Month: August 2006

Holding pattern

School starts tomorrow. Am I ready? Are the kids ready? Will this be a good year for them? Will it be a good year for me? I’m honestly not sure how to answer any of these questions. As I mentally review the personalities of my kids and thier particular challenge sets I see so many places that things could get bad. I also see so many places where things could go really right.

Today I go to an open house where I get to meet Link’s teacher and Gleek’s teacher. More information is a good thing. Unfortunately that doesn’t happen until after 4 pm. I need to fill the rest of the day with useful things rather than with waiting for the open house to begin.

I’ve been in a holding pattern for much of the last week. There wasn’t much on the schedule except waiting for school to begin. Tomorrow the waiting is over.

Viewpoints

Today I took Patches to his first ever Gym class. He was uncertain about going and so I scheduled my time so I could stay and be with him if he needed me. He needed me for the first 5 minutes. Then he needed me briefly near the end when he was sad. Other than that he mostly ignored me in the parents waiting area. I’m glad because it means that next week I can go run a few errands while he has his class.

Sitting in the waiting room was interesting because I got to eavesdrop on the conversations of other moms who were watching thier kids in Patches class. In particular I listened to two women. For both of them the 3 year old was their oldest child. They were both obviously pregnant. One had two kids the other had three. I listened to them discussing behaviors and potty training and I remembered being them. I remember being stress about the things that they were stressing over. I remember being buried under the needs of multiple young children. It seems odd that I’ve moved beyond that. Now in conversations about toddler behavior I get to be the voice-of-experience rather than the frustrated/stressed seeker-of-answers. When did that happen? I also wonder what, of the things I am thoroughly stressed about right now, will seem like no big deal in a few more years.

Gleek also attended her gymnastics class today. She last took a gym class when she was Patches age. I was amazed at the behavioral difference a couple of years can make. She did much better at following instructions and staying with the group. And when it came time to leave I didn’t have to physically grab her and carry her to the car. I think Little Gym is going to be good for all of us.

Tomorrow Kiki and Link have thier classes. The day after that is the first day of school. The summer has finally wound down to a close. Only the weather doesn’t seem to know it. It was over 90 degrees out today. Tomorrow is supposed to be hotter. Tell me again why I should be buying sweaters for back to school clothes?

Patches the Pizza Man.

This morning had a cheerful beginning. Patches had crawled into bed with me at some point during the night and we both woke up at about the same time. It was a perfect opportunity for snuggly giggles, so we had some. Then we got up and headed downstairs for breakfast. We ordered pizza last night so that the boys would have something special since the girls got to go camping and make dutch oven pizza. I’d put away the left over pizza, but left the boxes out on the table. Patches saw the boxes and announced “Pizza!” He pulled the coupon sheet off the top of the box and studied the picture of pizza on it. He then walked over to the fridge where we have a Pizza Hut magnet. He pointed to the magnet, then to the flyer in his hand. “Pizza and pizza. There are two pizzas!” He held up two little fingers to emphasize his point.

We had leftover pizza for breakfast, which made us both happy.

After breakfast Patches wandered off to play and I wandered into my office to fill some book orders. Right now the process of fulfilling orders requires both my old machine and my new one. It’s a newly complex process and I was pretty focused. Patches appeared at my elbow. He had in his hands a small stack of little papers. They were the little white tabs which go inside binder separators. Apparently Kiki had some left over yesterday. I’m not sure whether Kiki gave them to Patches or whether he appropriated them, but he treasured this little stack of papers all day yesterday. This morning he informed me that he was a pizza man and the little papers were pizza orders. He was ready to go to his friend next door and play. I was distracted and not ready to walk him over, so I told him that he had to get dressed first. He accepted that and went off to play again.

I was deep in the printing of invoices when Patches appeared at my elbow again. This time he had a full set of clothes in addition to his pizza orders. I helped him change. Once dressed, Patches reiterated his request to go to his friend’s house. I figured that he’d earned it. So Patches the pizza man clutched his little stack of “pizza orders” and went to ring his friend’s doorbell. The friend was still in pajamas and couldn’t play yet, but this did not dent Patches’ irrepressably good mood. Instead he took his “pizza orders” and started back home. Every few steps he stopped to jump over or dodge an invisible obstacle. Sometimes there were shooting noises as well. A whole adventure happened in the space of two driveways and one short front walk. Apparently Patches is not just any pizza man. He is more akin to the Pizza Deliverator from Neal Stephanson’s Snow Crash.

We came home and I began this blog. I can still hear Patches over my head running from kitchen to living room and back. Apparently pizza delivery has never been so exciting as it is today.

The next day

Today was better.

A mouse obligingly died in one of the traps. But I still hear skittering, so there are more mice for me to catch.

My new computer arrived. I’ve got most of my settings and files moved over with a few critical gaps. I may have to bite the bullet and upgrade Quicken and Quickbooks. Software that is 5 or 6 years old starts being unsupported.

Kiki and Gleek ran off with Howard for a daddy/daughter campout. It has been a nice quiet evening with half as many kids around. I intended to spend most of it with the boys, but lots of it went into computer stuff. I did help them make smores in the microwave though. Hopefully that was enough to help them be happy about not getting to camp.

The big grumpiness from me continued today. Not sure why I’m so grouchy. Could be that Howard has been so incredibly busy. Could be me needing more breaks from the kids. Could be the huge messes that I find every time I turn around. Just this last week I found that some kids had made bird’s nests out of cut grass in the middle of a bedroom floor. The dried grass was then kicked all over the room and mixed with dirty clothes, clean clothes, books, yarn, toys, more yarn, and some TV tables. It was a truly amazing mess.

Of course some of the over-powering mess is a result of the fact that I was siezed by a story this week and I had to get it written before it got away from me.

I really want a break. I want to take a day and go do something with no kids. The first window of opportunity for that will be in two weeks after Howard has finished his pre-world-con crunch and has recovered from his post world-con crash. Also my parents are going to come and visit then. I’ll bet I can get them to babysit while I run off for a day. Grandparents like to do that kind of thing.

Things I am tired of

I am tired of my computer terrifying me with new and unusual noises. My new computer should arrive tomorrow and then the reign of terror will be over. Hopefully then I’ll be back to blogging in a relaxed state rather than listening for the impending death of my machine and saving every two seconds.

I am tired of having to be super wonderful extra nice mom at bedtime. Can’t they just go to bed?

I am tired of the mouse that keeps skittering across my kitchen floor and ignoring the traps I’ve conveniently set up for it to die in.

I am tired of dishes.

I am tired of messes.

I am tired of laundry.

I am tired of weeds.

I am tired of the summer schedule. I want school to start so that my kids will stop being so bored that they entertain each other by picking fights.

I am tired of fights.

I am tired of being irrationally grouchy over every little thing that happened today.

At least that last one I have some control over. I’m going to bed now. Tomorrow will be better.

Tackling the system

This morning I went to Link’s school to discuss his class placement. He wanted a male teacher, I felt like it would be a good thing. Last spring I put in a request to that effect. Last week I found that he’d been assigned to a female teacher rather than the male teacher in his grade. I really needed to understand why my request was ignored and I needed to understand how this whole class selection process works.

I prepared in advance for this meeting. I dressed nicely on purpose because appearances matter. I wanted to walk into the meeting and send a message that I was a competant, caring parent who honestly wanted to understand. I also wanted to send the message that I truly value the administrator’s proffessional input. I went in person because I wanted to stand out from the throng of parents who were submitting written requests for changing their child’s placement. I very definitely did not want to start a war over this. I’m going to have to work with these teachers and administrators for another 10 years. I don’t want them labelling me as a problem parent because I may require their help in the future. The time may come for me to start a war, this issue may be the cause for which I start the war, but I don’t want to arrive with guns blazing when diplomacy might gain my point.

So, in a very careful frame of mind I went into the meeting. I learned several things both good and bad. First I learned that Link’s scheduled teacher is young, female, and very energetic. The male teacher for that grade is soft spoken. This information caused me to re-evaluate my request. Link has responded to energetic male teachers and his female teachers have all been soft-spoken. I think that the energetic/soft-spoken dynamic is more important than the male/female dynamic. Link needs an energetic teacher, one he can’t tune out. I’d love for the teacher to be male and energetic, but that isn’t an option for this year. It turns out that he already has the best placement possible. I declined to move him.

I knew walking in that class placement is a highly charged issue. I met with both the principal and the placement administrator. I could tell that they were prepared for a battle. They’ve fought battles before. They have to deal with hostile parents every single year. I could see that they were trying to be open and helpful, but they were ready to entrench and defend if necessary. Once they realized that I had no intention of going ballistic, they went beyond the call of duty. The placement administrator went to the point of walking me down to Link’s future classroom and showing me how it was being set up. The administrators really do care for the welfare of the children, but they also have to defend themselves and their system from aggressive parents. Sometimes parents interpret this as caring for the system more than the kids.

The bad things I learned were about the system itself. I placed a request last May. By the time I was allowed to place that request classes had already been assigned. Class lists were set last May, but no one would tell any parents what they were until August. This morning I got to see the request sheet. My request was near the bottom of the list and dated for July. I turned it in in May, it must have gotten lost somehow. The administrator hastened to assure me that my request had not been ignored. She really didn’t like me using the word ‘ignored.’ She informed me that none of the requests had been considered yet. I let this tidbit pass without comment, but I wonder why they bother to allow requests at all if they won’t be considered until after class lists are published? The answer is that they don’t like to allow parent requests. Parent requests create lots of administrative problems and extra work. But they also can’t exclude parents entirely, so they have a week were placement requests are allowed. This allows parents to feel that they are doing something, but the request may or may not have any effect on class placement depending on space, move outs, move ins, and other factors.

Another disturbing thing is that I am unable to find anyone who takes responsiblity for assigning the teacher my son got. Last year’s teacher implied that it was done by computer. I know that the teachers at each grade level have a meeting about placements, but last year’s teacher didn’t know anything about the teachers for the next grade level because they were all new. How are they supposed to make considered placements that way? Can it really be called a placement meeting when what the teachers are really doing is merely tweaking a computer generated list? The administrators imply that class placement is based on this placement meeting, but the teachers I’ve talked to imply that the placement is based on an administrator list. Everyone implies that someone else is in charge. I wonder if no one is really in charge or if they are all trying to be professionally courteous and not give parents anyone to specifically attack. I would be much happier if I believed that someone at the school was really looking at the needs of my son and making a considered decision about which class he should be in for the next year. I don’t feel like that is happening. I got lucky this year, at least I hope I did. This is not my year to go to battle, but I won’t be forgetting what I’ve learned about the system.

Actions and consequences

Regular perusers of my journal will by now have realized that Gleek has entered a challenging phase. “Challenging” is being used as a verb not an adjective. She is challenging my authority. She is challenging the family rules. She is trying to see how far rules can be made to bend to suit her whims.

Today she told me an outright lie. She and her friend asked for a marker. I told them “No” since the last three times they’d had a marker it had resulted in massive amounts of body art on Gleek, recoloring the playset purple, and coloring the neighbor’s toddler’s ears completely purple and yellow. Yes, the entire ear, on both ears, one yellow, one purple. I don’t get it either. No more markers for these two. A very short time after my refusal to provide a marker, Gleek and her friend announced their intention to return to his house. Gleek announced this by saying “I’m going to M’s house! I don’t have a marker!” This made me very suspicious. I was even more suspicious when she didn’t want to let me get close to her. She had a marker concealed up her pants leg. I sent the friend home and told Gleek she couldn’t play with friends for the rest of the day.

She took the restriction pretty well. We found other things for her to do. Then when bedtime rolled around I left Gleek and Patches eating a snack while I went to the bathroom. When I returned they were gone. I called. I checked all the rooms. Twice. I called some more. I checked the front yard. I was ready to start knocking on neighbor’s doors. I wasn’t scared yet, but I was getting mad. Howard joined the search. He was the one who found them. In the family room. Hiding under blankets. and giggling.

Howard scolded them severely. This made Patches howl in fear. He isn’t used to getting scolded. The scolding seemed to bounce right off of Gleek. But it didn’t bounce off completely, because after all the scolding was over (I contributed some too,) the two of them curled up on the couch with me for snuggling and reassurance. Gleek informed me: “Daddy used his ultra voice.”

Indeed he did.

Victory!

I claim a victory in the Battle of the Bedtime. I confess I cheated, but I still won. At 7 pm I took all four of my kids on a walk. I was the only one walking, everyone else had wheeled vehicles, but they were muscle powered an thus still tiring. Only Patches rolled in effortless splendor in his stroller. It was a long walk. They were all glad to get back home and put the bikes away. When I put Gleek to bed I checked back in 10 minutes and she was out. This is a major improvement over last night where she was awake for 90 minutes after I put her to bed. Link went to sleep quickly. Patches struggled a little bit. He really wanted to go sleep in my bed, but Howard had already crashed for the night. Besides Patches needs to be sleeping in his own bed, that’s why we have it. This only leaves Kiki awake, she’s next on my list.

Then I need to go to bed too. Because I can’t win tomorrow night’s Battle of the Bedtime unless I make all the kids get up at a reasonable hour.

sleepcharts again

Bedtime struggles continue, but I now suspect that at least part of the problem is biorythmic rather than behavioral. Kids only need so many hours of sleep at night and if I’m letting them sleep in until 9 am (or later,) they won’t be sleepy at bedtime. So I’ve printed out some charts so that I can track sleep patterns for my kids. Hopefully the act of keeping track will help me adjust the schedules so that we’re better prepared for school to start in just over a week.

The Carrot and The Stick

Tonight I’m thinking of another donkey. This one doesn’t have a story really, not like the other one. This one is just stubborn. There are two ways to get the donkey to move. One is to hang a carrot in front of it, thus enticing it to move forward. The other is to threaten it with a stick so that it moves to avoid pain. These same motivational strategies will work on people too. It’s just that for people you don’t usually employ actual carrots or sticks.

Monday’s confrontation with Gleek did not solve the bedtime problem. We have continued to have nightly struggles with keeping her in bed. Tonight she and I discussed it, she told me she would be good, I said “remember” right as I walked out the door. Within 3 minutes she was out of bed and opening her door. The agreed upon consequence for breaking bedtime rules is that I take her security blanket. I had to do it last night and was then awakened at 2 am by a disoriented and inconsolable Gleek sleepwalking to find her blanket. Not something to which I wanted I want to subject either of us again. But she’d been out of bed. So I took the blanket and told her that if she could lie very still for 10 minutes, I would bring it back. She lay very still. She lay so still that she was asleep before the time was up.

Aha! I think. Finally something that works.

It works because there was a carrot. I’ve been trying to solve this problem with applications of bigger, scarier sticks. Not once have I introduced a reward for good behavior. DOH!

Lying still in a dark room with no people in it, is torture to Gleek. It is so much like torture that the only sticks which might outweigh it are the big ugly ones that I won’t use. All I need to do is find a stick-and-carrot combination that is sufficiently motivating for her. Emphasis on the carrots.