New Midlife Mommy

And We're Still Holding

(Amazing!  I lost an entire post by pressing "publish now."  WTF?)

I started the week thinking that our transfer would be scheduled for next Friday, Saturday, Sunday or Monday.  I was hoping for either Friday or Monday, so that DD would be in school.  Otherwise, DH will have to wait in the lobby with DH rather than sit in the room with me during the transfer.  And, we wouldn't be able to have a nice - quiet! - lunch together, as is our after transfer tradition, since they don't serve chicken fingers at the restaurant that we go to.  But, it's all dependent on biology, so there isn't anything we can do it.

But, I received a call today telling me that the donor's levels weren't where they wanted them to be, and they were going to up her stims.  Not a problem, though, because what's an EXTRA TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS in drugs among friends?  It wasn't totally unexpected, I guess.  The donor is 31, and sometimes, you just need a little more to get where you want to go.  I remember using a lot of Follistim when I was taking injections, and when I did IVF with my own eggs.  It's not super news, because you always hope that the donor will be very responsive to the standard course.  No one is sounding the alarm though.  All of her pre-donation tests were good, so I'm not going to worry.

I guess this might put things off a bit.  My lining check is tomorrow, and I was hoping to go from six tablets of (evil!) Estrace to two tablets, but that's not to be.  I had to order more of it, and it's due to arrive tomorrow.

On another note, we let our last amphibian go tonight.  I think that this was the little guy who spent some time in our toilet, because he was the least developed.  I hope that all the frogs and toads do well (and may they dine well on all of the mosquitoes!), but I have to admit wondering about the intelligence of this years' crop of toads.  I noticed that there were what seemed like more than a hundred dead toads in our makeshift pond in the pool cover when we were catching the tadpoles for our Planet Frog habitat.  At first, I thought that they drowned because they were unable to navigate their way out of the water due to our new, more slippery pool cover.  Now, I'm not so sure.  When tadpoles sprout front legs, they usually head for land because their bodies need air.  These boneheads needed to be nudged out of the water, even in an environment that was especially designed to raise tadpoles into frogs.  Not sure, but these might be candidates for the Darwin awards.  Hopefully, next years' group will be a little brighter.

We also had our first butterfly emerge from its cocoon today.  I think these butterflies are called "Painted Ladies."  It's beautiful, but I really wish that DD had seen it break free.  We still have four left, so hopefully, we'll get lucky.

As if you haven't gathered by now, I'm fascinated by biology and natural science, even though my career has taken me off in an entirely different direction.  I hope that it's contagious.  I really want DD to appreciate the world around her, to be a good steward, and to respect and honor life of all kinds.  And, I hope that even if she doesn't share my fascination with creatures great and small, at least she'll look back with a smile at the memory of her old mother hovering over the swimming pool with a fishnet, trying to catch "the very best ones."

Have a good 4th of July.

The Holding Pattern Continues

Ugh.  Six tablets of Estrace a day.  I've gone from "hey, I don't need to air dry my jeans any longer, because they kind of feel loose" to "holy cow, these jeans are feeling tight again."  Sucks, along with that icky my-period-feels-like-it's-going-to-start aching, which I just hate. 

No word yet on where the donor is in her cycle.  Once I get the call, I'll need to come in for a lining check, and it should be about six days until transfer thereafter.  That kind of works out, because the acupuncturist starts her vacation in a couple of days.  She'll be back on July 7, so she should be available on transfer day.  That's a bonus, because I really didn't want a referral to someone that I don't know.  Acupuncture is weird enough, thankyouverymuch.

So, just filling in my time.  DD "graduated" from pre-K not too long ago.  It was very cute.  They all had real caps, gowns, and tassels, and they did a half-hour program that they have been working on for months.  It was very cute.  And I didn't cry - at least during the program.  Not even when my little girl stood up, with a microphone, and said "hello, my name is DD, and what I like most about pre-K is the teacher, and I'd like to be a veterinarian when I grow up.  Next in program is B [the next child who was to speak]."  DD was one of about three kids who had perfect poise when speaking to what was a very large group of parents, grandparents, and friends, many of whom she'd never seen before. 

I have to admit, I was envious.  My job has forced me into a lot of public speaking (the old career and the new one), and I just hate it.  I have never gotten past the initial butterflies in my stomach.  I remember my Dale Carnegie instructor saying that they can't get rid of the butterflies, but at least they can make them fly in formation.  Not much of a comfort.  I would prefer taking an AK-45 to those effing butterflies, KWIM?

DD also seems to get delightfully charged up when she finds herself in front of a room full of strangers.  You can see it in her face - she's so happy to be there.  Unlike me.  When I was in elementary school, I sang a lot of solos.  (Before all those years of smoking, I had a wonderful voice.  I guess the daily practice didn't hurt either.)  When I came out of the shadows and found myself in front of a sea of faces, it seemed to suck the air right out of my lungs.  My mother used to tell me to look above their heads at the back wall, and if I had to look right at them, to imagine that they were all in their underwear.  Or perhaps their long red underwear.  It helped, but not much.  I hope and pray that DD takes all that poise and energy that she feels and carries it with her when she grows up. 

My latest time-sucking activity has moved from ancestry.com to scanning my mother's photos.  It's sort of related, because when I find a link, I make sure to log it into the family tree.  Mostly, though, I'm not finding links, because neither she nor my grandmother took the time to mark all the photos.  They did mark a lot, and it's enough that I've learned to identify people who are long gone from this earth.  But I need at least one identified photo to be able to do that.  Right now, I'm missing a great uncle and my great grandmothers, even though I'll wager that I've passed over them many times trying to figure out who they are.  So, I'm obsessively scanning with my wonderful new scanner, and I plan to get copies of the people I can't identify to my mother's three remaining first cousins.  I hope they can help.  (There were four, but my father just told me that one of the cousins has gone blind.  Sad.)  One of the cousins was never very friendly to my dad, and I hardly know her, but hopefully she will help with a promise that I will have photos made of whatever she wants.  I planned on sending a stack of photos printed on paper with a return envelope, because everyone is so far away. 

But even doing that, I will still have many photos from the generation before that I will never be able to identify.  And I so want to.  Sad to think that these photos will be passed down in boxes without ever having a name to match to the face.  My advice of the day is to sit down with your parents and grandparents, if you're lucky enough to have them still, and make them identify the family photos.  And those stories about distant relatives that you've never met that they seem to repeat over and over and over so that you no longer listen?  Start listening.  Write it down.  I promise, you will not be sorry.  (And DH, I know you're reading - you are also the keeper of your family photos, so it's time to start organizing for DD's sake.  I certainly don't know who any of those people are!)

And lastly, a tadpole update.  I ended up rescuing the tadpole, but I had to trap the little sh*t using my hand.  Yuck.  So, my father was able to use the downstairs bathroom when he stayed with us on Saturday.  A good ending, I guess.  And, after lots of antibacterial soap and hand sanitizer, I was as good as new.  Just trying to erase the memory now.

The things we do for love, eh?

A Question Of Etiquette

Our frog project is coming along swimmingly now. We have four toad tadpoles, and six frog tadpoles. From the looks of things, the frog tadpoles will be departing soon. One of them even spends a lot of time on land. Fortunately, this project is finally working out as I envisioned - a little biology project for DD.

I did get the hang of the feeding issue. They just wanted the "small fry" food. And Planet Frog makes water changing easy for (lazy) me. There are air holes in the sides, and I just tip the whole thing over the commode so that most of the water comes out the air holes and fill it up with more bottled water when I'm through (yes, they require bottled water, spoiled little things). It doesn't clean out all of the, er, sediment from the bottom, but it does get most of it. Before that, I was trying to catch the little buggers, put them in a cup filled with bottled water, catch them all, dump and rinse everything, and then put everything back. Very annoying, and frankly, I worried about hurting the tadpoles with the net. They are pretty skittish.

Yes, I was patting myself on the back for figuring out that water changing thing. And then I did a tadpole count. Hmmm . . . one of the toad tadpoles missing. They are small - their heads are probably about the size of two flattened peppercorns. But they are too big for the holes. I couldn't figure out the where the heck the thing had gone - until I looked in the commode. And there it was, swimming around as content as can be. Unfortunately, DD saw it too.

Now, my daughter is all about the earth and saving all living things, and she has instituted a catch and release program for us. Should an ant (or any other invader) wander into the house, we must go to great lengths to capture it and makes sure that it gets safely home outside (where the little sh*t can try to come back into house, I'm sure). DD will lecture her little friends if they try to hurt a little bug during recess, because their home is "all the earth," and we are the guests. No one must harm any living thing. Actually, I think that is a fine perspective, though when one of the little buggers comes into my home, I consider it a trespasser and have my own "tough luck" program. Just not in front of DD.

So, against this backdrop, we have been trying to coax the little effer out of the back of hidden area of the bottom of the commode so that we can catch it. Fortunately, we have another bathroom in the house. The problem is that if he does come out, and we try to catch him with a net, he goes back to the hidden area. And the bowl is round, and our net is square, so this has been quite the struggle. I've even tried to backfill the hidden area with TP to block him from going back there as he comes to the front of his makeshift pond, but no luck yet. (Yes, I do have a full life, don't I?)

So here's the etiquette question for the day - how long do I wait to flush?

Good News/Bad News

Good news:  DD officially learned to tie her shoes today.  This accomplishment followed practicing with a shoelace tying book that I bought to help her learn, as well as spending time with her and trying over and over and over.  She had mastered the "first tie," and we were working on learning how to do the rest.  "Make a bunny ear!"  "Put a collar on it!"  "Push the other ear through!"  "Great job!"

Bad news:  DD gives full credit to Miss T.  Who just started working with her today.  When asked who else might have contributed to this goal, DD said "Miss B"!  Miss B is the secondary teacher.  Mommy didn't even get an honorable mention.  No wonder I feel so unappreciated sometimes.

Good news:  The donor and I are on our transfer cycle.  Woot!

Bad news:  I start f*cking Estrace tomorrow.  Evil, evil Estrace.  I have to build up to three tablets, twice a day (major weight gain to get there).  And then I get to "hold" at six tablets a day until the donor catches up.  Hate that part.  HATE IT.

Good news:  DD is a reading fool.  Seriously.  She is on fire with all the reading.

Bad news:  DH and I are going to have to practice our Pig Latin, because DD can spell too - so no more talking about her in front of her!

Good news:  I still have a job.

Bad news:  I'm not sure for how long.  There will be a 10% staffing cut, and I'm not sure where.  Those of us who stay are going to be asked to take a combination of furlough days and a reduction in pay to equal a 10% overall cut in pay.  Absent that, another 10% will be laid off.  Good times!  Though honestly, since I'm still spending Sunday afternoons at my father's house going through my mom's things (the never ending project), it would be kind of nice to have some time off, even if it is only one day a month, and even if it is unpaid.  I would gladly take a 10% loss to avoid a 100% loss.  I don't even have to think about that one very long.

Good news:  I still have a job (I know, I already said that, but it is good news).  And my brother and I have worked out our differences.  And I still have my dad, a wonderful husband, and a beautiful daughter.  We are healthy.  We are happy.  These are all blessings, and I do appreciate them.

And I think I'll end on that note.

Planet Frog

When I was a child, one of the best things about summer was being able to spend several weeks with my grandparents (and away from my brother - yes!).  I had cousins who were close in age who were always up for an adventure.  We picked berries, went on adventures in the woods, and did a lot of fishing.  It was lazy, warm, and wonderful.  And very safe.  Even though the houses were spaced quite far apart (it was out in the country), there was always a watchful eye somewhere.  Child predators were unheard of.  So, we were free to explore to our heart's content.

One of my local, older cousins had tried to build a small pond on his (adjoining) property so that he could fish, but it was a bust, at least for his purposes.  It was wonderful for kid purposes, because abandoned and unattended, it turned into a small swamp, accompanied by cat tails, a few garden snakes, and lots and lots of tadpoles (or polywogs, as we used to call them).  I used to love to catch them and let them go, and it was even more fun to catch the bigger frogs that used to hang around.  I would bring one or two back to the house and keep them in a coffee can for a short while before letting them go.  Once, I remember finding a ball of eggs.  I talked my parents into letting me take them home and keeping them in an aquarium.  We watched and watched, and one day, we had what seemed like thousands of tadpoles - a small miracle.  (Unfortunately, I don't remember any of them growing up.) 

With those fond memories in mind, I bought one of those overpriced contraptions for raising tadpoles into frogs.  I have always loved science and biology, and this is a fun thing to share with DD.  The kit comes with a coupon that you can send in, and for a minimal amount of postage, you can be the proud owner of a tadpole or two.

Except that we have a pool cover that doubles as a science experiment.  Summer has been a little late in coming, and when DH called to make arrangements to open the pool he didn't get a date until this Friday.  So, we have tons and tons of tadpoles!  Who needs a coupon?

Actually, I think what we had were toad tadpoles.  I caught thirteen of them and thought that we would have so much fun watching them morph into adults.  How educational!  (She pats herself on the back.)  Except they began dying, and soon, there were only five left.  We tried changing the water more frequently, and we bought additional food, hoping that each change would do the trick.  Apparently, the tadpoles didn't like the giant chunks of food that were made for frogs and tadpoles.  And I'm not sure that they like the baby fish fish food either, though they did stop dying.

Or maybe it was just a problem with the toad tadpoles.  A couple of days ago, when we looked into our makeshift pond again, it appears that most of the toad tadpoles have either grown up and died or have managed to escape and have been replaced by the more traditional frog tadpoles that I remember.  Tonight, DD and I spent a fun evening catching the larger, faster frog tadpoles from our pseudo pond.  And, we rescued some toad tadpoles that had almost lost their tails and put them into our science experiment, thinking that maybe our new pool cover is too slippery for many of them to get out.  We'll watch them grow for a couple of days and then release them as soon as their tails completely disappear.  So, DD is getting at least a little bit of education throughout all of this.

I have confessed to being a bit of a germophobe in the past.  I don't stay away from things because of germs, but I do make sure that I avoid touching my eyes, nose, and mouth when I'm around nasty things (or sick people).  I've tried to instill this in DD as well.  Tonight was no different.  We found several little toads near the pool, and I showed her how to catch them, gently pick them up, watch them in a cupped hand, and release them into a grassy area so they would be safe.  She practiced trying to catch tadpoles with the net, and I know that she managed to get her hands in the very yucky, gross swamp water inside our pool cover.  I reminded her a couple of times about not touching her mouth especially, because the water was so dirty.  "Yes, mommy.  I remember.  I won't!"

But, stupid me.  As we were wrapping up for the night, DD went over to the table where our leftover dinner was.  And, before I could stop her, she shoved some shredded cheese into her mouth.  That she picked up with her hands.  The germ-infested hands that were in the germ-infested water.  Oy.  Visions of typhoid, salmonella, parasites and other joyous things have been dancing through my head ever since.  I've been trying to block it out, and I know that I'm just being overprotective and paranoid.  I'm sure, during those long summer days, I wasn't all that diligent about washing my hands after coming in from the frog pond at grandma's house.  And I'm none the worse for the wear.  But still.  Yuck.

Hopefully, that butterfly garden that I ordered will be safer.  Live and learn, right?

Starting Lupron on Sunday

I think that this pretty much describes the feeling . . . 

An Angel, She Is Not (Sometimes Anyway)

The day before yesterday, I picked DD up from school, as usual.  I know that this will change as she gets older, but for now, whenever she does something wrong, she runs right up to me and starts confessing.  Sort of.  She's a spinner, always trying to put things in the best light.  In part, this is because she knows that I can see when she's had a color change to indicate that she'd not had the best of days.  I know that she believes that I look every day, but I very often forget, just because she doesn't usually get in trouble.  We have been very fortunate in that regard.  DD is high spirited, and very active, but she also tries to be a friend and a helper to most of the other kids and her teachers.

Not so on Monday.  But all I could get out of her was that she'd actually been doing quite a good job of cleaning up, and the teacher just didn't understand for some reason.  (The teacher's note on the daily sheet said that she'd told DD several times to stop playing in one area and start participating in some other activity.)  And then there was a little incident involving another little girl, H.  I wasn't quite getting the story from DD, but the daily sheet advised us that DD had whacked H in the face - near the eye - on purpose.  Ahem.  Sounds like deja vu, all over again.  Except with DD in the wrongdoer role.

On the way home, still trying to pull the story out of her, I asked DD how what she'd done to H was different than what L had done to her a couple of weeks ago.  She immediately said that A had suggested that L throw the dinosaur at her, but no one told her to hit H.  She was quite pleased with this comparison, until I suggested that whacking someone all on your own was worse.

We gave DD a choice when we got home.  She was going to be punished for deliberately hitting another child.  But, she needed to tell us what happened.  If she didn't, she would receive a second punishment.  And, if she decided to tell us what happened, but we later learned that she lied about things, she would receive a third punishment.  In the end, DD received one punishment, which for us involves taking something away that she values quite a bit. 

So, without further adieu, I give you the incident between DD and H on Monday, embellished with the detail that we'd learned from her teacher.

(Scene:  Circle time.  Children taking turns reading each word contained in their packages of sight words.  As the curtain rises, it's H's turn.  DD is sitting next to her.)

H:  The word is "go."

DD:  (snottily, I'm sure).  It is not!  The word is "good."  (waves packages of word cards in H's face.)

H:  "Go!"

DD:  NNNNNNNNOOOOOO.    "Good!"

{{{{{{{{ WHACK! }}}}}}}}

To her credit(?), I understand that the word actually was "good."  And while I've often imagined doing what DD did in practice to people at work (and ironically, I was probably in a meeting at the same time DD was in circle time, wishing I actually could whack someone from across the table for being dumber than a box of rocks), we need to work on controlling our feelings of self-righteousness a bit. 

I sent an e-mail to the mom on Monday night, apologizing for what DD had done.  That was one of the things that really, really irritated me about L's parents.  They never acknowledged that there were other people who were affected by their son's behavior.  It's not fun to do it, but it must be done.  DD needed to apologize face-to-face, which I understand she readily did, but we also needed to let the other parents know that we knew our daughter had wronged their child, and to tell the other parents that we too were sorry. 

H's mom was very gracious, not believing that DD ever could have done anything on purpose, adding that H was not injured in the least.  I replied and told her that at that point we didn't know the whole story, but we were fairly certain that DD had done the deed deliberately, or at least recklessly.

So, that's that.  DD's punishment will extend into next week (loss of a big privilege for her).  H's birthday party is coming up, and I told DD that if I were H, I might cordially un-invite her for being so mean.  This shocked DD, because she apparently believed that once a birthday invitation goes out, it is an irrevocable agreement of sorts.  DH said that the next morning, while he was getting the facts from DD's teacher, DD sought H out, hugged her, apologized again, and casually asked whether she was still invited to the party.  With a big sigh of relief, DD ran over to DH and told him that the party was still on.

So, drama over.  And we really need to work with DD on the self-righteousness issue.  One of the advantages of using donor eggs is that I can smugly think to myself that if it has anything to do with her genes, it didn't come from me.

Wait a minute . . .  Smug.  Self-righteous.  Ahem.  Probably environmental, eh?

This And That

A little more drama:

DD told us that L swung a tennis racket around the hallway a couple of days ago and almost hit a teacher.  She told us that the teacher was Ms. G, but we learned that Ms. G wasn't involved at all.  So, I question the veracity of her report.  Nonetheless, we did ask about it, and we learned that there was a tennis racket incident, that L was swinging it around, but the teacher who was present thought it was risky but not malevolent behavior.  L received a color change because he was doing something he shouldn't have, and he didn't stop when he was told.  L was supposed to be moved as of today, but we just learned that the director did not sit down with his parents until yesterday.  I do think that her personal experiences are coloring her approach to this problem, but there was an agreement to transition L back to the preschool room by June 3.  He and his family will go on vacation beginning on June 4, and he will be in preschool full time after that.  They have promised to keep a close eye on him, and I believe that they will.  On the bright side, his mom told the director that she didn't blame "the other family" (i.e., us, as if she didn't know) for this outcome.  I do hope that it works out for everyone.

DE cycle update:

I start Lupron the Monday after next, maybe.  I need to call the coordinator and see how the donor is doing.  Otherwise, just biding my time, enjoying the wine while I can.  This is a pill month, so my weight loss (which only amount to four measly pounds) has stopped.  Sigh.

Something to share:

I've mentioned that I spend Sunday afternoons at my father's house, going through my mother's things.  I've been doing this since October 2007.  It would be nice to be finished by fall.  (Hope springs eternal.)  One of the things that I've loved is that my mother saved everything, so there are many treasures to be found.  A treasure to me is often found in a little scrap of paper that gives a factoid about our heritage.  And I am now the keeper of the slides, films and photos. After much research, I've ordered a scanner to get them all into the computer.

Anyway.  I've always known that my mom was very creative.  She wasn't much for needle work (that's my forte).  But, she enjoyed china painting, ceramics, and canvas painting.  I've also found a couple of quilts that she'd started.  I don't know anything about quilting, but our best man's wife does.  And she did a beautiful job finishing one of the quilts my mom made.  I haven't photographed it yet, but it's wonderful.  And she's working on another one that needs just a little bit of work.  Finding these two quilts meant digging through bags and bags and bags of scrap fabric that I ended up giving away to DD's school.  It was just too much.  My mom would cut and cut and cut (oy, was she good at the cutting), but I've yet to find a finished quilt.

But the things that she did finish . . . just rock.  Here are some (and please forgive the bad photography; i-Phones should really come with a flash):

Paintings hanging in my bathroom:

Some china painting, hanging in my alcove:

And a little blue bird (robin?) to brighten my day in the den:

I know that she wasn't a great artist, but dang, they are pretty, aren't they?  Especially the china painting.  Some of the stuff that she did just takes my breath away.

Thank you mom, for leaving such beautiful pieces of yourself behind for us to treasure.

Drama Over

We met with the director and assistant director this morning, after our respective appointments.  (And damn it, I need to go back on Tuesday for a "culture."  I hate those pants off appointments.)

DH said that L's mom had put something in DD's cubby that morning.  She has beautiful printing (I wonder if she's a teacher - none of us know, because she refuses to talk to any of the other mothers, which makes the L situation even harder to deal with).  She'd written across the top of the paper, "DD I am sorry."  Then, she made trace letters (with way more dots than I ever did when I was making trace letters), repeating the phrase six times, and it appeared that L had done the tracing.  It was "signed" by L, or at least I think it was.  That kind of made me feel a little sad, but while I had no doubt at all that L's mommy was sorry, I really didn't believe that L was all that sorry. 

It was a pretty low key meeting.  The director said that she wanted to clear the air about something.  She said that there was a discrepancy between what she'd told us by e-mail, and what the teacher noticed.  DD did cry when it happened, but when DD and L came down to the office to talk about what had happened, DD wasn't crying.  And L did apologize, but only when the director asked.  He wouldn't apologize for the teacher.  Whatever.  I wasn't going to point any of that out, because it wasn't cross examination, but it was nice that she'd noticed and wanted to set things straight.

DH started out talking calmly, which helped.  I explained that we were not there simply because a child had thrown a toy at DD, because honestly, if it had been any other child, we would have counted our blessings that it had missed her eye and moved on.  And, I acknowledged that DD has her moments, recalling that last fall she'd put her hands around another child's neck, and on that same day, she'd kicked a child in the head.  Neither child was badly injured, but DD got in so much trouble that she never, ever did it again.  We talked about how privilege withdrawal works with kids like DD, but apparently, it was not working with L, because L was always talking about the privileges that he'd lost, and I'd heard his mother drill him several times about all of the things that would be taken away because of this or that transgression.  So there must be something else going on, especially since L's sister is really a great kid.  I said that if it were my kid, I would take him to our pediatrician to find out what else is going on.  But it's not my kid, and they aren't our decisions.  We were there because our kid could have been seriously injured by a child who can't seem to control his actions.  And that was not acceptable.

The director told us that she has a son, just like L.  And he acted out, just like L.  And she did take him to the doctor, and they learned that it was a chemical imbalance.  He's taking medication now, and it has really helped.  She got a little misty and said that her son was a really good kid, but it was hard for people to see past his awful behavior.  And L was like that as well.  She said that she wished we could see how L was genuinely sorry inside after he acts out.  Frankly, that explained a lot about all of the second chances that L has been given.  And, I have no doubt that the director has shared this experience with L's mom, but she's just not ready to listen.  This really is more than normal boy antics.  I'm not sure that he can help it, which makes it all the more cruel to constantly take privileges away.

The director asked what we wanted, and as we'd previously agreed, DH said that we wanted L out of the classroom.  We told her that we had no objection if she wanted to move him to another classroom if she thought that would be best for everyone involved, but we just didn't want him around our daughter.  The director looked slightly relieved, I think.  She said that she would need to talk with her district manager, because she'd not had a request like that before.  She asked for two weeks; DH thought one was fair.  Frankly, before DH made the 15 minute trip back to his office, the district manager had already called him.  And when he called back, he learned that they'd made the decision to transfer L. 

One of the other mommies asked me to call her today after our meeting with the director, and I filled her in on what had happened.  This mommy has a child in preschool, and in DD's pre-K class.  And, even though L will be going to be in the same room as her other child, she thought that it might really help L.  But, I know that she will be keyed into whatever happens in the room, and that she won't put up with L if it doesn't seem to be working.  So, good news all around.

We waited to talk with DD tonight while we were eating.  We really, really didn't want DD to think that it would be OK to gloat, or to be hurtful toward L.  DD had seen us at the school, so we told her that we had a chance to talk with Ms. K about what had happened, that she'd talked with L and his mommy, and that everyone agreed that L should be given a chance to be with some old friends in preschool.  DD was relieved.

I hope that it works out well for him.  But most of all, I hope that he gets some help.  I do not believe that every child with problems needs medication.  Most probably don't, but some genuinely do.  L may be one of them.

Birthday Plans Revisited

I am beyond p*ssed at the moment.

I received a very nonchalant e-mail at work from the school director yesterday.  She just wanted me to let me know that DD had a minor incident that morning.  "Another child" had thrown a toy at DD.  (You know, it's always "another child," as if it is a state secret that you aren't ever going to find out about.  As soon as kids are able to point, they will identify the perpetrator.  At least DD always has been able to do so.  And not just her partners in crime.  It's been great to catch up on the pre-K gossip at dinner time.)

Going back to the e-mail.  Another child had thrown a toy at DD, it had hit her on the cheek, under her eye.  But, nothing to worry about!  It was just a small cut.  Why, DD hadn't even cried, the children had hugged and made up, and DD was diligently holding some ice to her cheek.  She was going to be just fine.  No need to come.  No need to worry.

I e-mailed her back, saying that I hoped it wasn't L, because there had been some physical issues with him lately.  (You remember L?  The one that we were contemplating not inviting to the birthday party.  Yes, THAT child.)  But, I added, not to worry, I would certainly find out who the other child was later on.  And, while I was very surprised that DD hadn't cried, I wasn't surprised at all that she was being very good about holding ice on her cheek.  DD is all about the ice.  For everything.  Did you know that it is even good for a hang nail?  But I digress. 

Last week DD mentioned that L had bonked her in the nose, but it sounded like he was trying to beep everyone's nose, kind of like someone would do with a clown nose.  It wasn't exactly clear.  DD was annoyed by it, but she hadn't been hurt, so I'd forgotten about it.  We've heard about a number of incidents involving him, but to the best of my knowledge, no one had been injured.

After the e-mail, I really wasn't upset.  I just figured that it was the usual stuff that happens when kids get together, and I was glad that there were no tears and just a small cut on the cheek.

When I got to school, no one was in the front office, though I was supposed to sign for an incident report.  DD came running down the hall toward me, and I took one look at her and hit the roof.  She had a small cut on her face all right.  But it wasn't anywhere her cheek.  Unless of course you count three millimeters from the bottom of her eye as her cheek. 

DD took me back to her room.  We went to the cubby, where the report was taped, and guess who was right behind us?  No surprise at all.  L, his mother, and the assistant director, who were having quite the chat at one of the small tables.  DD brought the toy over to me so that I could see what hit her.  And the missile was a stegosaurus, which has a row of triangle shaped spines along its back.  The toy was just a toy, fit for four year olds.  But launched at someone's eye by an incorrigible brat?  It could have blinded her.  She explained what happened, and who did it.

I wanted nothing more than to interrupt the conversation behind me, which was going something like this: 

L's mommy, all sweetness and light:  Now, L, your teacher said that something happened today.  But you haven't told me anything about it.

L:  Nothing happened!

L's mommy:  Well I just overheard that little girl telling her mommy what happened.

L:  I don't know.

I stopped listening.  I did not interrupt.  We walked out of the room, because I really wasn't doing a good job stifling my anger, but not before giving the stink eye to the assistant director several times.  I ran into one of my favorite other mommies on the way out, and I did say something to her about the little a**hole having done it again, and take a look at DD's eye, and this sh*t was going to stop.  Really effing stop.  (The other mommy had complained about L before, and had witnessed his mother having to physically remove him from the room during an out of control moment.  Mind you, I know that every kid throws things.  Every kid has out of control moments.  But this is not every kid.  He does this all the time.)

By the time we got out of the center, L and his mommy had finished their conversation and were behind us.  She didn't say a f*cking word, though she knew exactly what had happened because she wasn't two feet away when DD explained it.  She did tell L, who had inquired about someone's party, that he wouldn't be going.  Why?  Because he'd had a color change that day.  Yes, only a color change (each child starts on green, and moves to yellow, then blue, and then red, depending on the number and depth of their transgressions for the day).  Because color changes are what we do there!  That, and give and take away stickers.  Not that he would not be losing his chance to go to a party because he almost blinded my daughter.  He was just being punished for the color change.

I don't know if she heard me tell DD we were going to photograph her eye as I got out of my car after buckling DD in.  I'm sure she did.  She likely saw me slam my car doors, almost off the hinges.  She probably heard me tell DD that this wasn't going to happen again.  She wasn't around to hear my non-stop rant when I got home.  (You know, one thing that DH doesn't "get" about me is my need to do that, to be irrationally angry, and to vent it out.  During which time I explain how I want the wrong remedied, which may or may not include water boarding.  No, just kidding.  Sort of.  OTOH, he's not like that at all and finds that whole process quite strange.  But it's a necessary process for me.)

Later, when DD and I were snuggling shortly before bedtime, she told me a little bit more about what had happened.  Apparently, A told L that he should throw the toy at DD.  That was a little surprising.  DD has known A since they were both six months old.  I honestly think that they are the only two left from the original group in the infant room.  DD and A play together a lot, and DD will always count A among her friends.  He does get into trouble from time to time, and he usually moves through the color changes all the way to red about once a month.  A is just a typical boy though.  He's not out of control like L is.  (Seriously, L needs intervention which might involve drugs or at a minimum, a behaviorist.  He is NOT a typical boy, by any stretch of the imagination.)

DD said that L took A up on his suggestion and threw the toy at her.  It hurt.  Quite a bit.  The teacher came over and told him that he could have taken out DD's eye.  He apparently told her that A told him to do it.  And that prompted a whole discussion about not listening to people when they tell you to do the wrong thing.  There was no apology from L, as we had been told.  There were no hugs.  He is no different than his mother.  The misbehavior is everyone else's problem.  DD did say that L says that he often loses television or chocolate milk when he behaves badly at school.  That kind of stuff works for a kid like DD (who by the way has lost candy for the day today because she didn't follow a rule last night).  But it doesn't work for kids like L.

Anyway, the long and short of it is that DH and I are going to visit the school tomorrow morning to talk with the director.  DH has a dentist appointment, and I have an appointment with the RE (blood, ultrasound, and paperwork, paperwork, paperwork).  We want L moved to another room, which would be suitable for his age (he's the kid whose mother thinks that he's so bright that he needs to be in a room with all the older kids).  Alternatively, he should be dismissed from the school.  If the director doesn't want to do those things, we are going to talk with the district director.  If neither one of them want to do those things, then we are going to advise them that they should understand that we will take legal action against the school, and L's parents, if DD is injured again.  End of story. 

Oh, and they won't be coming to the DD's birthday party.  Not L.  Not his sister (unfortunately).  And not his parents.