Preschool woes

We put Jack in preschool a year ahead of schedule. We knew that he knew enough academically but we wanted to really help him from a social standpoint. He always enjoyed being with adults and being the center of attention, but would clam up when around large groups of kids. We thought that by forcing him into these situations, he would really mature socially. Though he cried the first few days, he seemed pretty happy. In playdates he was warming up more quickly and when I accompanied Jack to the school's holiday party in December, I was excited to see this little boy barge into the room, happily greeting people. When I spoke with his teacher, she mentioned that he had really been improving and called it "heartwarming." When I asked her if Jack talked her ear off, she smiled and nodded her head knowingly.

Last week, I had to take a day off of school to complete some testing for grad school. It was a Thursday and I was excited to be able to take Jack to school myself. We arrived and he showed me where to hang his backpack. His teacher then approached me to tell me about a few concerns regarding Jack. Apparently she has some concerns about Jack's social and verbal development. She claimed that he was acting like he couldn't do tasks and was acting confused. In addition, instead of conversing with the other kids, he would just repeat what they said back.

I left pretty concerned. Not that I really thought something was wrong with him.--at home we can't get him to shut up. The kid kicks me out of the bathroom to wash his hands in private yet acts like he's never done it before at school. But I was concerned that he wasn't having a good time. I thought about it all weekend and called his teacher the following Monday to discuss some of my theories. She was quick to interrupt and get a little defensive. When I made reference to him being more passive, she told me he was very happy and comfortable. I was a bit confused from all of the mixed messages. According to the teacher, he is doing great academically. Yet how would she know this if he didn't talk. He was happy and comfortable, yet wouldn't talk to anyone. His teacher told me she would send home a list of the benchmarks and indicate the ones Jack needed work on.

Imagine my surprise when her concerns included him not knowing 5-50 words or being able to express himself or being able to follow simple directions. This is the same kid who, when I asked him if he was my boy, said, "Actually, I am." Something just doesn't make sense. So now I'm half defensive and half bewildered but with no real way to help him improve. I thought of every possible scenario: he's bored (how could he be bored, he doesn't know anything), he's not getting enough one on one attention, something happened with one of the kids, etc. I was convinced we should switch schools. I vacilated between thinking my instincts were correct and thinking I could practically hear my rotor blades cutting through the wind.

In the end, we have decided to switch schools. I am not saying that anything is wrong with the school he is in but, clearly, it just isn't working for him. He has never once come home excitedly talking about something that went on at school. And this is the kid who gets excited about everything and remembers everything! He still tells us how fun the harbor by my parents' house is. Hopefully we'll find something that is a better fit. At the very least, however, we will see if this behavior continues at a new school . In the meantime, I hope that his excellent memory forgets the fact that he was in the room when I debated w/ Paul as to whether this uncharacteristic behavior is the product of a crazy teacher or an environment issue. Let's just hope Jack doesn't pick tomorrow to reveal his verbal talents by telling everyone that, "Miss Nancy is smoking the crack pipe."

The first day she told me that he w

Shoes

With this uncharacteristically warm weather, I realized that the kids need some shoes that won't make their feet sweat off. I took the kids to Kohls today and picked up a pair of sandals for Jack and gym shoes with open slits for both of them. I absolutely fell in love with Dani's. They are blue and sporty but with traces of pink that add just a touch of "girly"--so perfectly Dani. When we got home, I had to share them with Daddy. I put them on her and she looked adorable. When I put her down, she stared at her shoes with her arms out to the side and started to whine. It then became clear that she was afraid of them--afraid to walk and afraid to look at them because they weren't the typical white shoes she was used to. Eventually she took a few steps but didn't seem fully comfortable. Let's just hope she gets over it. It would do a lot of damage to her rough and tumble image if she was afraid of her own shoes.

Yuck!

Before I had kids, I thought bodily functions were gross. It's not that I find them ungross now, it's just that I've gotten kind of immune to them when they involve my children. If you are not immune, you might not want to read any further.

In the middle of the night, Jack needed a diaper change. Paul took care of it but a short while later, he was still rustling around. I went upstairs and he informed me that he needed to be more throughly cleaned. (He didn't say it that way.) I brought him downstairs and took care of everything but I was concerned that he may have put his hands down in that area and that he might need a handwashing.

Me: Jack, did you put your hands down your pants?
Jack: No, I didn't.
Me: You didn't?
Jack: No, I put my hand in my nose.
Me: Why?
Jack: Because I had a boogie.
Me: Oh. Do you still?
Jack: No. I took it out.
Me: Where did you put it?
Jack: Um. . . I squeezed it.

At the moment I don't know where it is but I'm pretty sure I don't want to find it.

Back Pain. But Happy.

I have a bad back. A bad back that is made worse by schlepping around kids who still want to be picked up and held from time to time. Every once and while it really flares up bad and I feel miserable. Today, Paul was massaging my shoulders and working some kinks out and I was yelling out in pain. Jack was pretty curious as to what we were doing. He came over to me and stood in front of me and asked, "Mommy, are you happy?" A short while and several groans of pain later, Jack came back around an asked, "Mommy? Do you want to be happy?"

I'll be happy when my 20+ lb daughter decides she'd rather walk than have me schlepp her around everywhere!