Last year (or maybe a bit before that) I started looking for a church for Edith and I to attend. We church hopped for a while - stayed at one for a bit that coincided with earlier mentioned boyfriend's world - and finally we happened upon a church here locally that I thought was about perfect. They are not too big and not too small, there are a bunch of kids, the pastor is very intelligent and engaging, they sing some old hymns and some new Christian rock - perfect. Or as perfect as we're going to get! Anyway, a few months ago they announced they were going to start a Sunday school class on parenting. I thought this was a perfect way for me to get more involved and a good idea for life in general, so I signed up! Last week was the first week of class - I did my prep work and trotted off to church - a little apprehensive because I'm shy by nature, but also determined to make this a go.
31 folks showed up for the first day of class. 31 may sound like an insignificant number to you, but let me put it in perspective for you. Notice, it is an odd number, not an even number. Yes, folks, it was 15 darling cute perfect wonderful married Christian couples and ME. Me, the lone divorced single parent. I felt there was a big flashing arrow coming out of the top of the sanctuary and pointed straight at my sinful head. Next week I might just see if I can find a big "A" to pin to my shirt to save on the church's electric bill!
So, class commences. It was mostly an introductory week. Everyone introduced themselves. How many children they have. A story about their child. And an overview of Chapter 1. After this we broke out in small groups to discuss the questions at the end of the chapter. Oh, with an announcement that all of the dad's needed to see the teacher after a class. Hmmmmm.... So, it was me and two of these perfect couples, the lone group with an odd number, thanks to me! They were very nice people, all joking aside. We talked about the book - a premise of it is that yes we need to address the actions of our children, but the real issue is their heart. If a parent can work to ensure their children have good hearts, behavior will occur naturally and it will be a permanent thing from their heart, not actions to make their parents shut up. We discussed this, and I brought up the frustration I have is that I don't know what motivates Edith's behavior - I don't know WHY she bites. And then, guess what happened? Come on, I'll give you three guesses! Yep, the dam broke open - the tears started flowing and I could not get them to stop! I'm thinking, "Noooooooooooooo! We can't do this, we don't know these people! Stooooooooooooooop!" But they just kept on coming. And coming. And coming. In fact, they were still coming when I layed my head on my pillow that night to get some shut eye.
So now I'm the chic with an "A" on her chest who is a blubber whale to boot. Just great. Just freaking great.
But I followed through on my plan from my previous post! Please, phantom fans, please pat me on the back for this at least! Yea, me.
So Edith bit again yesterday. Ya know, when I first started this blog, I thought I'd have to rename what the focus was after a couple months because certainly it was a short lived phase. Yet here I am, plodding on, on my fifth or sixth entry, and it is still relevant. I find myself again at my wit's end. I guess my wit's end is longer than I thought it was, because I think I've found it quite a few times. What is a wit's end? It should be soft and fuzzy and good for cuddling whatever it is.
Tom picked her up from school yesterday, wherewhen (new word) he learned that Edith had bitten and hit that day. There was no phone call. Maybe the school is numb too? I was out running. It was Friday, the gate to the weekend. I came back to the house where Tom was to be reconnecting my TV (workers had been doing the floor and disconnected it and I am technically unsavvy-no-stupid and could not get it reconnected) and he greets me and says, "Guess what?" My stomach fell. I knew. Edith started to get extremely tired on the couch there - he caught the falling asleep trick and suggested we spank her right away. Good thinking. So he spanked her for the first time. Up to this point it's all been me. She was screaming she didn't want him to spank her, she wanted me to do it. He did it anyway. Man, he is stern and mean. Way more so than I am. Which digressing is indirectly one of the reasons we aren't together anymore. That "Tom" makes me shudder. It makes me want to tell him to stop, but I don't. Because obviously my loving, gentle demeanor when I beat her ass isn't having an impact. So I bite my tongue and cry inside my heart and mind.
Folks, I don't know what we are going to do. Tom and I already had an appointment with Jasmine for Monday. I know it isn't really the picture I've painted here, but Edith is a very, very sweet girl. She is so easy - she doesn't get into things, she has a wonderful disposition, she is extremely intelligent. But yet she is coming home with red and yellow faces three out of five days a week. No one else has issues with her - not her Granny, not her dad, not the babysitter up the road, and not her Sunday school teacher. Last week Edith said to me, "Mommy, I'm sorry I'm such a bad girl." It broke my heart. It broke her dad's heart when I told him. I told her, "Baby, you are not a bad girl. You just do things you should not do sometimes. Sometimes I do things I should not do." She was amazed and asked what I did that I was not supposed to do. I told her that sometimes I didn't listen to my boss or I didn't do what he told me to do. I told her we all struggle with good and bad - that that is the human condition - and that is what Jesus is in our hearts for.
We (Tom and I) are frustrated. Of course, Edith could have certainly picked a better day to refresh her biting than the day before the appointment. But, it is what it is, right? I'm kind of thinking that her teachers don't have control of the class room. There is another day care here in town that has a smaller span of control - 5 kids for one teacher versus the 22 for 2 teachers in her room right now. I also think Edith is not being challenged enough and is acting out. Whenever I mention this to Jasmine, I get the feeling....you know how you would pat someone's hand you thought was senile and tell them you agreed with them that the sky is green? That's how it feels - like every parent thinks their child is "all that" and she's not going to try to argue with me and is humoring me by agreeing. Which makes me want to scream. She moved Sweet Pea up to the fours and is leaving Edith in the threes. She claims it's because the fours are full and Edith is younger than Sweet Pea by 5 days and that Edith will be next. I think she's blowing smoke up my ass. I think she's afraid of Sweet Pea's dad and wants to keep them separated.
In fact, the more I think of it, the more I think maybe a new daycare is what is needed. So maybe I'm not completely at my wit's end yet. The other one is $200 a month more than where she is at. Tom said he'd split it with me. I don't want to pay more. I don't want to uproot Edith from where she's been since she was 10 months old. But, what else are we to do?
Hiding
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
The Three Year Old....Turns Into a Four Year Old
Well, I took a pretty long break. I apologize to all of my phantom fans. So sorry! Could have been the holidays. Yes, let us blame the holidays!
After the whole tragedy of the spanking we had a brief reprieve. It was nice. During this time I could dream that all of our whoas were now solved because we had finally followed God's advice on parenting. Sigh of relief - and no need to update this blog anymore! Problem solved! Seriously, Tom (that *is* his new blog name) and I both agreed it likely was no where near over. And we were correct. The next time Jasmine called me at work and had Edith in the office. She wanted me to speak to her on the phone, but Edith was beyond distraught and they could not get her near the phone. I could hear her, and she was in complete hysterics that her mom was on that phone. I told Jasmine I'd call Tom, and if she didn't hear back from me, he was on his way. Miraculously, I called him, and he actually jumped in his car right that very minute and drove down to Edith's school. Pigs can fly!!! He sat Edith down - actually stood her up in front of him - made her look him in the eye and say what happened and really chewed her a new one.
This made quite an impression. I know this, because a week or so later we were playing one of Edith's favorite games, where she is the mommy and I am the baby. We were playing school and I got in trouble, and she says to me with her hands on her hips, "You better behave, baby, or I will call your daddy, and he will come down here!" This time I began to ernestly hope it was over, but alas, no. We had maybe another two week break - that seems to be about our time span now. I keep spanking (alone). And in the meantime, Edith turned four. Now we have a four year old who bites, not a three year old!
At Edith's school they get different colored faces to describe their day - one face in the morning and one in the afternoon. So a green face is good, a yellow face is borderline, and a red face is bad. Needless to say, Edith gets a red face for biting. Well, last week, she got a yellow face for biting. Her teacher explained to me that since she didn't break the skin, they did not have to file and incident report, and so it was only a yellow. Then, when they put her in time alone, she tried to bite her teacher, but they stopped her, so it was okay. WOW. I think that's as earning of a red face as one can get, don't you? I'm thinking the teachers are getting in trouble (either by Jasmine or the other parents) so they must be trying to downplay it. If there's no incident report, then they don't have to tell the other parents it happened. That's what I'm thinking. Forgive me for being a cynic.
On this evening when we got home I sent her to her room to wait for me. I called Tom - he couldn't make it (which is to be expected as far as I'm concerned). I'm at my wit's end. Recently I had signed up for a new Sunday school class on parenting, which had not started yet. I'd read chapter one as my prework for class. I glared at Edith waiting on her bed and then went to my room to do a crash study on the book. I devoured it - I read 50% of the book in 10 minutes. Finally, I felt ready. I had advice on how to talk to her, how to spank her, and how to love her. I took a deep breath and went to her room. And the little poop had fallen asleep! Now what? Did she do this on purpose to avoid the situation? Did I make her wait to long and she dropped from emotional exhaustion? Do I wake her up? She looked so sweet and pitiful, still sitting up, fingers in her mouth to comfort herself. UGH!
I let her sleep about 30 minutes and then I woke her. I explained what was going to happen. I asked if she understood why it was going to happen and she said she did. I spanked her, how they said. And then she wanted to cuddle. We cuddled for about 30 minutes, until my stomach sounded like a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I pointed this phenomenon out to her and was awarded with a tiny giggle but also a tighter grip. The end result was I ended up cooking dinner just like in the old days, with her on my hip, only now she weighs about 25 more pounds than she did back then!
PS I just noticed I didn't finish the doctor story. That was a poor transition, I apologize. But he basically gave us the lamest, most unhelpful advice he could have provided. He said it was a phase. He said it would pass. He said some children bite. He said we should talk to her about it. He said we should not bite her back. He said everything you find in the first paragraph of the first web site when you google "three year old biting." He essentially let us know he thought we were bloody idiots for coming to a pediatrician because our child was biting. And that was a wrap. I was so NOT HAPPY. But, she needed the flu shot anyway, so I guess it was not a complete waste of time.
PPS I'd like to announce the next chapter will be about the new parenting Sunday school class experience, but you see how I failed to honor my last set up on the doctor office, so I hate to commit. We shall see!
After the whole tragedy of the spanking we had a brief reprieve. It was nice. During this time I could dream that all of our whoas were now solved because we had finally followed God's advice on parenting. Sigh of relief - and no need to update this blog anymore! Problem solved! Seriously, Tom (that *is* his new blog name) and I both agreed it likely was no where near over. And we were correct. The next time Jasmine called me at work and had Edith in the office. She wanted me to speak to her on the phone, but Edith was beyond distraught and they could not get her near the phone. I could hear her, and she was in complete hysterics that her mom was on that phone. I told Jasmine I'd call Tom, and if she didn't hear back from me, he was on his way. Miraculously, I called him, and he actually jumped in his car right that very minute and drove down to Edith's school. Pigs can fly!!! He sat Edith down - actually stood her up in front of him - made her look him in the eye and say what happened and really chewed her a new one.
This made quite an impression. I know this, because a week or so later we were playing one of Edith's favorite games, where she is the mommy and I am the baby. We were playing school and I got in trouble, and she says to me with her hands on her hips, "You better behave, baby, or I will call your daddy, and he will come down here!" This time I began to ernestly hope it was over, but alas, no. We had maybe another two week break - that seems to be about our time span now. I keep spanking (alone). And in the meantime, Edith turned four. Now we have a four year old who bites, not a three year old!
At Edith's school they get different colored faces to describe their day - one face in the morning and one in the afternoon. So a green face is good, a yellow face is borderline, and a red face is bad. Needless to say, Edith gets a red face for biting. Well, last week, she got a yellow face for biting. Her teacher explained to me that since she didn't break the skin, they did not have to file and incident report, and so it was only a yellow. Then, when they put her in time alone, she tried to bite her teacher, but they stopped her, so it was okay. WOW. I think that's as earning of a red face as one can get, don't you? I'm thinking the teachers are getting in trouble (either by Jasmine or the other parents) so they must be trying to downplay it. If there's no incident report, then they don't have to tell the other parents it happened. That's what I'm thinking. Forgive me for being a cynic.
On this evening when we got home I sent her to her room to wait for me. I called Tom - he couldn't make it (which is to be expected as far as I'm concerned). I'm at my wit's end. Recently I had signed up for a new Sunday school class on parenting, which had not started yet. I'd read chapter one as my prework for class. I glared at Edith waiting on her bed and then went to my room to do a crash study on the book. I devoured it - I read 50% of the book in 10 minutes. Finally, I felt ready. I had advice on how to talk to her, how to spank her, and how to love her. I took a deep breath and went to her room. And the little poop had fallen asleep! Now what? Did she do this on purpose to avoid the situation? Did I make her wait to long and she dropped from emotional exhaustion? Do I wake her up? She looked so sweet and pitiful, still sitting up, fingers in her mouth to comfort herself. UGH!
I let her sleep about 30 minutes and then I woke her. I explained what was going to happen. I asked if she understood why it was going to happen and she said she did. I spanked her, how they said. And then she wanted to cuddle. We cuddled for about 30 minutes, until my stomach sounded like a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I pointed this phenomenon out to her and was awarded with a tiny giggle but also a tighter grip. The end result was I ended up cooking dinner just like in the old days, with her on my hip, only now she weighs about 25 more pounds than she did back then!
PS I just noticed I didn't finish the doctor story. That was a poor transition, I apologize. But he basically gave us the lamest, most unhelpful advice he could have provided. He said it was a phase. He said it would pass. He said some children bite. He said we should talk to her about it. He said we should not bite her back. He said everything you find in the first paragraph of the first web site when you google "three year old biting." He essentially let us know he thought we were bloody idiots for coming to a pediatrician because our child was biting. And that was a wrap. I was so NOT HAPPY. But, she needed the flu shot anyway, so I guess it was not a complete waste of time.
PPS I'd like to announce the next chapter will be about the new parenting Sunday school class experience, but you see how I failed to honor my last set up on the doctor office, so I hate to commit. We shall see!
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