I never did wrap up the biting saga. I started this blog as an outlet, because I felt like I was going to lose my ever loving mind over Edith's biting. I didn't know what caused it, I had no control to stop it, I could not find any advice that seemed to work. It was senseless. It set our world up on end. And so I blogged, to vent. And when it stopped, I stopped. But it occurs to me that by some unforeseen miracle, someday there might be a mother (or father) who perchance may stumble upon my blog, and think to themselves, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Exactly! That's my kid! Help me!" And if I do not wrap it up, I may leave this poor soul completely hanging, just like I was. And that would be cruel. So whoever you are, dear, I am going to put a wrap on this for you. The bow may be crooked and unkempt, but all the same, it's still my gift to you. Are your ready? Are you ready for The Magic Answer? Sit down. Take a deep breath. Relax. You may want to call a friend or your mother for emotional support. Here it is:
I have no freaking clue why Edith stopped biting.
I am evilly giggling to myself. Is evilly a word? It is now.
We did switch her daycare. Here's how it went down. We went and looked at that other, more expensive place. It was sterile, kind of like a state hospital or something. Yes, there were only four kids in Edith's would-be-class. But after some investigation we learned that the only reason the class size was smaller was because of a current lack of demand. It was a new school, but based on the prices, I did kind of suppress my urge to teach them the supply and demand curve of Economics 101. But I held back. After that daycare, I went and visited a Christian one downtown. It was nice. Small (on purpose) class sizes. But the lady giving us the tour said that the four year olds were currently learning how to recognize the first letter of their name and they hoped by age five, they would be able to write their name. Edith was already doing that, and I still held firmly to my crazy and prideful notion that Edith needed to be challenged. Also, that daycare lacked before and after school care, and as Edith approaches school years, that's important.
I went right down the road from our house and visited a fairly new daycare. I liked the location, but I already knew I didn't like the place. Someone told me it was a sterile environment - and while I like cleanliness, I don't like sterile. But nonetheless, I gave it a shot. The director gave me a tour. It's a new daycare. Yes, she had room in the four year old classroom. I told her the issues we were having. After all, I didn't want to bring Edith over and have her gnaw on a whole bunch of kids without them knowing I had a carnivore! I kind of thought Summer (that is her real name) would say, "Oh, goodness! We don't need that here!" But she didn't. She didn't even blink. She said what they do there is they will move a biter up to the next age level. They may even move them up two age levels if necessary. There was a novel idea!!!!! She also educated me some - she said that daycares generally had two philosophies. One is that young children learn best in free play. The other is that young children learn best in structure. Edith's current daycare believes in free play. Summer's center was more structured - to prepare the kiddo's for Kindergarten. She openly admitted she felt it somewhat depended on the child which type of environment was better for them. I took the spot.
It was a Monday. February 13th, to be exact. I called Tom on the way to pick up Edith. I told him I was ready to make the switch. He agreed. I walked into Edith's school just as Jasmine was walking out. Dang it! I asked if I could walk her out. She sensed it was important and came back. I told her we had decided to take Edith to another school. I tried to say it nicely. I told her we just felt a change in environment might be the best thing. See, I'm pretty nonconfrontational - I didn't breathe a word that I was suspecting the teachers lacked classroom control. Or that the new school was going to put Edith in the Fours WHERE SHE BELONGED. I was sweet. And Jasmine says in a syrupy sweet sticky oozing voice, "I just don't understand it. In all my years I have never seen a child as angry as Edith. She's just so angry! I wish I could help the poor little dear with all that anger!"
I was shocked. I'm pretty sure I already told you how well I deal with things like this. I said nothing, except a meek, "Okay." I said, "What do we need to do to make this happen?" But in reality, my heart hurt. Edith isn't angry. Edith is about the most happy go lucky kid I've ever seen in my entire life. Later it occurred to me that Jasmine may have said this in self defense or retaliation. Because I was removing Edith, even though I didn't say it, the message to her was that her school and ultimately her leadership in that school had failed us, and thus I put Jasmine on the defense. Which is all true. And maybe because Tom and I had divorced when Edith was two, it was just an easy thing for her to fall back on and blame and say that Edith was an angry child. I don't know. What I do know is, it hurt. And it was not necessary, even if it was true, which it wasn't. And it was not fair. Did I mention, it hurt?
So I went to get Edith. She had received a red face. Again. She'd tried to bite. Again. I didn't even care anymore. I just wanted this two week notice to be over. I got Edith in the car and buckled her in. I got in the front seat, started the car, and turned around. I said, "Edith, your dad and I have made a decision. We are going to take you out of this school and put you in another school." Edith asked, "Will they put me in the fours?" "Yes." I will never forget the look on her face - it was one of shear joy and relief. She clapped! Her feelings had been so hurt that they would not put her in the fours. Part of me wondered again, were we doing the right thing? Was she just getting her way? But what was done was done. And something had to be done. And this was what we were doing. It was too late to turn back. There was not place to turn back to, even had we wanted to.
February 13th was the last time that Edith tried to (or successfully did) bite. That two weeks was hell. I hated going to pick her up each day. I felt we were living in a silent war zone. I dodged Sweet Pea's parents. I scanned the parking lot for their car, then rushed in, and rushed out with my sweet Edith. I felt embarassed. I felt not wanted. Not loved. Rejected. Like a failure. Not understood. But they treated Edith well - there was no retribution aimed at her. It was awkward, but it was tolerable. And eventually, the two weeks passed.
Sometimes when we drive by her old school, Edith is sad. She misses her friends. She really, really misses Sweet Pea. I have told her that for now, Sweet Pea and her cannot be friends. She asked why and I told her. I told her that Sweet Pea's parents are upset with her for biting their baby and they don't want her to be around them. It breaks her heart. She is so sorry. She offered to call them and apologize. She's offered this many times. I legitimately feel for her, and I know she is very, very sorry, and I know she's outgrown it. It makes me sad for her. For us. I've thought of writing Sweat Pea's parents a letter. But I haven't. I try to remove my feelings from it and do what's best for Edith, but somehow I don't think an apology is going to change anything. I even thought of sending them a link to this blog. But I've probably said things here that would make things worse. Edith hasn't made a new close friend like Sweet Pea was at her new school, even though she's been there for six months. But we've made other close friends and really overall, she's very happy. And she doesn't get spanked often. And she's still learning Spanish. And maybe, just maybe, I didn't need those friends after all.
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