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Phew! My preschool job has been done for a week and already this summer is hectic! I must say, preschool was a lot of fun. It had its challenges, especially since I was hired to work in a Special Education room and some of those kiddos needed one on one support. Plus, I think I was sick at least once a month, including a doozie of a case of bronchitis during Spring Break. That's what happens when little ones pick their noses and then want to hold your hand! Overall, though, I had a great time. Sadly, I will not be returning to preschool when school resumes. The good news, though, is that I will move into the elementary building and work as a paraprofessional with the mild/moderate Special Education program. I'll miss preschool, but I think this will be a good fit. Instead of worrying about what happens to the preschoolers moving on to kindergarten who still need help, I'll be one of the people helping them!
At the end of April I decided to quit my part-time retail job. Working two jobs (even if they were both part-time) was becoming too much to juggle and really taking away from time with my family. Since I only worked in the morning preschool session, often times I would sub for other paras in the afternoon, which made for long days if I had to work my retail job that night. It was a great decision to quit. For the first time in five years my husband and I are both off on the weekends. It's a nice feeling to have the entire weekend for family time. Plus, I'm not working during summer break, so I'm really trying to enjoy this time with my daughters.
My goal is to get back to this blog, at least for the summer, and I hope that's something I can manage!
In the three years my daughters have been in preschool, they have rarely been sent to time out. In fact, I can only think of two instances and it was the same daughter.
Last year, Sue Sue received a time out, along with a few other students (none of my other daughters), because they refused to come in from recess. They kept playing. The teacher gave them a warning. Then she made them sit in time out the next day during part of recess. Sue Sue also lost some privileges at home.
Last week Sue Sue received her second ever time out at school. I guess I should be upset, but mainly, I'm delighted. You may remember a few months ago when I wrote a post about "Becky." Becky is a little girl in preschool who causes problems. On a regular basis, I hear tales of Becky's wrongdoings. Becky pushed Tortilla. Becky took toys from Cakes. Becky yelled in Sue Sue's ear. Becky bit Roo. So what do my girls do in return? Nothing. After the biting incident, I reached a decision. Since Becky has continued to be aggressive toward my girls (and pretty much every child in the class), I instructed my girls to fight back. If Becky pushes you, you push her. If she hits you, you hit her. Normally I wouldn't condone this, but the teacher clearly doesn't have a handle on Becky. When I expressed concern, her answer was "I'm working on it." I could be that mom and call the principal, but I wanted to see what happened if my daughters tried to take care of themselves.
Sue Sue's time out? Becky pushed her. Sue Sue pushed her back. They both went to time out. Sue Sue was not the one to tell me about her time out. Neither was the teacher. It was her sisters. I sat Sue Sue down, asked her why she went to time out. "Because I pushed Becky." "Why did you push her?" "She pushed me." Sue Sue clearly thought she was in trouble. I told her that I agreed that she should go to time out at school because she broke the rules, but that there would not be any further punishment at home.
I know some people are reading this, shaking their heads. How could I possibly encourage my daughters to fight back? At some point, all children need to learn to stand up for themselves. In my opinion this was a last resort. I don't want my daughters to resolve disputes by fighting, but I don't want them to let other people walk all over them. I know I'm sending them mixed messages. It's OK to be naughty sometimes, just not all of the time. That's a lot for a preschooler to grasp. But in this case, it seemed to work. When I asked Sue Sue what happened to Becky at the end of the time out she said "Becky and I played and she was nicer."
Every class has a troublemaker. Sometimes it's a class clown who likes the attention. Sometimes it's a child who has behavioral issues. Sometimes it's a child who just can't get her act together.
Within the first few days of this school year, I knew "Becky" would be the troublemaker. Becky runs around while all the other kids are lined up at the fence in the morning. Becky pushes kids on the playground. Becky doesn't stay in line while walking to the classroom. Becky just bit one of my daughters.
Yes. She BIT one of my girls. Hubby called me at work yesterday to tell me the teacher had left a message indicating Roo was bitten by "another student." (Well, duh, if she bit herself you wouldn't be calling). Becky was at the top of my list of culprits.
At first, I took it all in stride. OK, so in the history of preschool, my daughter is not the first child to be bitten. The message indicated the skin hadn't been broken, so the risk of infection seemed slim. But since I had to finish my work day, I had plenty of time to start stewing. Someone BIT my daughter. She didn't hit her. Didn't pinch her. She bit her.
My daughters have never bitten any child... other than their sisters, of course. So I'm trying to remind myself that it's a learning process. Becky doesn't have siblings close to her age. She's learning how to get along with her peers. I'm willing to overlook this and not bring it up again. I'm hoping the teacher follows through on her promise to talk with Becky's mom. (Hey, if my kid bites someone, I want to know so I can do some disciplining at home, too).
Except this morning, Roo said she hoped Becky was sick and not at school today. Then Cakes said Becky yelled in her ear and pushed her the other day. I told each of my daughters that if they want to play with Becky at school, that's fine. But if they don't want to play with her, that's fine, too. Part of preschool is learning how to get along with everyone... but it's also learning how to start standing up for yourself and making decisions about right and wrong. Let's just hope the rest of the week goes on without any incidents.
When you are a parent, you quickly realize things change. Your priorities, your desires, and, inevitably, the way you speak. I am constantly using "preschool language," even when I'm only in the company of adults.
For instance, just the other day Hubby was helping me put the girls to bed. I asked him to take over brushing their teeth because, and I quote "I need to go potty." Keep in mind, none of the girls were around when I said this. About a year ago, I told Hubby "You need to call your mommy." These words have become such a major part of my language that I don't even think twice about using them. I've caught myself just as I'm ready to "shush" an adult for not using "inside voices." After I drop my girls off at preschool, I will be blocks away before I realize not only am I still listening to their CD, but I'm singing along!
I once brought this topic up on a message board. A mom of triplets said she was driving somewhere with a friend... no kids in the car. Suddenly, she pointed "Look! A train!" Her friend was a mom and understood.
I don't even find it embarrassing any more when I have these slip ups. It's all part of hanging around preschoolers.
My daughters have been talking lately about what will happen when they grow up. Here are some of their gems, prefaced by "When I Grow Up":
- I'm going to live next door to you.
- I'm going to live here, but I'll make you cereal every morning.
- I'll live here and make you guacamole. Oh, and I'll give you some blueberries, too.
- I'm not going to go to high school. (Me: Yes you are, end of discussion).
- I'm not going to go to college (see response to previous statement).
- I'm going to have a puppy (apparently three cats aren't good enough).
- I'm going to be a doctor. I want you to pick out the toys for the waiting room.
- I'm going to be a nurse so I can give other kids shots.
- I'm going to climb a mountain.
- I'm going to stay at the swimming pool until it's dark.
And my personal favorite:
My daughters have never had major issues being away from me. Sure, from time to time they cry or act weepy, but all in all, they've never had problems. On their first day of preschool they walked into the room and never gave me a second glance. Unfortunately, something has happened to change all of that.
It started a few weeks ago. My girls were downstairs and I went upstairs to print something. I was in our office/guest room/catch-all room when I heard someone screaming at the top of her lungs. I could tell it was Roo and she sounded terrified. I ran from the room and she was standing on the steps, screaming and choking on her tears. "What happened?" I asked. "I didn't know where you were," she managed to choke out. There was nothing wrong, she was just upset that she couldn't see me. The rest of the day I made sure to tell her if I needed to go to another part of the house.
Then about a week ago we went to a picnic. When it was time to leave, the girls discovered they had left their party favors in the shelter. After everyone was buckled in the car, I went back to the shelter to grab the goods. I told them where I was going and they could see me the entire time. I was gone less than two minutes. I returned to the car to find Roo screaming and crying. "You should have been in the car" she screamed at me. A few days ago we were getting ready to go to the zoo. After everyone was buckled in the car I told them I needed to run inside to use the bathroom. Hubby was standing almost right outside Roo's window, but she screamed the entire time I was gone. (And in case you're wondering, no I don't leave them in the car by themselves for long periods of time... nor do I leave them in the car in a store parking lot). All weekend she has thrown a fit if I leave the room. I've made it a point to say things such as "I'm going upstairs to put this load of laundry away, I'll be back in a few minutes." She has asked if she can sit on her bed while I put away laundry because she doesn't want to be downstairs "by herself." On Saturday she didn't want me to go the grocery store. I asked her to come with me, thinking some mother-daughter one-on-one time was in order. Nope. She didn't want to go and she didn't want me to go, either. Keep in mind that during most of these experiences, Hubby is around. When he asks her why she is crying, she'll say "I want Mommy... I don't want to be by myself." She could care less if he's around. She wants me and only me. The day of the grocery store meltdown, I ended up taking her sisters with me and she stayed home to bond with Hubby. They played games, they played with Legos, they ate chocolate. They had a blast. There were no tears shed over the fact that I was gone. But once I came home, the tears started again... it has gotten to the point that I can't go to the bathroom without her crying.
Interestingly enough, bed time is not a source of tears. A few nights last week the girls stayed up waaaaaaay past their bed time because we had company. Roo requested to leave her bedroom door open and I left the hallway light on for maybe 10 minutes. She was fine with that, although she said she was "scared of the dark." (Never an issue, but it doesn't seem to be a huge issue now, either).
Yesterday Hubby and I got some clues as to what's going on. Roo says that at some point in time someone (neither one of us) was watching a "scary show on TV with bats and skeletons." The person in question denies watching anything unsuitable for preschoolers... so I'm back to square one. I'm just hoping I can get to the bottom of this and get my happy little girl back.
There are a few things I do which inevitably mean one of my daughters will need my immediate attention. This tends to include:
- Talking on the phone (I've been known to hide on the steps, in the bathroom or in the laundry room for important conversations so the caller doesn't hear "Mom! Mom! MOOOOOOOM!" the whole time)
- Going to the bathroom (Just this morning Roo felt it was a dire emergency. I opened the door mid-"business" to find out that she wanted to watch TV.)
- Eating lunch (I have no idea what it is about my need for food, but the second I sit down, mid-bite, I am surrounded by little girls who want dolls dressed, barrettes put back in their hair or absolutely need me to read a book to them right this very minute)
Shopping with my daughters used to easy... well, relatively speaking. It wasn't easy piling them into a wagon and dragging the wagon around a store, but it was a fairly stress-free event. We would look at toys and then move on to the real purpose of our trip with no tears shed. Not any more.
Now when I go to a store, I am bombarded with "Can I have that?" It can make for a frustrating outing. The other day, one of my daughters ran some errands with me. She was looking at a princess birthday card and was disappointed that I didn't buy it. She cried all the way home when I refused to buy a balloon at the grocery store. I tried explaining the concept of money, but it's point she hasn't mastered. Can I blame my daughters? No, they're only four. We don't give in to their every whim, so it's not as though they're given treats on every outing. I'm just trying to figure out how to get over this case of "The Gimmies."
