short Limb Syndrome).
I hope it wasn't a waste of time.
We have yet to meet with Z's teacher and continue to wrestle with ourselves about whether to look for another preschool. I'm trying to not overreact, to calm myself a little bit about my inconsequential knit-picky issues like typos on the promotional material and focus on what really matters: whether this school, this class, is the right fit for our kid.
We want to give her, and ourselves, a chance to adjust to this new school. We don't want to act rashly when there is so much going on that could be clouding our perceptions.
When I try to get the root of my issues with her school, I keep coming back to feeling disconnected from the classroom, like I'm purposefully being kept at arms length. The drop-off/pick-up line (where we drive up and have our child met at the door by a staff member) seems so cold and leaves me with NO sense of the vibe of the classroom that day. I never see how the teacher interacts with my kid. I never see any of the other kids or parents. I feel like Z gets dropped into a black hole for three hours.
So I'm reduced to pretending to be nonchalant as I grill her for detailed information. She tells me about how, at her old school, she could cut any way she wanted but at her new school, she has to cut on the lines. She notes benignly that there aren't any "toys" there, only "works" but seems a bit put off by the conspicuous lack of baby dolls. She complains that some of the "works" that she's interested in are reserved for older kids. I find myself thinking: shouldn't preschool be a magical place where, as long as you are safe and respectful, you get to play with whatever you want, however you want?
Then there's her crazy behavior of late, for which I'm always searching for some external cause. (When she was a baby my go-to explanation was always TEETHING! When she was a toddler it was IMMINENT ILLNESS!) When I pick her up from school, she often screams from unspecified frustration (Z: "AAAHHHHH! I'M FRUSTRATED!!!", Me: "I can hear that. What's frustrating you Z?", Z: "WAAHHHH! I DON'T KNOW!"), refuses to cooperate with anything I say and throws a tantrum at the drop of a hat. It is at lunch time and the school's morning snack is earlier than she's used to. Is it low blood sugar? I always pick her up with E in the car with me. Is it an attention getting/ sibling rivalry thing? This new school is the last of a ton of transitions in her life recently. Was it the last straw? She's three and has been challenging in all kinds of new ways all summer. Is this just the age? Her sleep has been A MESS lately with naps mostly a thing of the past and all of us are unsure if it's better for her to nap or not. Is her messed-up sleep causing all this or is it the other way around??
Is this school the wrong fit for her? Is the classroom so structured that frustration builds up in her until it is safe to let it out?
She does tell me about older kids helping her out; one girl reminded her to use a tissue, another helped her up when she fell on the playground. She asked to bring some cookies that we made at home (mmmmm coookkkies) to her teachers. She proudly shows us her "work" that she brings home at the end of each week. She got upset when I had to pick her up early this week for a pediatrician appointment because she didn't want to miss playground and music time. She tells me repeatedly that she wants to be a "full dayer" like some of her friends.
She has moments of anger and frustration and INSANITY on the weekend that are just like when she gets home from school.
Color me confused.
Time to make an appointment with the teacher.
-------------
Today (YOU ARE MY WITNESSES) I am taking the girls to a local moms' meetup. I've been lurking around their board for weeks now. Today I will try my hardest to be Normal Friendly and pray that I find some other moms that I hit it off with.
It is so hard to be looking for friends at this ripe-old age. So far there have been very few opportunities for me to meet other adults. Mostly I try to chat up moms at the playground with my usual Strange Friendly I've-been-at-home-talking-only-to-children-under-three style. Not surprisingly, this has not been too successful yet.
I feel like I'm still at the very beginning of building a life here.
I hope I find a good fit.
Until now.
After picking them up at the jewelers on Friday, I put them on for the first time in over a year and remembered that warm April night when CG pulled out a little box, got down on one knee in the middle of a fancy pants restaurant and told me he needed a little help with his birthday wish, would you marry me? I sputtered and put it on and had to be reminded to say yes.
Yes.
It amazed me then that the ring was the right size. It fit perfectly. This ring, the one that he earned the money to buy by participating in a long, inconvenient, uncomfortable medical study, slipped right on my finger. He thought it would be a place holder until we had one made.
But it fit.
They fit.
(and are apparently quite tasty)
I bought Z some new uniform pants for her school. I used a much coveted free time slot this weekend to hem them (as she is cursed with her mama's Long Waist/Short Limb Syndrome).
I hope it wasn't a waste of time.
We have yet to meet with Z's teacher and continue to wrestle with ourselves about whether to look for another preschool. I'm trying to not overreact, to calm myself a little bit about my inconsequential knit-picky issues like typos on the promotional material and focus on what really matters: whether this school, this class, is the right fit for our kid.
We want to give her, and ourselves, a chance to adjust to this new school. We don't want to act rashly when there is so much going on that could be clouding our perceptions.
When I try to get the root of my issues with her school, I keep coming back to feeling disconnected from the classroom, like I'm purposefully being kept at arms length. The drop-off/pick-up line (where we drive up and have our child met at the door by a staff member) seems so cold and leaves me with NO sense of the vibe of the classroom that day. I never see how the teacher interacts with my kid. I never see any of the other kids or parents. I feel like Z gets dropped into a black hole for three hours.
So I'm reduced to pretending to be nonchalant as I grill her for detailed information. She tells me about how, at her old school, she could cut any way she wanted but at her new school, she has to cut on the lines. She notes benignly that there aren't any "toys" there, only "works" but seems a bit put off by the conspicuous lack of baby dolls. She complains that some of the "works" that she's interested in are reserved for older kids. I find myself thinking: shouldn't preschool be a magical place where, as long as you are safe and respectful, you get to play with whatever you want, however you want?
Then there's her crazy behavior of late, for which I'm always searching for some external cause. (When she was a baby my go-to explanation was always TEETHING! When she was a toddler it was IMMINENT ILLNESS!) When I pick her up from school, she often screams from unspecified frustration (Z: "AAAHHHHH! I'M FRUSTRATED!!!", Me: "I can hear that. What's frustrating you Z?", Z: "WAAHHHH! I DON'T KNOW!"), refuses to cooperate with anything I say and throws a tantrum at the drop of a hat. It is at lunch time and the school's morning snack is earlier than she's used to. Is it low blood sugar? I always pick her up with E in the car with me. Is it an attention getting/ sibling rivalry thing? This new school is the last of a ton of transitions in her life recently. Was it the last straw? She's three and has been challenging in all kinds of new ways all summer. Is this just the age? Her sleep has been A MESS lately with naps mostly a thing of the past and all of us are unsure if it's better for her to nap or not. Is her messed-up sleep causing all this or is it the other way around??
Is this school the wrong fit for her? Is the classroom so structured that frustration builds up in her until it is safe to let it out?
She does tell me about older kids helping her out; one girl reminded her to use a tissue, another helped her up when she fell on the playground. She asked to bring some cookies that we made at home (mmmmm coookkkies) to her teachers. She proudly shows us her "work" that she brings home at the end of each week. She got upset when I had to pick her up early this week for a pediatrician appointment because she didn't want to miss playground and music time. She tells me repeatedly that she wants to be a "full dayer" like some of her friends.
She has moments of anger and frustration and INSANITY on the weekend that are just like when she gets home from school.
Color me confused.
Time to make an appointment with the teacher.
-------------
Today (YOU ARE MY WITNESSES) I am taking the girls to a local moms' meetup. I've been lurking around their board for weeks now. Today I will try my hardest to be Normal Friendly and pray that I find some other moms that I hit it off with.
It is so hard to be looking for friends at this ripe-old age. So far there have been very few opportunities for me to meet other adults. Mostly I try to chat up moms at the playground with my usual Strange Friendly I've-been-at-home-talking-only-to-children-under-three style. Not surprisingly, this has not been too successful yet.
I feel like I'm still at the very beginning of building a life here.
I hope I find a good fit.
9/21/09
Montes-sorry?
The first strike: The promotional material we originally received last spring from Z's new preschool included many, many typos. The kind of typos that anyone can make, but would easily catch with a simple run of spellcheck. The kind that are sorta unforgivable when coming from an institution that hopes to teach my kid to read eventually. (The kind that are almost as bad as, uh, flagrant use of incomplete sentences and the word 'sorta'?) (BUT THIS IS A BLOG. NOT PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL FOR AN INSTITUTION OF LEARNING.)
CG wouldn't let me look at the material at first, knowing that I would howl at the typos like some kind of wounded-dog-who-happens-to-be-the-world's-first-canine-editor.
I decided I would try very hard to forgive them. Perhaps they were too busy making children into stellar citizens of the world to proofread or run spellcheck?
Strike the second: Their website sucks. It features a very basic, sterile design with small, unexciting photos in which most of the children are NOT SMILING. There is very little information on the methods of the school, the ideas behind the instruction, the reasons why we should pay so much money. Plus: last year's school calendar is still up on the site.
It all makes me wish I knew some html so that I could offer to spruce it up a bit because REALLY.
(So says the blogger with the most boring, plain template EVER. Whatever. DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DO.)
Third strike and you're.... really starting to disappoint me. We hired a babysitter (Turns out our cul de sac is full of teenagers just waiting to be hired by us to watch our kids! And mow our lawns! Yipee!) to go to the Back to School night and it was pretty darned disappointing. Information about the methods of the school? No. Chance to chat with the teacher about our child in particular? Nope. Tour of the "work" that our child has done and will be doing during the school year? Nada. Explanation for the enforced pick up and drop off line that seems a little stringent for THREE YEAR OLDS? No can do. (Opportunity for those of us who DESPERATELY NEED FRIENDS HERE to meet and chat and exchange emails? NO FRIENDS FOR YOU.)
Passing out print material about suggested snack options and penalties for "uniform infractions" and then READING THEM ALOUD VERBATIM? CHECK. (At least there weren't any typos! *smiley face*!)
We are trying to keep an open mind about the school but we are struggling a bit here. It's not just the typos, boring website and pointless Back to School Night; those things are not nearly as important as our daughter's overall experience.
We're not convinced that this school, or Montess0ri in general, is the right fit for our daughter. I know we are all having to adjust from her previous warm and caring school/daycare, where she had a "primary" teacher who was responsible for knowing her likes and dislikes, for receiving her when we came in the morning and listening to what kind of morning Z had and telling me stories about Z's day when I came to pick her up in the afternoon. Of course this school is different. This is preschool now, after all. The fact that she used to be able to cut paper however she likes and now she has to cut paper in a certain way is all part of the progression of school, right?
But how do you know if your kid is so easily frustrated lately because her new school is so serious and strict without enough play or just because she's gone through yet another major transition and has to work through it in typical three year old CRAZY fashion? Is Z's new interest in berating her dollies that they are not playing with things "appopiately" a reflection of what she hears at school? Is her creative self being squashed by the insistence that she do each "work" in a specific way?
How do you know if your kid's (pre)school is the right one?
(This is just the beginning of feeling tortured about my kids' schooling, isn't it? I KNEW IT.)
CG wouldn't let me look at the material at first, knowing that I would howl at the typos like some kind of wounded-dog-who-happens-to-be-the-world's-first-canine-editor.
I decided I would try very hard to forgive them. Perhaps they were too busy making children into stellar citizens of the world to proofread or run spellcheck?
Strike the second: Their website sucks. It features a very basic, sterile design with small, unexciting photos in which most of the children are NOT SMILING. There is very little information on the methods of the school, the ideas behind the instruction, the reasons why we should pay so much money. Plus: last year's school calendar is still up on the site.
It all makes me wish I knew some html so that I could offer to spruce it up a bit because REALLY.
(So says the blogger with the most boring, plain template EVER. Whatever. DO AS I SAY, NOT AS I DO.)
Third strike and you're.... really starting to disappoint me. We hired a babysitter (Turns out our cul de sac is full of teenagers just waiting to be hired by us to watch our kids! And mow our lawns! Yipee!) to go to the Back to School night and it was pretty darned disappointing. Information about the methods of the school? No. Chance to chat with the teacher about our child in particular? Nope. Tour of the "work" that our child has done and will be doing during the school year? Nada. Explanation for the enforced pick up and drop off line that seems a little stringent for THREE YEAR OLDS? No can do. (Opportunity for those of us who DESPERATELY NEED FRIENDS HERE to meet and chat and exchange emails? NO FRIENDS FOR YOU.)
Passing out print material about suggested snack options and penalties for "uniform infractions" and then READING THEM ALOUD VERBATIM? CHECK. (At least there weren't any typos! *smiley face*!)
We are trying to keep an open mind about the school but we are struggling a bit here. It's not just the typos, boring website and pointless Back to School Night; those things are not nearly as important as our daughter's overall experience.
We're not convinced that this school, or Montess0ri in general, is the right fit for our daughter. I know we are all having to adjust from her previous warm and caring school/daycare, where she had a "primary" teacher who was responsible for knowing her likes and dislikes, for receiving her when we came in the morning and listening to what kind of morning Z had and telling me stories about Z's day when I came to pick her up in the afternoon. Of course this school is different. This is preschool now, after all. The fact that she used to be able to cut paper however she likes and now she has to cut paper in a certain way is all part of the progression of school, right?
But how do you know if your kid is so easily frustrated lately because her new school is so serious and strict without enough play or just because she's gone through yet another major transition and has to work through it in typical three year old CRAZY fashion? Is Z's new interest in berating her dollies that they are not playing with things "appopiately" a reflection of what she hears at school? Is her creative self being squashed by the insistence that she do each "work" in a specific way?
How do you know if your kid's (pre)school is the right one?
(This is just the beginning of feeling tortured about my kids' schooling, isn't it? I KNEW IT.)
9/9/08
Excuse me while I cover all my furniture in plastic
When I went to pick up Zoe from School on Friday, we stayed and played for a while before I realized we needed to stop at the grocery store on the way home. I gave her bottom a little pat to check on the status of her diaper and felt.... nothing. NO DIAPER. It seems she had shown an interest in wearing underwear (more than half the kids in her class are now potty trained) and the staff gave her a pair to wear.
Of old, stretched-out, STAINED boy's briefs.
I was a little grossed out and more than a little annoyed, that they hadn't asked me, that they put some random, old, emergency undies on her. That I didn't get to be the one to put her in her first pair of underwear. That the first pair she wore had an escape hatch for an appendage she doesn't have.
I don't know why this whole thing bothers me but it does. We'd been talking about the orange (her favorite color: "ORANGERAGE!") underwear we would buy together and how the very first time she wore underwear we would be together and celebrate. I know it's silly, but on Friday I felt like something had been taken away from me.
I don't often feel like Zoe's teachers overstep their bounds. I usually like the balance of power (ie. they are usually deferential to me and CG, which is, I think, as it should be.). But I've heard them talking a few times about other children with a tone (or words) that suggests that they know the child better than the parents do. When this has happened, most of me thinks: they should step OFF. But the small, petty part of me thinks: well, maybe they do. Maybe since THAT child is at school 5 FULL days a week and MY child is ONLY here 3 partial days a weekI AM SUPERIOR IN ALL WAYS AND MY CHILD WILL BE A SUPERSTAR, the teachers have more time with the child than the parents, at least during the week.
(This time-with-child score-keeping is such an ugly, petty, stupid [DID I MENTION PETTY? UGLY??] part of my brain. Can we just pretend I didn't write it? Think it?)
This weekend, I wrote an email to Zoe's lead teacher and she was apologetic but told me "all the teachers feel Zoe is ready for underwear". Well, that's just dandy isn't it? (And perhaps you could have told me BEFORE you put underwear on her?!) Because I don't think that ANY of Zoe's teachers are going to be willing to come clean out her carseat or have my carpets steam cleaned or do my laundry. What if I'M not ready? Personally, I'd like her to be able to walk into the bathroom, pull down her pants, get on the potty, go, wipe herself, flush, and wash her hands without any prompting/tantrums/extreme dawdling/forcible hand washing and I think we are months, perhaps YEARS away from that.
Whatever, teachers. Yesterday,I pulled my ostrich head out of the sand and we went to Target and got us some tiny undies. Twenty pairs to be exact. Because I have a feeling there will be quite a few pairs that I just don't feel like dealing with, EVER AGAIN. Hopefully that won't happen to the one lone pair of "ORANGERAGE!" undies I could find.
Of old, stretched-out, STAINED boy's briefs.
I was a little grossed out and more than a little annoyed, that they hadn't asked me, that they put some random, old, emergency undies on her. That I didn't get to be the one to put her in her first pair of underwear. That the first pair she wore had an escape hatch for an appendage she doesn't have.
I don't know why this whole thing bothers me but it does. We'd been talking about the orange (her favorite color: "ORANGERAGE!") underwear we would buy together and how the very first time she wore underwear we would be together and celebrate. I know it's silly, but on Friday I felt like something had been taken away from me.
I don't often feel like Zoe's teachers overstep their bounds. I usually like the balance of power (ie. they are usually deferential to me and CG, which is, I think, as it should be.). But I've heard them talking a few times about other children with a tone (or words) that suggests that they know the child better than the parents do. When this has happened, most of me thinks: they should step OFF. But the small, petty part of me thinks: well, maybe they do. Maybe since THAT child is at school 5 FULL days a week and MY child is ONLY here 3 partial days a week
(This time-with-child score-keeping is such an ugly, petty, stupid [DID I MENTION PETTY? UGLY??] part of my brain. Can we just pretend I didn't write it? Think it?)
This weekend, I wrote an email to Zoe's lead teacher and she was apologetic but told me "all the teachers feel Zoe is ready for underwear". Well, that's just dandy isn't it? (And perhaps you could have told me BEFORE you put underwear on her?!) Because I don't think that ANY of Zoe's teachers are going to be willing to come clean out her carseat or have my carpets steam cleaned or do my laundry. What if I'M not ready? Personally, I'd like her to be able to walk into the bathroom, pull down her pants, get on the potty, go, wipe herself, flush, and wash her hands without any prompting/tantrums/extreme dawdling/forcible hand washing and I think we are months, perhaps YEARS away from that.
Whatever, teachers. Yesterday,
4/9/08
My bunny is now a dolphin.
At School, Z is in the midst of FINALLY transitioning from the infant classroom (the Bunnies, 6-18 months) to the older classroom (the Dolphins 18-36 months). We've been waiting for this for awhile. Her friend Maisy was moved last month (don't get me started on that one) and Z misses her. At almost two, Z is one OLD bunny. She is talking up a storm and ready for new adventures.
It is TIME.
And, predictably I guess, I'm sad and nervous for her. Last Friday, CG and I went with Z to spend some time over with the Dolphins. I held her tight as we walked amongst these mysterious older kids to examine the play kitchen, the big outdoor jungle gym and the rows of low sinks and tiny potties. The Dolphins all run so fast! They might push her over! They're all using the adorable little potties! They have already made friends and may not include her! (Oh wait! That last one was a flashback to my 5 grade experience! Sorry.)
I know she is ready. I can't stop time. I can't protect her from every bump and bruise and social snub. I can't make the world perfect and smooth and friendly for her.
Something tells me that this part, the wanting to protect her from the big, bad world part, is only going to get harder.
It is TIME.
And, predictably I guess, I'm sad and nervous for her. Last Friday, CG and I went with Z to spend some time over with the Dolphins. I held her tight as we walked amongst these mysterious older kids to examine the play kitchen, the big outdoor jungle gym and the rows of low sinks and tiny potties. The Dolphins all run so fast! They might push her over! They're all using the adorable little potties! They have already made friends and may not include her! (Oh wait! That last one was a flashback to my 5 grade experience! Sorry.)
I know she is ready. I can't stop time. I can't protect her from every bump and bruise and social snub. I can't make the world perfect and smooth and friendly for her.
Something tells me that this part, the wanting to protect her from the big, bad world part, is only going to get harder.
4/7/08
My "Mommy Wars" are entirely internal.
Eight months ago, Z started part-time daycare.
Questions from my Eight Months Ago Self (EMAS) to my Present Day Self (PDS):
EMAS: You need a break from your baby?? What is wrong with you anyway? You say you love her more than life itself but you are choosing to go back to work part time even though you don't NEED to??
PDS: You're effing right I could use a break from this child. And even more right that I love her more than life itself. EMAS, you've been feeling tired and lonely and worn-out, acting less than stellar to your husband and your child as a result. Trust me, you will feel WAY better once you have a little time in the working world and a little time to yourself. You will appreciate your time with Z SO much more.
-------
EMAS: Don't you miss her terribly?? Don't you know that you are missing out on moments in her life that you can never get back?
PDS: Yes, I sometimes do miss her on the days she's at School. Other days, I honestly think: Thank Chocolate I get a break today. I honestly think I cannot be the primary care-giver day in and day out without getting burned out. Some can but I can't. I accept that and feel like a better mother for making the decision to work part time.
As for the moments I'm missing out on, I do feel sad about them sometimes. Sometimes one of her teachers will tell me she said a new word or Z will come home "singing" a new song that I don't know. I've come to embrace the idea, earlier than maybe I was ready to, that she is going to experience things that I won't know about and can't control. I'm glad she has a safe, warm, loving, stimulating environment in which to do that.
-------
EMAS: Don't you want to be the one to raise your own child? How can you trust STRANGERS to care for your defenseless child?
PDS: F YOU. I AM raising my child. She knows EXACTLY who her mother is. She spends most of her waking hours and has most of her important experiences with me and/or her dad and/or her dog. Her teachers are partners in raising her. They are not perfect but they are good people and I'm happy to have the help.
-------
(Yes, I do actually have conversations in my head with past and present versions of myself. That's, like, TOTALLY normal, right?)
Questions from my Eight Months Ago Self (EMAS) to my Present Day Self (PDS):
EMAS: You need a break from your baby?? What is wrong with you anyway? You say you love her more than life itself but you are choosing to go back to work part time even though you don't NEED to??
PDS: You're effing right I could use a break from this child. And even more right that I love her more than life itself. EMAS, you've been feeling tired and lonely and worn-out, acting less than stellar to your husband and your child as a result. Trust me, you will feel WAY better once you have a little time in the working world and a little time to yourself. You will appreciate your time with Z SO much more.
-------
EMAS: Don't you miss her terribly?? Don't you know that you are missing out on moments in her life that you can never get back?
PDS: Yes, I sometimes do miss her on the days she's at School. Other days, I honestly think: Thank Chocolate I get a break today. I honestly think I cannot be the primary care-giver day in and day out without getting burned out. Some can but I can't. I accept that and feel like a better mother for making the decision to work part time.
As for the moments I'm missing out on, I do feel sad about them sometimes. Sometimes one of her teachers will tell me she said a new word or Z will come home "singing" a new song that I don't know. I've come to embrace the idea, earlier than maybe I was ready to, that she is going to experience things that I won't know about and can't control. I'm glad she has a safe, warm, loving, stimulating environment in which to do that.
-------
EMAS: Don't you want to be the one to raise your own child? How can you trust STRANGERS to care for your defenseless child?
PDS: F YOU. I AM raising my child. She knows EXACTLY who her mother is. She spends most of her waking hours and has most of her important experiences with me and/or her dad and/or her dog. Her teachers are partners in raising her. They are not perfect but they are good people and I'm happy to have the help.
-------
(Yes, I do actually have conversations in my head with past and present versions of myself. That's, like, TOTALLY normal, right?)
1/17/08
It's a red, numberless world.
(So I got an email from a friend gently suggesting that yesterday's post was a bit off in tone. She suggested that I not get all "wah, I was TOO fit, WAH" too often, lest I piss someone off. Oops. Sorry. I was trying to speak my truth but perhaps I missed the mark this time.)
(Anyway.)
The other day I went to pick up Z at School and I made the usual chitchat with one of the teachers about how both Z and another girl (we'll call her Maisy) are due to move up to the next classroom. The one with the little low potties (aw!) and the little low sinks (aw!) and the cheaper price tag/huge yard with a slide/set nap schedule (Z and CBHM: "YES PLEASE. GIMME NOW.")
The teacher very sweetly said to me: "Yeah, Maisy is SO ready. She knows her colors and her numbers 1-10. She's SO ready to get out of here and be with the older kids who are more on her level."
And I, being the crazy person I am, totally took offense.
I mean, maybe Z isn't great with colors (everything is "red" in her world currently) and doesn't know her numbers (Jesus. Am I supposed to be working on numbers with her already? It's not like we don't TALK about numbers but I'm not especially focused on smushing calculus into her little brain yet, you know?) but that doesn't mean she too isn't ready to be with the "older kids who are more on her level". At the very least, I can totally attest to the fact that she is SO ready, has been in intense training really, for the SLIDE.
Maybe Maisy should stay behind and tutor the 6 month olds on their frickin' colors. We wouldn't want them to FALL BEHIND.
(Anyway.)
The other day I went to pick up Z at School and I made the usual chitchat with one of the teachers about how both Z and another girl (we'll call her Maisy) are due to move up to the next classroom. The one with the little low potties (aw!) and the little low sinks (aw!) and the cheaper price tag/huge yard with a slide/set nap schedule (Z and CBHM: "YES PLEASE. GIMME NOW.")
The teacher very sweetly said to me: "Yeah, Maisy is SO ready. She knows her colors and her numbers 1-10. She's SO ready to get out of here and be with the older kids who are more on her level."
And I, being the crazy person I am, totally took offense.
I mean, maybe Z isn't great with colors (everything is "red" in her world currently) and doesn't know her numbers (Jesus. Am I supposed to be working on numbers with her already? It's not like we don't TALK about numbers but I'm not especially focused on smushing calculus into her little brain yet, you know?) but that doesn't mean she too isn't ready to be with the "older kids who are more on her level". At the very least, I can totally attest to the fact that she is SO ready, has been in intense training really, for the SLIDE.
Maybe Maisy should stay behind and tutor the 6 month olds on their frickin' colors. We wouldn't want them to FALL BEHIND.
11/1/07
Straddling the great divide.
For those of you who came late to the party, here's a little backstory on the whole school/daycare situation.
I stayed home with Z for the first 16 months of her life. I wasn't sure how I would feel after her birth and was open-ended about going back to work. I decided early on that nothing felt as important as raising her and that meant I would stay home indefinitely.
I then went a teensy bit mental, at random intervals.
So I started working one morning a week, just a few clients, while CG stayed home with Z. This worked for about a year. Luckily, the child care center on the campus where CG works called us right around the time that we decided we needed some more help.
Up until 2 months ago, Z had been watched only sporadically by other people; by her grandparents whenever they're in town and by two non-family babysitters who rock our world on a not-quite-regular-enough basis. For the first 16 months of her life, I knew every little thing that had ever happened to her and I, frighteningly, felt like I could/should control every aspect of her day, life, world.
Those of you who've been reading for a few months know this: when she started part time day care about 2 months ago, my world was rocked.
Now that I have officially left the constraining, proud, boring, comfortable, known existence of being Stay at Home Mom I find myself in limbo. I don't really feel like I've entered into true Working Mom territory. For starters, I work very part time. But mostly, I don't think I fit the Working Mom mold. In my mind, Working Mom wears a skirt suit, "blouse", sensible heels and carries a briefcase. As a Pilates instructor, I wear stretchy pants and flip flops; I'm often more dressed up at the grocery store than I am at work.
I feel like I'm straddling this great Mommy divide, at least mentally. How's Working Part Time/Home Part Time Mom for a title? WPT/HPTM?
Becoming a WPT/HPTM has some losses involved, of course. I can't go to all my former sanity-saving playgroups so I miss my old SAHM friends. I don't have every nap time at home to get things done around the house. But hardest for me so far is knowing that I'm missing things in her life. I don't know every single thing that has happened to Z anymore. She often smells weird when I pick her up from school and I don't know what she's done that day so I'm left sniffing and guessing: dirt from the sandbox? new crayons? some other kid's lunch?
Smells get to me the most. I don't like the diapers they use at school; their scent gives me a headache. I almost always immediately change her diaper when we get home. It's my small way of reclaiming her: I know you, I know your smell, you're mine.
My dirtiest little secret isn't that I don't have to work. For some reason, I don't feel all that guilty about that. I work because it makes me happier, more whole; both because of the break I get from the drain of constant childcare and because of what I get from working (speaking with adults about something other than poop and tantrums, feeling reasonably competent at something, keeping those parts of my brain that don't involve repetitive reading of certain books or changing diapers from atrophying).
No, my dirtiest little secret is that I don't spend the entirety of Z's time in "school" working. On most of the days she's there I have a few hours after my clients to work out (this is partly my job but still somewhat indulgent) and run an errand or two. Last week was even more dirty than normal because I had a few clients cancel so I was left with some more open time. This meant that I spent several hours on both Thursday and Friday at home. While Z was at school. As in, I could have picked her up early but I chose to come home and do things around the house without her.
Frankly, this is rocking my world. Who knew that cleaning out a closet in my empty house would feel like the most outrageous, self-indulgent thing I could possibly do?
It is simultaneously freeing ("You mean I can actually focus on one thing for as long as I want to and listen to loud music that doesn't involve any animal sounds?!?!") and guilt-inducing ("If I really were a great mom, I would never need a break from my child. I'd figure out how to get everything done and get all my needs met in between chasing her around the house and repetitively reading the same damn Miffy book over and over and over again.").
Straddling these two Mommy worlds is certainly challenging but I'm learning to like it and I think I'm finding a balance. I still get to go to my parenting education class and a few playgroups here and there. And I get my time in the working world as well. It's starting to seem like I get the best of both worlds.
Since Z just gives a wave at drop-off and seems to be thriving there as well as at home with me, I think she'd agree. And that matters almost as much as, if not more than, me getting a chance to eat a lunch or two a week in peace and quiet.
I stayed home with Z for the first 16 months of her life. I wasn't sure how I would feel after her birth and was open-ended about going back to work. I decided early on that nothing felt as important as raising her and that meant I would stay home indefinitely.
I then went a teensy bit mental, at random intervals.
So I started working one morning a week, just a few clients, while CG stayed home with Z. This worked for about a year. Luckily, the child care center on the campus where CG works called us right around the time that we decided we needed some more help.
Up until 2 months ago, Z had been watched only sporadically by other people; by her grandparents whenever they're in town and by two non-family babysitters who rock our world on a not-quite-regular-enough basis. For the first 16 months of her life, I knew every little thing that had ever happened to her and I, frighteningly, felt like I could/should control every aspect of her day, life, world.
Those of you who've been reading for a few months know this: when she started part time day care about 2 months ago, my world was rocked.
Now that I have officially left the constraining, proud, boring, comfortable, known existence of being Stay at Home Mom I find myself in limbo. I don't really feel like I've entered into true Working Mom territory. For starters, I work very part time. But mostly, I don't think I fit the Working Mom mold. In my mind, Working Mom wears a skirt suit, "blouse", sensible heels and carries a briefcase. As a Pilates instructor, I wear stretchy pants and flip flops; I'm often more dressed up at the grocery store than I am at work.
I feel like I'm straddling this great Mommy divide, at least mentally. How's Working Part Time/Home Part Time Mom for a title? WPT/HPTM?
Becoming a WPT/HPTM has some losses involved, of course. I can't go to all my former sanity-saving playgroups so I miss my old SAHM friends. I don't have every nap time at home to get things done around the house. But hardest for me so far is knowing that I'm missing things in her life. I don't know every single thing that has happened to Z anymore. She often smells weird when I pick her up from school and I don't know what she's done that day so I'm left sniffing and guessing: dirt from the sandbox? new crayons? some other kid's lunch?
Smells get to me the most. I don't like the diapers they use at school; their scent gives me a headache. I almost always immediately change her diaper when we get home. It's my small way of reclaiming her: I know you, I know your smell, you're mine.
My dirtiest little secret isn't that I don't have to work. For some reason, I don't feel all that guilty about that. I work because it makes me happier, more whole; both because of the break I get from the drain of constant childcare and because of what I get from working (speaking with adults about something other than poop and tantrums, feeling reasonably competent at something, keeping those parts of my brain that don't involve repetitive reading of certain books or changing diapers from atrophying).
No, my dirtiest little secret is that I don't spend the entirety of Z's time in "school" working. On most of the days she's there I have a few hours after my clients to work out (this is partly my job but still somewhat indulgent) and run an errand or two. Last week was even more dirty than normal because I had a few clients cancel so I was left with some more open time. This meant that I spent several hours on both Thursday and Friday at home. While Z was at school. As in, I could have picked her up early but I chose to come home and do things around the house without her.
Frankly, this is rocking my world. Who knew that cleaning out a closet in my empty house would feel like the most outrageous, self-indulgent thing I could possibly do?
It is simultaneously freeing ("You mean I can actually focus on one thing for as long as I want to and listen to loud music that doesn't involve any animal sounds?!?!") and guilt-inducing ("If I really were a great mom, I would never need a break from my child. I'd figure out how to get everything done and get all my needs met in between chasing her around the house and repetitively reading the same damn Miffy book over and over and over again.").
Straddling these two Mommy worlds is certainly challenging but I'm learning to like it and I think I'm finding a balance. I still get to go to my parenting education class and a few playgroups here and there. And I get my time in the working world as well. It's starting to seem like I get the best of both worlds.
Since Z just gives a wave at drop-off and seems to be thriving there as well as at home with me, I think she'd agree. And that matters almost as much as, if not more than, me getting a chance to eat a lunch or two a week in peace and quiet.
10/10/07
The First Month School/Daycare Status Report.
After a very up-and-down first month of school/daycare, here's our balance sheet: (Fine, it's been over a month. I've been busy, okay?)
1. I was fearing she would never, ever nap there unless they sedated her.
Pro: She is already napping there. And she hasn't been drugged. (!?!?!?)
Con: She doesn't nap well or enough there and it's made a bit of a mess of our schedule. (ooh. How Iadore cling to clutch it to my chest like a treasured talisman like my schedule.)
Status: A draw.
2. I was fearing she would spend much of her time crying and upset with no love or attention from the teachers.
Pro: She has grown increasingly happy and playful there with each visit. In fact, she just waves goodbye these days and cries when we LEAVE!
Con: She still gets a little rattled when the scene is chaotic and anytime that she does cry there I think: "This wouldn't happen at home". Plus, she cries when we're leaving? WTF? Like home is so boring?? (I know, I know it's all about the gaggle of toys and not some major referendum of our home as preferred living space. But STILL. Sheesh.)
Status: Positive.
3. I was worried she would learn bad behaviors from the other children.
Pro: Nothing major this way comes. Yet.
Con: There has been a mild uptick in Robust Throwing of Blocks but I'm not sure we can blame that on school/daycare.
Status: Positive.
4. I was worried about her immune system and how we would all handle the influx of new germs.
Pro: No barfing yet! (*madly knocking wood*). Boy howdy, I hate the barfing.
Con: Every other manner of toddler germ cycled through in the first three weeks, forcing us to stress and scramble to cover work obligations while taking care of her.
Status:would say Negative because she has been sick a lot but since none of it was barfing and I don't want to tempt the barfing gods, I will say Positive.
5. I was hoping that having this time away from her would make me more organized, more focused on- and appreciative of- her when I'm with her and more relaxed as I'm getting a few more of my needs met.
Pro: I am definitely more focused on her when I'm with her. I really see her. I really want to be with her. I don't find myself trying to force her to play by herself so that I can just. get. a moment. of. PEACE! (She does chose to play by herself very nicely throughout the day, it's just never when I want her to, like when I'm cooking dinner or going to the bathroom.) I realize just how precious my time is with her and I don't take a second for granted. I wish I felt like that before we had her in daycare but I didn't.
Con: I am definitely not more organized. I am hopelessly unorganized/disorganized/NOT-AT-ALL organized. Being out of the house for longer chunks, and not having a nap time or two every day to get things cleaned and organized, means that I have to do housework and dishes and other unmentionables at night. Which is when I prefer to sit like a lump on the couch and watch tv, on the computer chair and blog or on the bed and read. So I'm still working on this one.
Status: Positive, I think. (Hey, look at me! I'm almost feeling really positive about daycare!?!?! Who would have thunk it?)
1. I was fearing she would never, ever nap there unless they sedated her.
Pro: She is already napping there. And she hasn't been drugged. (!?!?!?)
Con: She doesn't nap well or enough there and it's made a bit of a mess of our schedule. (ooh. How I
Status: A draw.
2. I was fearing she would spend much of her time crying and upset with no love or attention from the teachers.
Pro: She has grown increasingly happy and playful there with each visit. In fact, she just waves goodbye these days and cries when we LEAVE!
Con: She still gets a little rattled when the scene is chaotic and anytime that she does cry there I think: "This wouldn't happen at home". Plus, she cries when we're leaving? WTF? Like home is so boring?? (I know, I know it's all about the gaggle of toys and not some major referendum of our home as preferred living space. But STILL. Sheesh.)
Status: Positive.
3. I was worried she would learn bad behaviors from the other children.
Pro: Nothing major this way comes. Yet.
Con: There has been a mild uptick in Robust Throwing of Blocks but I'm not sure we can blame that on school/daycare.
Status: Positive.
4. I was worried about her immune system and how we would all handle the influx of new germs.
Pro: No barfing yet! (*madly knocking wood*). Boy howdy, I hate the barfing.
Con: Every other manner of toddler germ cycled through in the first three weeks, forcing us to stress and scramble to cover work obligations while taking care of her.
Status:
5. I was hoping that having this time away from her would make me more organized, more focused on- and appreciative of- her when I'm with her and more relaxed as I'm getting a few more of my needs met.
Pro: I am definitely more focused on her when I'm with her. I really see her. I really want to be with her. I don't find myself trying to force her to play by herself so that I can just. get. a moment. of. PEACE! (She does chose to play by herself very nicely throughout the day, it's just never when I want her to, like when I'm cooking dinner or going to the bathroom.) I realize just how precious my time is with her and I don't take a second for granted. I wish I felt like that before we had her in daycare but I didn't.
Con: I am definitely not more organized. I am hopelessly unorganized/disorganized/NOT-AT-ALL organized. Being out of the house for longer chunks, and not having a nap time or two every day to get things cleaned and organized, means that I have to do housework and dishes and other unmentionables at night. Which is when I prefer to sit like a lump on the couch and watch tv, on the computer chair and blog or on the bed and read. So I'm still working on this one.
Status: Positive, I think. (Hey, look at me! I'm almost feeling really positive about daycare!?!?! Who would have thunk it?)
9/23/07
Uh, Success?
This was Z's third official week of full-day, three-days-a-week daycare. Of the roughly 20 hours a week that we are paying for, she spent exactly 4 hours this week. But this was a huge step up from last week's total of 2, read it, 2 hours. Which was a huge improvement over the first official week which included 1 glorious and gut wrenching hour of childcare.
What's to blame for our truancy? Well, the first week started with a fever and rash. The second week was a laugh riot that included a whole family snotfest and pink eye. This last week began with a 4 hour stint on Tuesday which was promptly followed by some diarrhea on Wednesday night which we only later figured out was due to her obsessively fruitopian diet but being the zealous rule follower that I am, I kept Z out of daycare on Thursday. By Friday, my mother in law was staying with us and kindly offered to take care of her while I worked my morning shift.
But if I'm being honest with myself, this week was sort of a, uh, I guess you could call it a, uh, success?
Because, on Tuesday she did some things at daycare she has never done before. She NAPPED (they swear they didn't drug her but I'm not so sure....). And ATE. And apparently her head didn't spin around while she shot sparks out of her eye sockets when her father dropped her off. And when I went to pick her up, she was her normal, crazy, toddler self the rest of the day. I mean, she doesn't seem damaged at all.
I am still terribly conflicted about Z being in daycare. (Really? It's so obvious that I don't even need to write that?) When I'm there with her I watch the amazing but tired women who work there doing a job I could never do- running in circles, with a baby in each arm, tending to diapers and bottles and insistent but totally unclear needs and books and "crafts" (for babies? and budding toddlers? Am I so lame to think that it's a little early for painting with real paint and brushes?!?!). And this is all set to a loud, ululating chorus of wailing and whimpering and tantrumming.
When faced with this scene, I have the hardest time thinking: "This is EXACTLY where I want to leave my daughter for the better part of the day!".
But maybe it's working? Maybe she's adjusting? Maybe this won't damage her? Maybe when she moves out of this baby room and into the true toddler room, it'll be different? Better? Maybe??
I do scan Craig's List for nannies on a somewhat regular basis. I also think that moving to be closer to grandparents is, perhaps, the smartest thing parents can do. That grass on either side of me is looking so very green.....
What's to blame for our truancy? Well, the first week started with a fever and rash. The second week was a laugh riot that included a whole family snotfest and pink eye. This last week began with a 4 hour stint on Tuesday which was promptly followed by some diarrhea on Wednesday night which we only later figured out was due to her obsessively fruitopian diet but being the zealous rule follower that I am, I kept Z out of daycare on Thursday. By Friday, my mother in law was staying with us and kindly offered to take care of her while I worked my morning shift.
But if I'm being honest with myself, this week was sort of a, uh, I guess you could call it a, uh, success?
Because, on Tuesday she did some things at daycare she has never done before. She NAPPED (they swear they didn't drug her but I'm not so sure....). And ATE. And apparently her head didn't spin around while she shot sparks out of her eye sockets when her father dropped her off. And when I went to pick her up, she was her normal, crazy, toddler self the rest of the day. I mean, she doesn't seem damaged at all.
I am still terribly conflicted about Z being in daycare. (Really? It's so obvious that I don't even need to write that?) When I'm there with her I watch the amazing but tired women who work there doing a job I could never do- running in circles, with a baby in each arm, tending to diapers and bottles and insistent but totally unclear needs and books and "crafts" (for babies? and budding toddlers? Am I so lame to think that it's a little early for painting with real paint and brushes?!?!). And this is all set to a loud, ululating chorus of wailing and whimpering and tantrumming.
When faced with this scene, I have the hardest time thinking: "This is EXACTLY where I want to leave my daughter for the better part of the day!".
But maybe it's working? Maybe she's adjusting? Maybe this won't damage her? Maybe when she moves out of this baby room and into the true toddler room, it'll be different? Better? Maybe??
I do scan Craig's List for nannies on a somewhat regular basis. I also think that moving to be closer to grandparents is, perhaps, the smartest thing parents can do. That grass on either side of me is looking so very green.....
9/8/07
Sybil takes her daughter to school/daycare.
Personality #1: "School will be good for her. By spending time away from me, she'll learn to be independent and resilient."
Personality #2: "Daycare is where she will learn that the world is cold, harsh place where Mama dumps her to go off and do something she deems more important than raising her."
Personality #1: "I am showing my daughter that I am strong woman who has her own needs and her own career goals. I will lead by example that women can be mothers without losing themselves."
Personality #2: "I am showing my daughter that I do not view motherhood as truly valuable 'work'."
Personality #1: "School will help build her immune system."
Personality #2: "Daycare will cause ten thousand plagues to descend upon our house."
Personality #1: "When I am away from my daughter, I can finally turn off the constant vigilance of motherhood, focus on myself and come back to her refreshed and ready to be present as a mother in a way that I cannot be without those breaks."
Personality #2: "When I am away from my daughter, I have that phantom limb feeling. Like something is missing. I look at the clock and wonder 'what's she doing?', 'is she okay?', and 'will I ever get over feeling guilty and actually ENJOY my time away from her?'."
Personality #1: "Kids I know who have been in school at her age seem more independent and assertive, qualities I want to instill in my daughter."
Personality #2: "Kids I know who have been in daycare at her age seem more aggressive and mouthy, obviously picking up bad behaviors from their peers."
Personality #1: "We are too enmeshed. She needs some space from me to grow up to be her own person. By letting others care for her, she will learn to trust others as well as herself."
Personality #2: "We have the close, constant, primary relationship that is vital for a child her age to have. At daycare, with too many teachers floating around the classroom, she will get lost in the shuffle and feel unmoored."
Personality #1: "I am telling my daughter that, though I love her very much, there are things that matter to me other than mothering."
Personality #2: "I am telling my daughter that, though I love her very much, there are things that matter to me other than mothering."
Personality #2: "Daycare is where she will learn that the world is cold, harsh place where Mama dumps her to go off and do something she deems more important than raising her."
Personality #1: "I am showing my daughter that I am strong woman who has her own needs and her own career goals. I will lead by example that women can be mothers without losing themselves."
Personality #2: "I am showing my daughter that I do not view motherhood as truly valuable 'work'."
Personality #1: "School will help build her immune system."
Personality #2: "Daycare will cause ten thousand plagues to descend upon our house."
Personality #1: "When I am away from my daughter, I can finally turn off the constant vigilance of motherhood, focus on myself and come back to her refreshed and ready to be present as a mother in a way that I cannot be without those breaks."
Personality #2: "When I am away from my daughter, I have that phantom limb feeling. Like something is missing. I look at the clock and wonder 'what's she doing?', 'is she okay?', and 'will I ever get over feeling guilty and actually ENJOY my time away from her?'."
Personality #1: "Kids I know who have been in school at her age seem more independent and assertive, qualities I want to instill in my daughter."
Personality #2: "Kids I know who have been in daycare at her age seem more aggressive and mouthy, obviously picking up bad behaviors from their peers."
Personality #1: "We are too enmeshed. She needs some space from me to grow up to be her own person. By letting others care for her, she will learn to trust others as well as herself."
Personality #2: "We have the close, constant, primary relationship that is vital for a child her age to have. At daycare, with too many teachers floating around the classroom, she will get lost in the shuffle and feel unmoored."
Personality #1: "I am telling my daughter that, though I love her very much, there are things that matter to me other than mothering."
Personality #2: "I am telling my daughter that, though I love her very much, there are things that matter to me other than mothering."
9/5/07
The first daycare plague.
Yesterday was supposed to be Z's "landing" day at daycare. I love that term: "landing". It's a bird, it's a plane, it's SUPERTODDLER! "Landing" at a classroom near you!
So of course, she got a raging fever this weekend (no doubt some random daycare plague she caught last week as we transitioned her into the classroom) and though it was finally down yesterday morning and she had no other symptoms we had to wait till the fever has been gone for 24 hours before sending her back to the petri-dish, er classroom. I am hesitant to take her anywhere now, let alone back to daycare; with all the snotty toddlers in there, she might as well be french-kissing someone in the mononucleosis ward.
How is this supposed to work exactly? I was stressed enough about her being IN daycare, I wasn't fully prepared for the stress of she's-supposed-to-be-in-daycare-but-she-has-to-stay-home.
Chic Geek had an important meeting and lots of work to do and I had a full morning of Pilates clients scheduled (Yes, that's the higher calling that I am putting my child in daycare for. It may not be curing cancer but I enjoy it and it pays relatively well for part-time work.). I knew this would happen, but so soon? I couldn't exactly cancel my clients on my FIRST DAY. So CG took the morning off, missed his meeting and I rushed home so that he could speed off to work till 10 last night.
I guess we could do that: a few days a week, I could work for a three or four hour block in the morning and he could work till midnight. That would totally kill the roughly three hours of free couple time we have in between Z's bedtime and ours but hey! the kid would be taken care of by the people who love her most, I would keep one foot in the adult, working world and we would be pulling in some more income.
Who cares about our needs as a couple, right? Who cares if we never see each other or have time to relax or watch a Flight of the Conchords episode for the 54th time?
OOOh but think of all the money we'd save. (read: spend).
(Note: I am a big girl and have started referring to Z's daycare as.... "daycare". But I reserve the right to call it "school" anytime I get anxious or guilt-ridden.)
So of course, she got a raging fever this weekend (no doubt some random daycare plague she caught last week as we transitioned her into the classroom) and though it was finally down yesterday morning and she had no other symptoms we had to wait till the fever has been gone for 24 hours before sending her back to the petri-dish, er classroom. I am hesitant to take her anywhere now, let alone back to daycare; with all the snotty toddlers in there, she might as well be french-kissing someone in the mononucleosis ward.
How is this supposed to work exactly? I was stressed enough about her being IN daycare, I wasn't fully prepared for the stress of she's-supposed-to-be-in-daycare-but-she-has-to-stay-home.
Chic Geek had an important meeting and lots of work to do and I had a full morning of Pilates clients scheduled (Yes, that's the higher calling that I am putting my child in daycare for. It may not be curing cancer but I enjoy it and it pays relatively well for part-time work.). I knew this would happen, but so soon? I couldn't exactly cancel my clients on my FIRST DAY. So CG took the morning off, missed his meeting and I rushed home so that he could speed off to work till 10 last night.
I guess we could do that: a few days a week, I could work for a three or four hour block in the morning and he could work till midnight. That would totally kill the roughly three hours of free couple time we have in between Z's bedtime and ours but hey! the kid would be taken care of by the people who love her most, I would keep one foot in the adult, working world and we would be pulling in some more income.
Who cares about our needs as a couple, right? Who cares if we never see each other or have time to relax or watch a Flight of the Conchords episode for the 54th time?
OOOh but think of all the money we'd save. (read: spend).
(Note: I am a big girl and have started referring to Z's daycare as.... "daycare". But I reserve the right to call it "school" anytime I get anxious or guilt-ridden.)
8/25/07
"School".
We've been calling Z's daycare "school". Somehow it makes us feel better about the idea of leaving her somewhere without us for long stretches of the day. At "daycare", she might languish: unloved, bored, directionless. At "school", she will learn many things and experience culture and meet new friends and make wild animals out of pipe cleaners and popsicle sticks. Some OTHER parents might drop their kid at daycare. Not us, though. We are taking ours to "SCHOOL".
Can you tell that the jury is still out about this whole thing?
We took her there on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday this week. I stayed with her for a bit and then left her for a half hour, 45 minutes and then finally, on Friday, for an hour. All three times she has reacted the same way. Excited when she sees the building and hears that she's going to "school". Happy to be playing there with the plethora of push toys and the ginormous sandbox and the oh-so-cute miniature chairs. Sad to say goodbye to me. Ambivalent to say hello. Pissed to leave.
This all sounds good, no? Then why is it still so hard? Why do I still feel like this is just wrong?
This has been a rough week for us, a reverse-Midas-touch week. You know, like everything you touch turns to .... poo. (What can I say? I have a soon-to-be-speaking toddler. We've been working on cleaning up our language.) Fabulous Husband was working late most of the week. On Tuesday, someone drove down our street shooting off a BB gun which hit our front window and sent my Chic Geek onto his stomach on the floor thinking we were being seriously shot at. I locked my keys in my car on Thursday, required FH to come all the way home to bail me out. On Friday, I was demonstrating a Pilates exercise on the physio ball to a client and I slipped and fell on my tailbone really, really hard. The same tailbone I had a hairline fracture in years ago when I was dropped in a dance rehearsal. The same tailbone my lovely daughter was pressing so insistently on during her sunny-side up delivery lo some 15 months ago. The same tailbone that is now, as I type, becoming intimate with a bag of frozen peas.
Z's been pissier with us this week. More frequently tantrum-y. Our great sleeper, the one who is put down in her crib awake and puts herself to sleep silently, has been fighting naps some times to the point of skipping one all together. (We haven't even begun to try to have her nap at "school" yet. Can I still blame it on school anyway?) She's started throwing things. She's clingier. She's less resilient in her moods and so, therefore, am I.
I really want to blame all the rough spots of this week on daycare because it's the obvious, new variable in this equation. Of course, there are always other variables and there is no control group for this little experiment we call parenting. Before daycare, teething was our default scapegoat for all things bad in Zland and she's got at least one tooth on deck at the moment. Plus, right about now is when she's supposed to drop one nap and I hear that things can go a little haywire when that happens. Maybe all this yuckiness in her behavior can be explained by the usual suspects of teething and sleep-shifting? I mean this IS the time that the crazy, defiant toddler behaviors come out, right?
All I know is that I'm still blaming me locking my keys in my car on daycare.
Can you tell that the jury is still out about this whole thing?
We took her there on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday this week. I stayed with her for a bit and then left her for a half hour, 45 minutes and then finally, on Friday, for an hour. All three times she has reacted the same way. Excited when she sees the building and hears that she's going to "school". Happy to be playing there with the plethora of push toys and the ginormous sandbox and the oh-so-cute miniature chairs. Sad to say goodbye to me. Ambivalent to say hello. Pissed to leave.
This all sounds good, no? Then why is it still so hard? Why do I still feel like this is just wrong?
This has been a rough week for us, a reverse-Midas-touch week. You know, like everything you touch turns to .... poo. (What can I say? I have a soon-to-be-speaking toddler. We've been working on cleaning up our language.) Fabulous Husband was working late most of the week. On Tuesday, someone drove down our street shooting off a BB gun which hit our front window and sent my Chic Geek onto his stomach on the floor thinking we were being seriously shot at. I locked my keys in my car on Thursday, required FH to come all the way home to bail me out. On Friday, I was demonstrating a Pilates exercise on the physio ball to a client and I slipped and fell on my tailbone really, really hard. The same tailbone I had a hairline fracture in years ago when I was dropped in a dance rehearsal. The same tailbone my lovely daughter was pressing so insistently on during her sunny-side up delivery lo some 15 months ago. The same tailbone that is now, as I type, becoming intimate with a bag of frozen peas.
Z's been pissier with us this week. More frequently tantrum-y. Our great sleeper, the one who is put down in her crib awake and puts herself to sleep silently, has been fighting naps some times to the point of skipping one all together. (We haven't even begun to try to have her nap at "school" yet. Can I still blame it on school anyway?) She's started throwing things. She's clingier. She's less resilient in her moods and so, therefore, am I.
I really want to blame all the rough spots of this week on daycare because it's the obvious, new variable in this equation. Of course, there are always other variables and there is no control group for this little experiment we call parenting. Before daycare, teething was our default scapegoat for all things bad in Zland and she's got at least one tooth on deck at the moment. Plus, right about now is when she's supposed to drop one nap and I hear that things can go a little haywire when that happens. Maybe all this yuckiness in her behavior can be explained by the usual suspects of teething and sleep-shifting? I mean this IS the time that the crazy, defiant toddler behaviors come out, right?
All I know is that I'm still blaming me locking my keys in my car on daycare.
8/20/07
My favorite river in Egypt.
On my to-do list tonight, I am supposed to paste some pictures of our family onto a piece of paper and write titles like "Mama" and "Daddy" under them. I'm supposed to use a permanent laundry marker and write Z's name on her clothes, crib sheets and diaper cremes. It's all of a sudden getting very, very hard to live in denial. Z is starting day care. Tomorrow. (Kinda.)
We are doing a long, protracted transition to Z being in day care on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, all day, without me. Last week, we spent about an hour and a half there on each of our days, playing with the toys, meeting the "teachers" and kids, and getting used to the surroundings. This week, I'm supposed to leave her there for longer and longer intervals on each of those days. Next week, even longer intervals. We are very lucky that they are allowing us to do this so slowly, especially since we aren't officially paying for it until September 1st.
I wish I felt lucky.
I can't get over this sickening feeling that this whole thing is just so WRONG. She will experience things that I won't know about. She will see something and sign it's name and people may not notice or understand. She might be bullied or bitten or fall down. She will be on her own and I will have no control over what happens to her. She will be sad and need comfort and miss her Mommy.
(deep breath)
I CAN imagine the best case scenario actually happening so I'm going to focus on it and hope that it comes true. She is happy there and learns to nap there (I will take the leap of faith). She plays and learns and loves it so much she cries when we leave. I am fulfilled at work, have some time to myself after work where I can work out or run errands or talk on the phone without murmuring the inevitable "Yes, Z I'll get that for you in a minute!" and "Oh sweetheart, did you fall down?" every two seconds. It will help me be more present when I'm with her. More appreciative of our time together. More patient and loving and consistent with her because I won't be burned out, bored or resentful. More giving to Fabulous Husband. More treats for Sweet Dog. More proud liberals, loud feminists and Dennis Kucinich runs the world (Oops, sorry, wrong fantasy.)
I admit that what will get me through tomorrow is my new mantra: "We can always back out".
I watched that Oprah program on working vs. stay-at-home moms last week. It was a fairly typical presentation of this tired "battle". But I have a soft spot for "Dr. Robin" (Seriously? Can we not know your last name?) who said something that I've been mulling over: As parents, we want so desperately for our kids not to ache, but life is full of hurt so what we should really be working towards is helping our kids know what to do for themselves when they DO ache.
I know I can't shelter Z forever. I want to help her be independent and strong and resilient. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to let go this much yet.
We are doing a long, protracted transition to Z being in day care on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, all day, without me. Last week, we spent about an hour and a half there on each of our days, playing with the toys, meeting the "teachers" and kids, and getting used to the surroundings. This week, I'm supposed to leave her there for longer and longer intervals on each of those days. Next week, even longer intervals. We are very lucky that they are allowing us to do this so slowly, especially since we aren't officially paying for it until September 1st.
I wish I felt lucky.
I can't get over this sickening feeling that this whole thing is just so WRONG. She will experience things that I won't know about. She will see something and sign it's name and people may not notice or understand. She might be bullied or bitten or fall down. She will be on her own and I will have no control over what happens to her. She will be sad and need comfort and miss her Mommy.
(deep breath)
I CAN imagine the best case scenario actually happening so I'm going to focus on it and hope that it comes true. She is happy there and learns to nap there (I will take the leap of faith). She plays and learns and loves it so much she cries when we leave. I am fulfilled at work, have some time to myself after work where I can work out or run errands or talk on the phone without murmuring the inevitable "Yes, Z I'll get that for you in a minute!" and "Oh sweetheart, did you fall down?" every two seconds. It will help me be more present when I'm with her. More appreciative of our time together. More patient and loving and consistent with her because I won't be burned out, bored or resentful. More giving to Fabulous Husband. More treats for Sweet Dog. More proud liberals, loud feminists and Dennis Kucinich runs the world (Oops, sorry, wrong fantasy.)
I admit that what will get me through tomorrow is my new mantra: "We can always back out".
I watched that Oprah program on working vs. stay-at-home moms last week. It was a fairly typical presentation of this tired "battle". But I have a soft spot for "Dr. Robin" (Seriously? Can we not know your last name?) who said something that I've been mulling over: As parents, we want so desperately for our kids not to ache, but life is full of hurt so what we should really be working towards is helping our kids know what to do for themselves when they DO ache.
I know I can't shelter Z forever. I want to help her be independent and strong and resilient. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to let go this much yet.