Mama Bear Came Out Today

I lost my cool today.

School is closed for a holiday, so I had ALL of my daycare kids here today...including my school-ager, "A".  Most of you already know this, but I'm just going to bite the bullet, risk getting flamed, and put this out there...I cannot stand A.

I love kids, always have.  I love every one of the kids who comes to my daycare and I've loved every one of the kids I've had in daycare centers since I started working right out of college.  But something about A just rubs me the wrong way.  I won't get into specifics here, but suffice it to say my days go a lot more smoothly and are much more enjoyable when he is not here.  I am a happier person and a better daycare provider when he is not here  Which brings me to the reason for this post.

A constantly brings toys from home.  Technically, I don't have a "no toys from home" rule, but I do have a rule about sharing, and that is that all of the kids MUST share all of the toys, whether they are toys they brought from home or toys that were already here.  This goes for Bailey, too, even though most of the toys actually belong to her.  A brought two toys and a Nintendo DS today, and is notorious for not sharing (he's 6 years old, and the babies behave better and are more socially advanced than he is).  I had a talk with him this morning and reminded him that if he was going to play with the toys he brought from home that he was also going to have to share those toys or they would need to be put away.  He knows this rule, it is nothing new to him.

Not five minutes later, I take the toys away because he wouldn't let anyone look at them much less play with them.

The rest of the day goes pretty much as I'd expected it to with him here.  Yes, I was a meanie and I made him take a nap.  After they all woke up from nap and had a snack, he seemed to play fairly well with the other kids.  So when most of the kids had gone home and it was just him, Bailey and one other kid here, I went against my better judgment and let him take the toys out again with the reminder that they be shared.

Of course, Bailey sees the toys and wants to play with them.  They're new, they're cool, and they're much more appealing to her at this point than the same puzzles and books she plays with day in and day out.  She reaches for a toy and I see A start to freak out.  He catches me watching him and gives the toy to Bailey, all fake smiles and sweetness.  They're still playing fine a few minutes later and I've had 3 cups of coffee in 2 hours and needed a bathroom break.  So up I went.

Those of you who know the set-up of our house know that the kids play right in the front room and my bathroom is literally at the top of the stairs.  I closed the baby gate at the bottom of the stairs and left the bathroom door open so I could hear them clearly.  I was gone about 2 minutes (I like to take my time, but I know better than to dilly dally when there are kids downstairs!) and during that time I hear Bailey cry--an angry cry, not a hurt cry.  I finish up and come back downstairs.

Our stairs are carpeted so, even though I wasn't trying to be quiet, A didn't hear me come down the stairs.  I get to our landing just in time to watch him knock Bailey (15 months old and considerably smaller than A) flat on her ass, throw his arm over her chest, pin her to the ground, and yank the toy out of her hand.  she whacked her head on the edge of the wooden toy box on her way down.

I LOST MY SHIT.

I'm not proud to admit this, but I completely lost it. I yelled and I very, very rarely yell when it comes to daycare.  I yelled at him to sit in the chair and that he had to stay there until his dad came to pick him up (in an hour).  I yelled that from now on he would walk in my door in the morning and sit in that chair until it was time to leave for school.  And that when he comes back after school he will sit in that chair until it is time to go home.  I yelled that he is no longer allowed to bring any toys into my house and that he may not play with any of the other toys in this house...all he is allowed to do when he is here is sit in that chair. 

This may seem harsh, but he's only here a total of 2 1/2-3 hours a day, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let him spend that time being nasty to the little ones.  I'll also confess that when I yelled I told him he was a bully and a little punk, and I felt like telling his parents he wasn't allowed to come to my house anymore.  I also yelled that if he EVER touched my daughter again, I'd boot him out of my house so fast his head would spin, and that he absolutely would not be welcome back here.

He couldn't have cared less.  He climbed right up on the chair, refused to look at me, refused to talk to me, and wouldn't apologize to Bailey for treating her like an opponent in the wrestling ring.  As a daycare provider, I'm angry that I have to keep such a close eye on A and that I have to continually remind him of the rules and how to act with the younger kids--he's 6 years old, for goodness sake, and he knows better.  As a mother, I think he's a little shit and if I didn't like his parents so much I'd have booted his punk-ass out of here months ago.

Would I have reacted the same way if he done the same thing to one of the other kids?  Yes.  Would I have been quite as harsh to him if it had been one of the other kids?  Probably not, unless it was Madison.  But he knocked over and was purposely mean to my child.  MY CHILD.  In my home.  And that is not okay.

I'm still shaking and it's been almost an hour.  It literally took everything in me, every fiber of my being, not to hurt him when I watched him do that.  Bailey was scared and confused, and she cried.  She's got a bump on her head and he left a small red mark on her arm where he grabbed her.  This is not the first time he's put his hands on another one of the kids here.

As expected, when his dad picked him up I told him exactly what A did and how I responded.  He just looked at A and said, "Aaaa...that wasn't very nice."  That wasn't very nice?!  You're damn right it wasn't very nice!  I feel like throttling the parent as much as the child at this point.

I am not the kind of parent who thinks that my kid can do no wrong and that she craps rainbows.  In fact, I'm the first person to admit that Bailey can be a punk sometimes.  I get that she's going to fall and get hurt often, and I never freak about it because it happens.  But this was another child, an older and bigger child, hurting her on purpose and I just totally freaked out.  I feel like throttling the parent right now just as much as I'd like to throttle A.  I'm sitting here now, still fully pissed at both the incident and A's father's response to it, and I almost want to call them and say that I will be terminating care for A effective immediately.  I won't do that...but I'd really like to.

Bailey's totally over it now and has probably already forgotten it even happened.  I, on the other hand, will have to restrain myself around A from now on.  He hurt my kid and the mama bear in me came out in full force.   He's lucky there are laws against hurting children right now.

I only wish I had a more uncomfortable place to make him sit from now on.

----------------------------------

For the record, by the time he comes to the door in the morning I will be cool, calm and collected and will be professional in my care.  But for right now, I'm angry and I'm owning it.

Nighttime Magic

It's nights like these that make all my second-guessing and frustration at spending the day with a cranky toddler all worthwhile.

Bailey had been grumpy all day...to the point where I just couldn't take it anymore and put her down for a late afternoon nap just to get a few moments' peace from her constant fussing/screaming every time something didn't go her way, which was seemingly every other minute or so.  She didn't even end up going to sleep, just drank a bottle of milk (yep, at 15 months she's still ONLY drinking her milk from a bottle...can't get her to drink it any other way) and then was ready to come back downstairs and fuss again.  Long story short, it had been a very, very long day.  So when her 7:30 bedtime rolled around, I didn't waste any time putting her to sleep.  I love her to pieces...but I was ready for a break and she very obviously needed her sleep.

We followed the same routine as always: bath, a few minutes of play time while the Goodnight Show is on Sprout, and then bed.  She yelled "Niiiiggghht!" and gave Scott his usual goodnight kiss.  And then, two amazing things happened:

First...she turned around and gave me a goodnight kiss.  ME.  She very rarely gives me a kiss and it's something that weighs heavily on my heart.  I know it's a silly thing to feel upset by, but when I watch her give a kiss to literally everybody else in the room and then turn away when I ask for one...well, it makes me sad.  I hadn't even asked for a kiss, she just turned around in my arms and planted one right on me.  I could have cried...and I almost did.

Which brings me to the second amazing thing she did.  Like always, when Scott kissed her goodnight he said, "I love you, kid".  Bailey looked at him and said, "Love you" so clearly that there was no mistaking that she had said it back. The very first time she said "I love you"!  And, go figure, she says it to Scott.  In any case, it was fantastic and we couldn't stop talking about it after I'd put her to bed.

Magical.

The Crayola Factory

Yesterday, Bailey and I went with Meghan and Madison to the Crayola Factory.  The girls had a blast!  And I managed to get a few cute pictures before my camera died. 

We had fun!  It took us over an hour to get there, though, but it was well worth it to see how much Bailey enjoyed herself.  She got to color and use markers, and at one point she stood in front of this big screen and danced...too, too cute!  We had lunch at the McDonald's inside the Factory and, since Bailey's on a protein strike these days, her lunch consisted of french fries and apple slices.  Nice, right?

Happy Birthday To...

...my brother, TJ!  He turns 22 today and I'm bummed that I won't be there today to celebrate with him, but we'll see him later on tonight.

Happy Birthday, Teej!

Bullying

I watched a show on CBS the other night called "Bullying: Words Can Kill", and I can't get it out of my head.  It seems like every time you turn around these days another kid has committed suicide because of bullying or another video of someone being bullied has been leaked on the internet.  It's great that bullying is getting so much national attention now and that anti-bullying movements are taking place everywhere...but I don't feel like we've made any progress in the years since I was a kid. The news about bullying these days brings me back to my own experience, and I wish that more could be done to put a stop to it today.

I went through 4 years of hell in middle school.  I started 5th grade in a very small Catholic school, and I was the "new kid".  The school was so small, in fact, that I graduated (8th grade) with just 12 people in my entire class.  I'm not going to go into too much detail about my experience, but it was awful.  I was pushed, kicked, spit on, talked about, and mocked on a daily basis.  I used to have such severe anxiety about going to school that I threw up every morning.  I never knew what would set off the bully, and I never knew when it would happen.  I suffered a concussion after being kicked in the head one day.  Another day, I was pushed into a coat hook and ripped fresh stitches (from a mole removal) in my back.  Just ONE person (ironically, the smallest girl in our class) started the bullying and EVERY SINGLE student in my class (and some who weren't even in our class) followed her.  It was hell.

I will never forget going to school the day before I was scheduled to have heart surgery.  I was going to be out of school for a few weeks and was gathering up all my books and assignments to do at home in a large paper bag.  "My" bully walked over to me, ripped the bag holding all my books, and told me she hoped I died on the operating table.

Thanks to my family, I never for even a second, thought about taking my own life like some of the kids we hear about today.  My parents fought like hell to get the bullying to stop, with absolutely no support from anyone in the school.  The principal told my parents that I just needed to grow a thicker skin.  They fought tooth and nail, and did anything they could to make my time in that school better.  (They gave me the opportunity to switch schools when I was in 7th grade, and I stupidly refused).  I credit them and the rest of my family with getting me through those 4 years and helping me become the person I am today.

My experience with bullying in the Catholic school system is the sole reason why I will NEVER put Bailey in Catholic school.  For 4 years, both lay teachers and the nuns looked the other way.  For 4 years they knew what was going on.  For 4 years they saw it happening, they met with my parents on a regular basis, and they did nothing.  Telling a 10-year-old that she just needs to grow thicker skin is NOT a solution to a bullying problem. 

I'm terrified of this when it's time for Bailey to go to school.  I hope and pray that she never goes through what I went through for those 4 years.  That period of time shaped the person I am today.  It made me look at the world a little bit differently than I would have had I not been bullied.  It taught me empathy and to always, always treat others the way I would want to be treated.  It did not teach me to "grow a thicker skin", but I did learn a few things about myself along the way.  I learned that I can survive a seemingly insurmountable situation.  I learned that I am a good person.  I learned that, no matter what I go through in life, I will ALWAYS have my family to help me through it and to "weather the storm" with me.

I hope that by the time Bailey is in school something more has been done to stop bullying in schools.  I know it's a difficult thing to deal with, but I also know that it is absolutely possible to bring light to the situation and to work toward putting a stop to it.

My family always jokes around that Bailey won't take crap from anybody.  In a way, I hope she doesn't and I'm so relieved that she'll stick up for herself when she feels she needs to.  But then I think, will the fact that she doesn't take crap from people turn her into a bully?  How do you help your kids find that middle ground, so that they learn to stick up for themselves but NOT to become the bully?  I hope that when the time comes, we're able to teach Bailey the difference.  I hope that she never has to go through what I went through, and I hope that she stays her sweet self and doesn't let peer pressure turn her into someone she's not.

I feel like I missed out on a big chunk of my childhood because of the years I was bullied.  Will I ever forget my "bullied years"?  No.  Do I forgive the person(s) who bullied me and those who took part in the bullying?  Not completely, but to a certain extent.  But I'm grateful, in a way, because that period of time helped me to become the person I am today.  Because of it, I'm a good friend, a good mother, an empathetic person.  I know what values are important to me, and I can pass them along to my own daughter.  I know that bullying DOES happen, and I know the signs to look for to make sure it doesn't happen to Bailey and that, conversely, she isn't the one bullying another child.

When I hear stories on the news of kids killing themselves (bullycide, they call it) it breaks my heart.  To think of how terrible it must be for these kids, that they think that taking their lives is the only solution to the problem should be a serious wake-up call to all of us.  This should not be happening.

Picture Time

We've been busy over here!  Instead of a long post, I thought I'd post a few more pictures of our little darling (I'm using that term very loosely these days).  She and I went to the park the other day and she had a blast!  Now that she's more confident in her walking and climbing abilities, she was ALL OVER the place.  But I got a few cute pictures out of it...enjoy!

My little gangster

She loves the swings...

But was too busy watching all the kids to look at the camera!

On the run

Chasing the dogs...silly girl thought she could catch them!

When the puppy dog eyes didn't work...

...she tried to some real tears.  NOT happy to be going home.

THESE pictures are to illustrate why Scott is not allowed to dress Bailey.  It was a little chilly the other morning and I asked him to grab a sweatshirt to put over her short sleeve pajama top while I changed her diaper.  When he came downstairs with her, she looked like this:

 Lime green polka dotted pajama shorts, a white pajama top, pink slipper boots and a red/multi-colored knit sweater.  Thank God her hair isn't long enough to do much with...I'm afraid to see what he'd do with THAT!

Recap

Well, Scott's birthday didn't go as planned, but was still enjoyable.  He wanted to go to Friday's for dinner instead of staying home, so we packed Bailey up and went there for dinner.  We had a great meal and dessert, and Bailey was really well-behaved for us.  Then we came home, put her to bed, and just had a relaxing night in.  All in all, a good day!

Bailey has added two new words to her repertoire:  "baby" and "light".  It's so cool to see how excited she gets when she points to something and says the word...she's very proud of herself!

Last night, Bailey and I went with Meghan, Madison and my mom to a consignment sale.  I love, love, love the consignment sales!  Most of the clothes there are close to brand new and such great prices!  I got Bailey's Halloween costume there and stocked up on some winter pajamas and a few outfits for fall/winter.  The shoe selection wasn't all that great, but I did get her a pair of black mary jane's for church, and I'm heading back this weekend to scope out the toys and strollers and see what I can find.

I feel like the weeks are just flying by these days and before we know it, it will be Halloween!  It went from pretty hot yesterday to cold today, and it's really starting to feel like Fall.  I absolutely can't wait for that...it's my favorite season and Scott and I are really looking forward to taking Bailey to pumpkin farms and Linvilla Orchards.  Soon enough!

Bananas!

Just a quick post between chasing Bailey around and getting dinner ready!

Bailey made her first REAL word association this afternoon and I'm so proud of her!  I say "real" because she says "daddy" and knows that it means Scott and she says "mom" for me.  But she's never said any other words and shown an understanding of what they mean without being prompted first.  But she did it today!

I started dinner in the kitchen and she followed me in there.  She was playing with Cooper for a bit and then she walked over to the counter, pointed to a bunch of bananas and said, "Nana!  Nana!"  She knew what they were!  I asked her if she wanted a banana and she said, "Peas! (please)".  I'm so proud of her!  She's really starting to grasp language!

Which means that I'll have to start cleaning up my own language...the last thing I need is her walking around the house muttering "shit" because she heard me say it earlier.

On a completely unrelated note, tomorrow is Scott's birthday!  He'll be 29 this year and, even though he'll never admit it, I know he looks forward to his birthday every year...much like a child does.  :-)

He's stuck working all day and he's got football at night, so my plan is to wake up early tomorrow morning and make him breakfast (eggs, toast, fruit and coffee) in bed.  I'll pack him a lunch, then make a nice dinner and a cake for when he comes home.  Yes, you read that right.  I'll be baking a cake...a spice cake, no less!  Check back later in the week to see how it came out!

I'm off now to finish dinner...as soon as I pull Bailey off the table she's figured out how to climb onto.  Speaking of bananas...

Until next time!

Ten Years Later

9.11.01 is a date that will forever be stamped on the hearts and minds of Americans as a day that will live in infamy...the day we were attacked...the day we all stood, united, as one.

I'm watching the live September 11th ceremony on tv right now, and I still can't believe that it's been ten years since the attack.  I can't believe that, after all these years, the emotions are still there and still so strong and so raw.  Someone said a few days ago that, for my generation, this will be like the day JFK was assassinated in that we will all remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when we got the news of the attack.

On September 11, 2001 I was a senior in high school.  I was sitting with my friends in my Journalism class and our teacher had the classroom television on.  We saw the first plane hit the north tower of the World Trade Center and I remember being confused and wondering if this was a movie.  Then the newscasters began speculating that a small aircraft had accidentally flown into the tower.  I remember a few of my classmates making jokes about how stupid the person flying that plane must have been to not have seen a tower so tall.  A few minutes later, when the second plane struck the south tower, things erupted.  Our teacher shushed all of us students and the classroom fell into absolute and deafening silence while the newscasters began reporting what we were seeing.  I kept hearing, "That was no accident, we're under attack!"


A lot of my memory of that day is fuzzy.  I was 17 years old and didn't fully grasp the magnitude and the importance of what was happening at that moment.  I remember leaving school early, calling my boyfriend from the school parking lot to try and figure out what was going on.  I remember being at home with my mom and watching the coverage on tv.  It didn't matter that day what channel you turned on--every station was covering the attack.  I distinctly remember seeing the smoke and the flames coming from the towers.  I can still see the large dark specks falling from the sky and I can hear my mom saying, "Oh my God, those are people...they're JUMPING out the windows."  It was horrifying.  All these years later, the picture of those people jumping is still burned into my brain.


More news was coming in every minute, and we learned that another plane had struck the Pentagon.  That yet another plane had crashed when the passengers  fought their hijackers and refused to allow them to win.  That both the north and the south towers of the World Trade Center had fallen.  In a matter of hours, everything changed for us.  In all, more than 2,900 Americans died that day.


Ten years later, we are still rebuilding at ground zero.  The New York City skyline is completely changed.  We still gather every year to honor those who lost their lives on September 11, 2001.  We now have a new memorial to commemorate the lives lost.


Right now, I'm watching the reading of the names of those people who died that day.  I'm listening to their family members tell short anecdotes and say goodbye yet again.  I hear the sadness in their voices and I see the raw grief on their faces that hasn't faded, even after ten years, and I honestly cannot imagine what it must have been like to lose someone close to me that day.  Fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, aunts, uncles...the sheer number of people who were affected that day and every day since is astounding. Hearing some of their stories affects me in a visceral way and I feel their loss and their grief very deeply.


As with all things these days, I wonder how I'll explain this to Bailey when she's old enough to understand and ask questions about it.  I wonder if it will affect her the way it's affected me or if, to her, it will be a somewhat distant part of the past.  Something that happened long before she was born, much like the assassination of JFK for me.  I hope that I can explain it to her in a way that honors the memory of those who fought and died that day.  I hope I'm able to convey the importance of that day to her, that I can talk to her about it without making her fearful or timid.


Ten years ago, our country was devastated.  It seemed an almost impossible feat from which to recover.  Today, ten years later, it's still devastating.  But we're rebuilding.  We continue to honor those who perished that day.  We continue to wave our flags and to feel pride in our country.  And we'll continue to do this for as long as it takes.

"Now, we have inscribed a new memory alongside those others.  It's a memory of tragedy and shock, of loss and mourning.  It's also a memory of bravery and self-sacrifice, and the love that lays down its life for a friend--even a friend whose name it never knew."                             

   -- President George W. Bush, December 11, 2001