I have 2 kids! Let's not screw them up!

Well, Darling Daughter 2 was born just over a month ago and we haven't slept since then.  C'est la vie.  I think there is something in our genetics that causes us to forget, edit/polish or willfully ignore how awful having a newborn is because otherwise nobody would ever have 2 kids.  On the plus side, she's totally cute and looks a little like a hedgehog.

    Now that I have 2 kids, I feel very "parenty."  And as a former nanny and now a teacher, I have dealt with the consequences of bad parenting and the rewards of good parenting every day for the last decade or more.  I hope that I will do better by my own daughters than some of those whose decisions make my job more difficult than it needs to be while taking the examples of the great parents I interact with whose children reflect the job they're doing.

   What are some things that are hallmarks of good or bad parenting?  Oh, let me ennumerate....

1.  Good parents advocate for their child but don't try to control outcomes for their children.  Kids absolutely HAVE to learn what it feels like to fail.  If you shield your child from every disappointment, even a truly deserved failure, you have taught them that everything will always go their way.  As adults we KNOW that isn't true, and some of the most aggravating and intolerable people you know in your life are almost certainly those who believe they must get their own way all the time.

2.  Don't be afraid to make your child cry.  As humans we learn the difference between right and wrong by not liking how we feel when we've done something wrong.  I don't think kids are born with a conscience.  I think it is a parent's job to make his or her kid feel bad when they've done something wrong.  The kid then learns that feeling bad about what you did sucks and boom! a conscience is born.

3.  Trust your child's teacher until he or she gives you a real and valid reason not to.  Teachers see your child in a whole different environment than their family does.  A teacher might, one day, tell you that your child did something that you have a hard time believing- but in my experience, teachers don't generally make up stuff to make children look bad.  Teachers understand kids a lot better than most parents do because we see such a wide variety of them. A teacher can often give you the best advice for how to deal with an issue, although legally we're not allowed to because it's overreaching, I guess.  If your son or daughter's teacher tells you that he or she is having trouble with behavior or academics, it's in your best interest to believe it.  It doesn't necessarily make you a bad parent if you have a kid who struggles with something- but it DOES make you a bad parent to ignore the reality of it and fail to help your child cope or overcome.

4. Learn to say no.  Learn to MEAN no.  Learn not to let "no" change to "yes" or "maybe."  Being able to stick to an absolute no is an invaluable parenting must. Does that mean you're never allowed to change your mind?  Of course not- one of the best things a child can learn from his or her parents is that sometimes it's necessary to reexamine a situation.  But if you always cave into your child, they will learn, once again, that they're supposed to get their way in every situation.

5. Help your child learn that ALL actions have consequences; good or bad. I don't mean that you need to reward all good decisions and punish all bad ones.  We already have a culture of children who have been raised believing that they deserve candy for pooping in the toilet. I reward for things that go beyond a regular expectation.  But that doesn't mean that you can't teach your child that good things have good consequences anyway.  You cleaned up your room?  Wow, now you hava a nice neat place to play, aren't you lucky? You were nice to a new student in your class?  Awesome, you probably made a new friend.  You learned your vocabulary for the test this week and got a good grade? I'm proud of you and all those new words you are learning will make you sound so smart when you use them in your speech or writing.   I don't expect kids to be perfect, obviously.  But I have found one of the most powerful negative consequences for a child is to have a grownup express disappointment in their choices, but not to try to stop them from doing what they decided to do.  You're choosing to play your computer game instead of studying for your science test?  Wow, I'm really disappointed.  I thought you would make a better choice than that..... for a child in whom you have developed a conscience, that stings worse than you unplugging the computer and forcing them to open their science notes.... they make the choice to do the right thing themself rather than being forced.... and they don't end up being mad about the Huge Injustice their Evil Parent just did to them.

   I got all thoughty for this post because I have a set of parenst who is not happy that I noted on a report card that their child's behavior modification plan was going well.  First of all, having the teacher tell you your child's behavior plan is successful is a COMPLIMENT to your child.  But these parents are only concerned that it indicates that there was a behavior problem to begin with.  So what?  Stop believing your child is a perfect angel- kids are HUMAN and they are not perfect.  CELEBRATE that your child has overcome something that was a struggle.  Tell your child you're proud of the good work he or she has done in having more self control in the classroom.  Understand that your child's failures don't make you look bad unless their reaction to the failure isn't what it ought to be.

   Oy.  I have just under another month of maternity leave and I'm pretty happy about that.  I absolutely love many of the students in my class this year and the parents who have raised them to be awesome, but on the whole I will be glad to move this group up to first grade and start fresh with new kids and new parents.  It's a hard mix this year. 

How to Cripple a Child

So this week I've been the recipient of The Blame Game.  Perhaps earlier in my career I would have been willing to accept some of the blame that has been heaped upon me this week, but at this stage I know I'm right and that I've done nothing for which to be blamed.....Would you like to know what's my fault?

Well, it seems Georgie's mother has decided I'm a baaaaaaaaad teacher.  And here's the reasons:

1. Georgie made a puddle on the floor earlier this week.  And that was my fault because I wasn't tracking how often he was using the classroom bathroom and asking him if he needed to go pee pee in the potty at regular intervals.  Now, a few years ago I would have offered to create some sort of reward system or something to encourage him to "go" and would have shouldered that responsibility.  Now, no way.  I told her that since he was the youngest kindergartener in my class (didn't turn 5 until the middle of September) that developmentally he probably wasn't identifying the beginning of "the urge" and didn't realize he needed to go until it was a near emergency and that I couldn't make another student evacuate the bathroom to let him use it.  HE needs to be responsible for using his SIX (or more) bathroom breaks that I offer during our 6 hour school day.  Lordy, I'm 7 months pregnant and the idea of 6 breaks a day sounds heavenly to me.... I get one.  If I can make it on 1 a day, he can make it on 6.

2.  I refuse to search through Georgie's backpack to find things that she sends to school with him. This has been an ongoing issue for him.  For example, last week she sent treat bags to give the class on Monday for Halloween.  Well, when Georgie came in to class, he told me he had "toys in his backpack."  For those unaccustomed to elementary age kids, they OFTEN bring toys from home in their backpack, and are either naiive enough to tell their teacher that, or they think we're too stupid to notice that suddenly Justin Bieber has joined our class and is singing a tinny recorded song emanating from his abdomen. So when he announced he had toys, I said what I always say: "Toys stay in our backpack, and please don't bring them back to school."  So that was the first nasty note of the week. Fun!  I just flat out told Mom this time that he told me he had toys, and I told him toys weren't allowed.  He needs to learn to communicate what he really means.

3.  Then today, I'm in trouble with her because he hasn't brought a take-home reading book home all week.  Well, tough shit.  I spend the first MONTH of school chasing after the kids to make sure they are choosing a book and packing it away to take home.  I spend a second month chasing the third of them who still don't get it.  Now in the third month of school I do not chase, and will only remind.  If he still doesn't know what his job is, then it's HER problem, not mine.  SHE needs to help her child because MY job is to foist some independence on him.

    All of this took me back to a couple of years ago when I was miserably plodding through a year of 5th grade hell.... I had a mother tell me I couldn't hold her child responsible for a book report because I hadn't written it down for him in his assignment notebook and hadn't called her to tell her that it was assigned.  I told her that it was HIS assignment, not hers, and that I don't notify parents individually of assigned schoolwork. But come the hell on.  Really?

   These are the parents who are crippling our education system.  And lordy I wish they weren't mine to deal with.

Maybe it's just the hormones

Maybe I'm just a gigantic wad of hormones, but I am completely in love with my little girl here lately.  Let me count the ways....

Now that she's a talker, the things that come out of her mouth could get her a gig at the Funnybone.  In addition to being precocious, she's also got an absurd vocabulary for a 2 year old (genetics, probably).  Listening to her make connections to things and talk about it just warms the cold cockles of my heart.  For example, at the doctor's office, there's a picture of a bunch of fairy tale critters in one of the room, and listening to her name them "Issa DRAGON!  Issa fairy!" is amazing.  Where does a 2 year old learn to identify a dragon?  And how freaking awesome is that?  She also commands your attention before she tells you something, much like someone doing a communication exercise for some sort of cult.  Before she tells anyone anything, she says their name, quite forcefully, and makes sure they're paying attention because what she's about to tell you is super important.  For example:

"MAMA!"
"Yes baby?"
"Dada gotta pee butt?"
"No, I don't think Dada has a pee butt.  Dada doesn't wear a diaper anymore."
"Mama gotta pee butt?"
"No, Mama goes pee pee in the potty.  Do you want to pee pee in the potty?"
"Nonononononononono."

  I take her to the sitter's house most mornings and it's our special time to talk about things.  Sometimes we talk, sometimes we sing, sometimes we both look morose because it's 7:30 and we've been awake too long with too many things to do already.  But the singing is usually my favorite, except for when we have to do the Oratorio of Old McDonald, where I have to sing it as she names the animal noise she'd like included in this verse.  "A cow?" "A horse?" "A giraffe?"

But my favorite is when she plays pretend.  She has several little plush toys of characters from Sesame Street and Yo Gabba Gabba that she loves, and if you watch her carefully, she will make them pattycake or do the Itsy Bitsy Spider.....She'll have Elmo's hands in hers, making him do the motions while she sings:

Thaaaa ippy 'pider climbin' dere,
Down a rain an WASH it out!
Out a sun an dry a rain,
Anna ippy 'pider climb again!



Yeah, I may miss sleeping.  I miss doing my laundry and letting the husband fend for himself.  I miss having time to spoil my dogs. I miss not having to consider "toddler friendly" options for eating out and planning meals....I miss only having to clean up after my slob of a husband.  But when I open a little girl's bedroom door in the morning and a tiny little thing in footed piggy jammies squeals and comes running to hug my legs and say "HI MAMA!  I gotta BOOK!" then the rest of it kind of goes away.

Do I appear to have an abundance of time?

This week has already been an experiment in survival and it's only Wednesday.

  In addition to a very nice field trip which some aggravating parent decisions rendered stressful for me, my kid is sick.  She never gets sick.  In her nearly 2 years of life, she's had a round of antibiotics exactly once. Therefore it's hard to know what to do to make her feel better because we've had to do it so rarely.

  And did I mention I'm 27 weeks pregnant?  If you've never done that, it's not so fun.  This is the point where things start getting uncomfortable.  I can't move or bend like I would like to, I can't hold my kid in certain ways, I have ver little lap for her and Gus to share. And since it's the second go around things that weren't such a bother last time like round ligament pain and Braxton Hicks contractions really seriously hurt and suck schweddy monkey balls.


   And the husband has the creeping crud and is even less helpful around tha house than usual which means that instead of contributing in very minor ways to cleaning up his own messes, he's leaving them and making them bigger than ever.  Why does he need to keep 4 pairs of dirty socks on the couch?  Why?

   Then today my to-do list at work grew by leaps and bounds, mostly from being voluntold to do various things.  When people schedule things for me to attend or incorporate into my own overfull schedule, I get cranky.  I was stuck in a meeting having the same conversation about the same aspect of curriculum that I've now had at least 5 times.  I'm not sure if TPTB think that the learning curve on this particular math program is that steep or if they are just trying to find some way to fill our time other than letting us use it to accomplish some of the million things they want us to do during the day without actually allocating the time that accomplishing them requires.  Thanks for that.

  The Squirt has poison ivy.  I didn't even know what poison ivy looked like.  I've never gotten it and am pretty sure I'm immune to it.  I KNOW I've come into contact with it many times but never had a rash or anything.  The Husband is the same way.  So then last night we noticed a couple of little red bumps on The Squirt that we first dismissed as bug bites because she loves to play outside right now.  Then tonight when she requested bathtime and got nekkid, we noticed that her 3 or 4 spots had turned into 10-12.  So, knowing her Papa has some sort of rash situation going on that his regular doctor couldn't identify but was supposed to be seen by a dermatologist today, we called to find out what his diagnosis is, and bingo, poison ivy. So thank goodness for Uncle Mike in Georgia who is hyper allergic to it and was able to confirm for us that the poor kid is indeed itchy and miserable.... and despite not inheriting her Mommy and Daddy's resistance to poison ivy, she did inherit her daddy's odd reaction to benadryl, meaning the medicine that should make her comfortable, less itchy and sleepy renders her hyper as a loon.

   Mommy needs a break, people.  And a burrito.  And probably some cookie dough ice cream.

Reasons Dr. House is TOTALLY Right

I am a little bit in love with Dr. House.  If you don't watch House, MD, you may not know about the scruffy curmudgeonly genius who, despite serious anti-social tendencies, has a wit and brilliance unsurpassed on television.  The only character on TV I appreciate more is Walter Bishop on Fringe.

House always refers to pregnancy as a parasitic infection.  And the reasons for that, while seemingly shocking for shock value, are disturbingly correct....

A parasite, by definition, is an organism that has a symbiotic relationship with a host that it benefits from at the cost of the host.

HOW, I ask you, then, is a baby NOT a parasite?

For example, I do not throw up.  I will lie immobile in my bed, moving only to chew a tums or sip a gingerale to avoid throwing up. I'd rather die.  Yet the moment the sperm hits the egg, the parasitic infection that results sends my head into the toilet daily, hourly, sometimes even several times in an hour for months on end.  Some "experts" will claim that after the hcg hormone peaks around week 14 that the symptoms of morning sickness should dissipate.... they are big fat lying liars who lie.  I tell you this with the confidence of someone who in her last pregnancy even continued throwing up AFTER childbirth.

Second example: heartburn.  Now, one might assume that since I am so distressingly fat according to the medical community that food and I would be best friends.  Plus, if you read my lasy blog entry, then you'd know I like to cook.  However, during pregnancy food and I are arch enemies.  I can get heartburn without even eating food.  I'm at the point now where I can actually GET heartburn from antacids.  Again, I have nobody to blame but the uterine parasite.

Third example: The parasite MOVES with a will of its own. She's big enough now that all the somersaults and judo moves she occupies herself with are able to even be felt by the outside world, should I like you enough to allow you to touch my belly.  How is this at my expense?  Well, for one thing, it's distracting.  And then when you consider that it's an ENTIRE LIVING BEING currently being housed WITHIN MY BODY, the fact that you can feel it move is entirely freaky while being admittedly cool.

Fourth, the removal of the parasite is the only known cure for two medical conditions: pregnancy and pre-exlampsia.  Until the parasite is removed, you're pregnant and you can't unpregnant without disconnecting the parasite from the host.  And on the unfortunate chance that you piss it off enough for it to to raise your blood pressure and cause irreversible circulatory system damage, the only cure for the condition is getting the parasite removed.

Fifth, the cellular replication of the parasite directly leads to uncomfortable changes in the body of the host organism.  As someone who generally sleeps like the dead, the arrival of a big belly that I can't sleep on, joints that hurt all the time and a small creature resident too close to my bladder to allow it any peace at all means that I am basically a slightly functional zombie. Slightly. I keep leaving my cellphone in the pantry and putting the same load of laundry to wash over and over because the parasite has robbed me of my ability to sleep like a corpse on ambien. 

The one thing the parasite has going for it is that it's pretty stinkin' cute upon removal.  And as it grows up, it does learn to sing The Itsy Bitsy Spider with a lisp.

So much for a career in the ministry

I have one little friend who is very outgoing, friendly, etc.... so much so that we'd joked that he had a future as either a Baptist preacher or a politician.  Yesterday, however, I believe he disqualified himself from the ministry.....


You see, we were making our "Brown is a bear" page for our color book and everyone was decorating their bear.  I demonstrated, adding a face, a shirt, pants, shoes and an iPod to my own bear (I can't keep things simple, you know.....LOL).  So they start in on their bears, most of which look remarkably like my own because Kindergarteners have huge imaginations when it comes to making excuses for why they did something, but very little when it comes to art.  Then I get to this one friend and after doing a double take, I have to ask him to tell me about it.  Because to my eyes, the bear is wearing a crop top and a g-string.

His answer?  His bear was "trashy like that lady at the beach."

Rightly so, sir. 

Behavior Sheet Comments

Already this year I have had cause to write things on students' behavior sheets that I never thought I would write in my life...

* Please remind your daughter that bottoms go in chairs and faces go in the air, not faces on chairs and bottoms in the air.

* Your child seemed very tired and was confused by being at school today

* I was unsure of whether marshmallows and pretzels were your child's lunch or snack?

* Your child thought it was funny to spit her snack out on the table today.

* Your child changed their color after being caught dancing and singing Taio Cruz' "Dynomite" in the bathroom.

Yeah.  That's a pretty clear description of my daily life.

You don't hit thumbody elth.

Just quickly,  I am STILL Mrs. Teacher Person.  So I told him I'll just call him Mr. Student Boy.  Obviously he didn't get it.

Today we were discussing, for the 6th day in a row (this IS Kindergarten), the Rules.  I tell my kids that there's one rule: Be Kind.  Then we talk about the different things that you can do that are kind, along with things that you do that are not kind. Kind things would include the obvious ones like sharing, keeping hands to yourself, using nice words and manners.... but I also include things that are kind to grownups like not interrupting, doing what a grownup asks you to do right away, using your nose and bellybutton to listen (face and body facing me).  So today we were discussing things that are not kind after a few boys decided that they'd hit each other (and hit back, and hit someone because he hit your friend, etc.... it was very Three Stooges).  I have a little guy who has barely spoken a word since he came in.  When he needs to go to the bathroom, he points and raises his eyebrows questioningly (we're working on that).

So this tiny hand is in the air for the first time, and clearly I must acknowledge it. (again, name changed for privacy)

Me: So boys and girls, Big Kindergarteners never, never hit or kick on purpose, right?  Yes Antonio?

Antonio: You don't hit thumbody elth.

Me: (stifling a giggle) That's right, Antonio.  And why not?

Antonio: They might fart on you.



I just left that one alone.

"Georgie" Update

Today he came to me very concerned that I'd given him the wrong rest mat.  Seemed he knew that his first name started with a certain letter, and that letter wasn't on his mat..... and that would be because his mat has his last name on it.  Yep.

And I'm still Miss Teacher Person.

The One Where I Laughed A Lot

Today I had a cherubic little friend who kept calling me "Miss Teacher Person."  Well, I grew tired of it, and invited him to come talk to me during snack time.  I told him that if I could remember his name, that it would be very nice if he could remember mine, too.  Here's how that went....(changing first name for privacy purposes)

Me:  Georgie, if I can remember your name, don't you think you could remember mine?
Georgie: No, maybe not.

Ok.... well, then later on the guidance counselor was checking the bus roster on his bus to make sure everyone was where they should be.  When she got to Georgie, she asked him what his name was.

Georgie:  Georgie Davis.
Counselor: Georgie Davis?  I don't see anyone on the list named Georgie Davis?  Are you sure your last name is Davis?
Georgie: Yes, I'm Georgie Davis.
Counselor:  Do you mean you're in Mrs. Davis' class?
Georgie:  Yeah.

Well, so I think we've solved the problem of him forgetting MY name.  The question remains as to whether or not he knows who HE is.

Less Effective Management of Herds of 5 Year Olds: A Treatise

Each year, kindergarten teachers greet their newest crop of little ones and walk out the door on the first day with the same general consensus:

Kindergarten showcases the reasons why humans don't have litters.  Nobody sane can handle 21 five year olds in one room.

Today we were off to the races for the 2011-2012 school year, and what a send off it was!  Having had approximately 1/32 the needed amount of time to actually prepare physically and emotionally for the first day of K due to Virginia's rapidly deteriorating reputation with natural disasters, I entered my room with at least a vague notion of what I was doing (a nice side effect of staying in the same grade 2 years in a row for a change).  I had a to-do list for the day, I was ready to get the things that needed doing done.

Of course, by 9:15 I couldn't find the damn list so I resorted to just flying by the seat of my pants, only to find the list right there. In my pants.  Well, in the pocket.  Sort of like the lost-glasses-on-the-head trick.

So we alternated between reading stories and using the different items of interest around the room, letting the little ones explore and experience this new environment where they will spend so many hours until June.

No, wait.  That's not quite as picturesque as it sounds.

Picture, if you will, a carpet.  That carpet attempting to contain 20 totally spastic wildebeasts, and failing.  3 are sitting nicely, waiting for directions.  Five are untying their shoes because it will be fun to ask me to tie them again. Four are spinning hypnotically on their butts, oblivious to those around them.  One is attempting a headstand.  The other 7 have their hands in the air to "tell me" something that has no actual relevance to well, life on this planet.  And me.  Little old me, in my teachery chair, story in hand, interrupting every page to say "No, please stop, that's not how we sit, show me what big kindergarteners do, everybody freeze, show me criss-cross-applesauce-hands-in-your-lap, it's my turn to talk, it will be yours in a minute....." on a running loop.

But my "favorite" moments revolve around the bathroom.

Me: Ok, boys and girls, Mrs. Davis has one very important rule about the bathroom.  When we are all sitting on the carpet, you can't ask to go to the bathroom then.  So everyone look right now.  Where are you sitting?

Kids: On the carpet

Me: So can we go to the bathroom right now?

Kids: No

Me: Great!  You guys are super smart!

Kid 1: I need to go to the bathroom
Kid 2: Can I go to the bathroom, too?
Kid 3: I want some water.
Kid 4: I'm THIRSTY!!

Me: *headdesk*

And so begins another of Davis' Bathroom Training Sessions.......

What to Expect when you're Expecting Kindergarten

Today we greeted a fresh new crop of 5 year olds to the public school system. Wide eyed and adorable, they timidly took their first steps towards being educated and productive members of society.

Wait, who am I kidding?  Kindergarten ain't nothing like that anymore! Kindergarteners are all about the sound bites.  Take these gems:

"My mommy said to let me use the potty because I just pee when I want."

"My mommy and daddy SLEEP IN THE SAME BED!" (said with great gravity)

Me: "Why did you throw that kangaroo?"
Kid: "I just felt it here, in my liver."

Kid: "You're really big.  Are you a ninja warrior?"
Me: "Why yes I am.  Now go sit down."

"I was in the bathroom a long time because I had to do a really big poop."

"I just CAN'T use crayons that don't have a pointy end."

"Can I have your snack?"

Me: "Tell me about what you drew."
Kid: "Well, that's my mommy and those are her boobies."


Me: "So if you had three balloons and I give you another one, how many would you have then?"
Kid: "Probably just two because I'm hard on balloons."

So if you're sending a kid to Kindergarten this year or sometime soon, take notes.  They're damn funny.