Sandra Tayler

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

I read a story today about a man who gave a donkey to his friend. He assured the friend that the donkey was very well behaved, he only had to whisper in the donkey’s ear and it would do what it was asked. The friend took the donkey for two days and then brought it back. He couldn’t get it to do anything. The man offered to show the friend how it was done. He took a wooden stick and whacked the donkey on the nose, then whispered in it’s ear.
“I thought you said all I had to do was whisper.” Said the friend.
“Well, yeah, but first you have to get it’s attention.”

I’m feeling great affinity for that story after managing Gleek today. She is a wonderful, sweet little girl. I can ask her to do things and she will do them gladly. But often I have to metaphorically whack her on the nose to get her attention first. Sometimes that means a major confrontation in which I have to find the right lever to apply. I don’t have as many levers as I would like because she is so happy go lucky about almost everything.

I have been having a terrible time getting her to bed lately. I’ll tuck her into bed. She’ll object about my departure. Then all will be silent for an hour. I’ll send Kiki to bed only to discover that Gleek is not asleep at all. Gleek is wide awake playing in her bed. That is a major problem because shutting those two into a room together is a recipe for a fight. I need a way to make Gleek stop keeping herself awake. If she lies still for 5 minutes she is out like a light. I have scowled. I have scolded. I have confiscated her lamp. I have confiscated toys. I have given detailed instructions about what she should do, which she ignored. She was willing to live with all of that. Each night she claimed to be sorry, and she probably was, but not sorry enough to remember it the next night. Tonight I warned her and then confiscated her security blanket. She imediately let forth a litany of “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

I let her feel upset for awhile until she started saying things like “everyone badons [abandons] me. Now even my family badons me.” People believe the stories they tell themselves. Gleek was telling a story about being a victim. I couldn’t let that continue. I went in and talked to her about choices and consequences. And how “I’m sorry” doesn’t mean anything unless you stop doing the thing you are appologizing for. She listened and I think she finally heard. She met my eyes and promised never to break the bedtime rules again. I believed in her sincerity and returned her blankets.

Hopefully she will remember this tomorrow night and she will stop pushing the limits in this direction. It is too much to hope for that she’ll stop pushing limits completely. I figure I’ve got another couple of months before this pushing phase is past for awhile.