New Midlife Mommy

Eh (Can't Think Of A Title)

Two burning questions:

Why do I always feel like I have to go to the bathroom the instant I step into the shower, even if I've just gone minutes before?

Why can I part my hair and think that it's just fine, look away for a moment, and OMG, see a totally f'd up part?

Two recent DDisms:

"Mommy, you just don't understand how my brain works. I know, just by looking at something, that I'm not going to like it. So you can stop asking me to try new foods, OK?"

DD recently advised us that when she's a teenager, she will be queen of the house and will be telling us what to do (apparently, she's dissatisfied with the current arrangement). Dream on, sister.

And an update:

Evil, evil Estrace.  Need I say more?  Feel like I'm too fat to breathe.  Taking six tablets a day.  Ugh.

Transfer on Monday, 10/19.  At least I hope and pray there is a transfer on Monday.  Can't help but think what happened the last time I had five frozen embryos.  If you are the praying type, please say one for us. 

Life Lessons

I remember my mother telling me, as I was sniffing my little baby's head, that letting your child go is one of the hardest things a mother will ever do.  Watching them go off to school, starting a life that includes more time with others than with you, and knowing that there will be heartache and hard life lessons.  Yet, there is nothing that you can do to protect that child from those hurts, because she needs to find her own way. 

My mother often said things like this during the last couple years of her life.  She knew that she didn't have much time to be with us, and she tried to squeeze in enough mothering advice to last a lifetime.  I have a good memory, and all those comments have been filed away.  They always seem to come back to me when I need them.

It's so much harder to get a glimpse into day to day school life now.  School starts at 9:00 and ends at 3:00.  Aftercare lasts until 6:00, and I usually only see the aftercare ladies when I pick DD up at the end of the day (DH does the drop off).  There are no daily reports to fill in the blanks.  Good, bad, or indifferent, we just don't know what's going on, though presumably, if there were issues, we would know about them.  But, since I know that DD has a soft spot for snuggling (so do I!), I've made a deal with her -- I will snuggle with her at bedtime as long as she talks about school.  No matter how mundane, I'm all ears. 

I've learned that there is a girl, "I", who sounds like a little snot, based on what DD has been telling me in the evenings.  DD pointed out a girl to me when we were out on an errand and said, "look mommy, that girl looks just like "I"!"  Based on that, I can tell you that she's pretty, with long blond hair and blue eyes.  This is probably unfair, but that is precisely how I imagined her.  Spoiled, pretty, and blond.

So far, based on the scraps that I've heard, "I" told DD that DD would not be invited to her birthday party, because she just wasn't on the list (the tone, imitated by DD, was snarky).  Understand that DD came from a world where generally speaking, all of the kids in the class were invited to parties, or at least all of the same gender in the class were invited to parties (depending on the theme).  It wasn't a school rule; it was just what we did.  And, had the little boy who'd caused so much trouble not been moved to another classroom before DD's birthday party, we would have invited him and crossed our fingers that he wouldn't act out at the party.

DD found "I's" comments puzzling.  I asked her why she thought "I" had said that, and she said that "I" also told everyone that she was only inviting the four year olds to her party ("I" will be 5 on her birthday).  DD thought that maybe if she hadn't told "I" that she was already 5, she would have surely been invited to the party.  I probed a bit and asked if she really thought that was the reason.  DD wasn't sure.  I asked if she and "I" were friends, and she said that they weren't -- "but mommy, if she just got to know me, I'm sure she would like me."  Pure, sweet, simple heart.  I told her that maybe that was true, but she needed to understand that not everyone in the world will like her, and that was OK, just as it was OK for DD not to like everyone she meets.  DD seemed convinced that "I" would like her eventually.

Since then, a couple things have happened, though there may be more things that I don't know about.  DD and another girl were talking to each other, and "I" said that she was going to tell the teacher that they were being mean to her (DD denied this and said that they weren't even talking to "I").  "I" did as promised, and the teacher came over and told DD and her friend that they shouldn't be mean to others.  Undaunted, and finding herself in line behind "I" on another day, DD complimented her hair ribbon.  To her credit, "I" said thanks. 

This evening, DD told me that when she sat down next to "I" today, "I" deliberately got up and sat on the other side of the person she had been sitting next to before DD sat down.  It was clearly an insult. I gently suggested, again, that perhaps DD might want to ignore "I," since she seemed like a rude little girl who clearly did not want to be DD's friend.  DD responded by telling me she was tired and didn't want to talk anymore.  And my mother's words echoed back to me, counseling me to let go, let go, let go.

But then, to my surprise, DD rolled back over and said, "mommy, don't worry.  I don't let her hurt my heart."

Ah, smart cookie.  Very smart.

So What Would You Do?

I have always really liked the categories that are given by the "Safe Side" video. (I've talked about this video before, but I can't seem to quickly find the reference. It's put together by Julie Clark [Baby Einstein] and John Walsh, who lost his son Adam to a predator at six years of age.) I like the video because it puts people into three categories: safe side adults (three people that it's always safe to be with, in addition to mom and dad), don't knows (people you don't know), and kinda knows (everyone else).

There are rules for each category. You never go with a kinda know unless mom and dad say it's OK, and you must always ask. You never, ever talk with a don't know unless you are with a safe side adult. In fact, you are supposed to keep a zone of safe space between you and the don't know, and you are supposed to run away if the don't know approaches you or tries to speak with you.

So, what happens when you are at a public pool, and you see a little girl your own age, and you start talking with her, and mom who is nearby starts talking to you too? You tell her you're going to be five soon, that's what you do. Because you know that your mom and dad are both watching you.

Except - the unknown mom is a don't know, and you've just forgotten all the rules.

So, teaching moment, or just let it slide?

Updated to add: We didn't know what to do either. It was tricky, because the child started talking first. We just reminded DD about the stranger rule, made her think about how easily she fell into talk with a stranger so that she would be more aware next time, and suggested that she could always look to us for a thumbs up signal in the future. It was a tough one. Good comments though, especially about not letting someone take you to another location.

Dang, My Feet Hurt

DD had her party today at a local bounce house today.  45 minutes in one room with three giant bounce houses, 45 minutes in another room with three giant bounce houses, and then into the party room for a half an hour or so (where we can finally sit the eff down) for pizza, soft bread sticks, juice boxes, pop (for the adults), cake, ice cream, present orgy, passing out goodie bags, and it's over.  Except that we have all kinds of pizza, bread sticks, and cake left over.  (Yummy, yummy soft bread sticks.)

Things that were fun included watching the kids enjoy themselves, and making and passing out the goodie bags.  Which were princess bags filled with toys, candy, and of course dinosaur trinkets.  Accompanied by a dinosaur head on a stick that you could make move by pulling a trigger type handle.  My daughter, the eclectic.  It's fine by me.  The heck with the themes. 

Not so fun things included finding my daughter hiding behind one of the bounce houses, apparently pouting, and very irritated that I'd found her.  And then the very rude comment that she made about one present ("I already have one of those!").  Now, I know that we've discussed this before, but shame on me, I didn't go over the rules before the party.  (Can I get a pass because I was running a fever from a double ear infection and a sinus infection?  Hope so.)  But I hate rude.*  And then there was the brief crying jag in the hallway at the end of the party for some unknown reason.  And lightly smacking at a little boy at the end of the party (really lightly), but WTF?  I asked her to stop, DD said that it was just a game, and the little boy's mom said "well, let's not ever play that game anymore, OK?"  That was a bit embarrassing.  But, she's five, and after two hours of non-stop fun, following a morning of errands that were accomplished at breakneck speed with no nap (she's sort of not into naps anymore), I would say she did OK overall.

In a way, this was really kind of sad too, because this is the very last party where all of the kids from DD's school will be together.  They're five now.  They're big kids.  (And they never stop reminding you of that fact.)  The next party up on tap is a princess party, but there will only be girls and mommies invited to that one.  And then we all move on to our separate lives, I guess.  I did put a letter in  everyone's mailbox asking them if they wanted to be part of a shared address list so that the kids could keep in touch as pen pals, or we could arrange outings every so often as a large group or in smaller groups as people prefer.  Four takers on that one, including us.  Perhaps that will change as we move on into the school year, but perhaps not.  Maybe not all of us are feeling so wistful, eh?

Still no word about my job.  There have been some layoffs, and some transfers, but nothing at my level.  I wish they would just go ahead with the 10% salary cuts they've been talking about, if that is what's going to happen.  I would hope that we end up with a day off every other week in exchange.  Given that I still spend Sundays on the never-ending project that is my parent's house, it would be nice to have that time to do something around my own house.  At least my brother and I have buried the hatchet (and only partly in each other!), and we work together on Sundays.  He is much more laid back than I am.  He thinks that this is an infinite project, and it's OK to take a day off once in awhile.  I told him that only the universe is infinite, this just seems that way, and I would rather work longer to get it over with.  He usually brings my older nephew or my niece with him, and may I say what good kids these guys are turning out to be.  They never complain, they work their butts off, and they really, really respect my father and would do anything for him.  That's kind of nice to see.

We're getting ready to do another cycle, but I'm in my pill month right now.  I always see it as sort of like the intermission.  Kind of blah, and waiting for the next act.  We have five embryos remaining, and I hope that we are successful.  And, in his heart, DH equally wishes that we are not.  You can't hide your heart, I guess.  The paradox is that he's a wonderful dad, and he would love another child -- once that child is here.  It's the getting there that he would rather avoid.

Hope you are all enjoying the end of summer.  Can you believe it -- the end of summer?  Ack.  I hate winter.

* - And I'm totally irritated at the two parents who never RSVP'd, even after a reminder, and then a follow up saying that because I needed a count, I was including them because of the deadline, but if they really couldn't make it please let me know.  Ahem.  No shows.  DD is five.  They are not.

Hmm . . . Not Sure How I Feel About This One

I think that those of you who know me in real life, and those who know me through this blog, are aware that I am a big proponent of breast feeding.  When it works out for mom and child, it is a wonderful thing.  When it doesn't, it isn't that big of a deal.  I do believe that breast milk is the gold standard, but formula isn't a bad second.  I was formula fed; DD was not.  I support the American Association of Pediatric position that breast feeding should continue for one year and thereafter as long as it is mutually desirable.

But, this seems kind of weird to me.  I can honestly tell you that I didn't find it odd at all that DD had a bottle for her "babies."  And, DD, who has always loved breast milk more than anything, didn't think twice about the bottle vs. the breast for these babies -- because, um, she doesn't have breasts?  The whole breast v. bottle thing has always been something that we've talked about as a decision that she would make in the future when she actually had to feed a baby, if she even decides that babies are for her.  I honestly don't think that she was confused between playing now and doing things "for real" later.

While I appreciate the sentiment behind a this doll, it seems odd to me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.  Have you heard about it?  Any opinions?

Sometimes, She Makes Me Proud

Oh, heck.  Most times, she makes me proud.

I love my daughter's school.  Yes, it is a traditional daycare, and DD has been there since she's been six months old.  I used to think that daycare was evil, and I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, just like my mom.  Or at least I thought DD should have a stay-at-home dad, because I thought those early childhood years were so precious that they should be filled with lots of one-on-one time with a parent.

But, life steps in sometimes, as does reality.  Things like groceries and health insurance take priorities.  So, I cried a bit and sent her off to the germ-laden centers.

You know, it worked out so much better.  DD has been attending a center that is part of a large commercial chain, but it is filled with loving people.  They treat it like a school, they call the weekly payments tuition, and they work very hard with the children to provide an enriching environment.  (Too hard, sometimes, I think.  I'm not so sure that eight month old babies appreciate growing those individual bean plants stuck to the windows, but what do I know?).

My daughter starts regular school next month.  The real deal.  Kindergarten.  Her baby years are really over, and that is such a turning point for me.  I love the little girl that she's becoming; I miss my baby.  I love that she can get dressed and do things on her own, but I miss doing everything for her.  I love that she comes to me and wants to snuggle on the patio furniture and talk about what's in the sky, but I miss my captive audience, because she always wants to go off to do something else before I'm quite ready to let go.

DD is not yet five, and she's reading.  Reading!  Really reading.  Signs, circulars, books, commercials, you name it.  It's all interesting fodder to her.  (I usually tease her and "forbid" further reading, which of course makes her giggle and want to read all the more.) 

When I started kindergarten, it was traditional kindergarten.  Half-days, full of playing, art and nap.  When DD starts kindergarten, there will be some play, but there will also be a lot of work disguised as play.  Her kindergarten will be like my first grade.  That's OK, I guess.  She doesn't know any other life.  And, we could avail ourselves of the traditional kindergarten option at the public school.  It would be a time waster for her though.  She's ready for more.

We went to a birthday party this weekend, one of several lately, and it was filled with DD's classmates.  It was kind of bittersweet, because the parents have come to like each other very much.  We too are all going off our separate ways next month. 

When it came time for DD's present to be opened, she read the card to the birthday girl (who isn't quite yet reading; also very normal in DD's class).  I missed it, because I was outside with one of the mommies and her new yummy baby boy (so jealous!), but DH was there to see.  He said that the room went quiet, and someone said "she's reading!"  And she really was.  The birthday girl's mom was so impressed she's going to try to upload the footage and send it to me.

DD also uses some expressions that are unusual for her age, and it is so hard not to laugh when she does it.  For example, following another birthday party, DD leaned back and said, "mommy, wasn't that a splendid party?"  Or, when I came home from working at my father's house, and DD described her day with daddy, she said "we had so much fun blowing those bubbles, I burst out laughing!"  The last one that comes to mind is the way she described some identical dolls that she'd received one week when she'd had two Happy Meals (I know, my bad).  "Look mommy, they're siblings!"  I guarantee you, the words "splendid," "burst," and "siblings" did not cross my four-year-old lips.

But the thing that makes me most proud happened yesterday.  DD's current teachers rock(!), though all have been good.  Right now, they are trying to prepare the kids for kindergarten in other places, because it looks as though they will not have a kindergarten at DD's center.  (Sadly, DD's center could close due to decreased enrollment.  The lease is up next year, and that is when they usually have a decision point.)

The subject was bullying, and her teacher stopped me at pick up time to tell me about DD during this exercise.  They talked about how it feels to be bullied, and to bully others, and why it is not a good choice.  Each child had a chance to stand up, and the others were asked if so-and-so had ever acted in a bullying way.  If the answer was yes, the sitting children raised their hands.  They talked about how it made them feel, and the standing child apologized to that person.  (I'm not certain that I'm doing this justice; it was a kind atmosphere, not an accusing one, and the child who had bullied at one point also had an opportunity to receive an apology from someone who had bullied them.)  DD said she raised her hand twice, but otherwise, she didn't think that anyone had bullied her.

But here's the best part -- when DD stood, no one raised their hand.  Hearing that makes me just as proud as the reading and the enhanced vocabulary.  It tells me that she is becoming a good person as she is learning how to be a good student.  I am not blind to her faults.  For one thing, like a lot of little girls, she has problems excluding others from play, and dealing with feelings of exclusion herself.  We're working on it.  She's not perfect; none of us are.

But, oh what a wonderful little girl she's turning out to be.  And it makes it a little easier, though only just a little, to let her go and start her big girl life.

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?

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?

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.