Go me!

I may be a bitch sometimes, but that doesn't mean I like being a bitch, or even being in any sort of confrontation at all for that matter. I get so incredibly nervous, I crack jokes to ease the tension, I often and easily turn bright red (like CRIMSON), and I tend to be self deprecating by putting some of the blame of the situation on me in order to lessen the blow of what I need to say, even if I had nothing to do with it.

Not yesterday.

I spoke with the director of the daycare. I was NOT a bitch at all...I actually thought I handled myself quite well, I didn't cry, and was proud of myself for being a grown up - Ha! Imagine that...

I started off by asking if she had heard that A was having any behavioral issues with pushing/hitting/biting etc., and she said no. I said since she started in T1, she has been doing that more, but I mentioned how difficult it must be to not be able to communicate your needs or ask for something you want. I was clear that I was uncomfortable with the feeling I get with Miss Victoria...I did say that I understood that it sounded kind of dumb, but the only way I knew how to describe it was a gut feeling that V doesn't like Alexandra. I told her I know not everyone is warm and fuzzy... I know this isn't the infant room and she doesn't need to be cuddled all the time and that I want her to be learning more independence... I know that it's common for toddlers to push and hit, but that it was as if Allie was the first kid to ever do so under V's watch... I know she'll be on the receiving end and the giving end at some times, I have no delusions that my child is perfect...I imagine she gets very frustrated when she can't say what she needs, but that she is the youngest in the class and should not be disciplined or dealt with the same as kids who are 6+ months older than she is...I know to expect that A has bad days sometimes, but I expect positive feedback as well...I try to ask what V does to handle misbehavior so I can be consistent at home, but I don't get much feedback... I never worry that A is not safe or not being taken care OF - I worry that she's not being cared FOR, and that her treatment will be different from that of the other children who V likes better.

The director, Betsy, was surprised. Apparently V is warm and fuzzy, and she doubted that she doesn't like Alexandra. But thankfully, she was very receptive to my concerns...she said I need to feel comfortable with Allie's care, and know for certain that she is welcomed, loved and nurtured at all times. She said that V does know how to deal with kids of different developmental levels...

I'm not sure exactly what will happen from here. My fear is that V will know I talked to Betsy and be super weird to me/around me now. But for sure, A will no longer be in her immediate group of 4 when the class breaks up into 2 groups for activities. Betsy said she'll phrase it so that the other teacher, Gina, deals with the younger kids -- and there is another girl coming up into the room with the exact same birthday as Allie, so that is great!

I felt a lot better after talking with her, but I guess we shall see how things go from here on out.

Today when I dropped A off, Gina told me that Allie is a natural leader and doing so much better with her words (she told me that yesterday, too). When she doesn't know what to say, she finds a way to tell you with other gestures. It was really nice to hear!

I try so hard not to be THAT parent - the one who calls to check in, questions or challenges the daycare, or tells them how to do their job. They are the child care experts, but I am the expert on my child - and this was my first real mommy moment in which I had  to stand up for my kid when she couldn't do it for herself. Go me!

One of those days.....

I'm a crying, blubbery mess today.

I'm frustrated with A's daycare because I feel like her main teacher doesn't like her - she always tells me what A has done 'wrong' that day, and never any positives. And she sounds like A is the first child to ever push another.... She is the YOUNGEST in the class by several months. Can you imagine how frustrating it must be to not be able to communicate your needs? She's doing better verbally, but she's not up to where the other kids are, and I think because she is so tall, people forget that she's still a baby. MY baby. It makes me angry. It makes me sad. And it shouldn't, but it makes me feel like my baby is doing something wrong.

Then today I didn't unplug the toaster. I don't remember if I unplugged the iron. And the crockpot is going, so there's one MORE fire risk. And Jethro is home, so that increases my fears even more.... I would never forgive myself! Ugh, I'm seriously ridiculous today, and I know it. I need a mental health day.

Things that go bump in the night...

I like to think of myself as a strong, independent woman - someone who can take care of herself and isn't afraid of much. I've walked the streets of DC at 2am, interviewing witnesses to crimes... I've walked through crack houses... I've testified under oath in court... I've been in and out of jails and prisons to visit and interview convicted and accused criminals... I've stared true evil in the face without flinching... I worked 2 jobs while going to school full time and maintaining a relationship... I pushed a baby out of ...well, you know.

I can blame the kid, I suppose, but things have changed in the fear factor department. I'm now a wuss.

When C travels, I'm slightly paranoid being home alone, especially over night. I never used to be, but I have become a little OCD, making sure doors & windows are locked and A is still in her bed when I go to sleep (yeah, because someone climbed up about 20 feet with no foot-holds and kidnapped her without me or Jethro hearing...right).

Last night, I went to bed a little before 11, and was awoken by the sound of falling tupperware at about 3:30. Now, in our house, tupperware falls all the time. We absolutely can not keep it organized. (That's a whole other post, accompanied by pictures). But there was no reason for it to fall on the floor in the kitchen at 3:30. I blamed the wind shaking the house, or something, and sorta dozed...until I heard a THUD at about 4:30. I had no husband to make go downstairs while I cowered in bed. I had no baseball bat. Or mace. So all by my lonesome, I crept downstairs, turning on EVERY light in the house and poking my head around corners, all while holding my breath and waiting to be ambushed.

It was ridiculous. I was ridiculous.

It was probably some noise outside, or the wind blowing a trash can lid, or a million other things besides someone breaking into my house. But that's where my  head goes now. Just like every time I get into an elevator I expect to see a body laying in it when the door opens. There, I said it out loud. But I digress.

Last night I was so stupid. The likelihood of some intruder being in my house is slim to none. I know it intuitively, but I want to protect my baby - and that trumps logic every time. I finally did fall asleep for about 45 more minutes, until the dog started whining to go out and I finally just got up for the day to make lunches & get both kids to daycare (yes, I even brought the dog WAY out of my way because I feel so bad that he's cooped up all week & tomorrow / Thurs will be too snowy for me to bring him).

Also... I didn't check the basement, so there could be someone hiding down there, and I don't want them to hurt my puppy.

I'm pathetic.