When your daily activities are in concert with your highest priorities, you have a credible claim to inner peace. – Hyrum Smith


2/11/10

Preschool - Take 2

Remember when I yelled at Parker about how he wasn't getting into preschool because he didn't know how to share?

Sharing might be the least of his worries...Today we went to interview another preschool. I just wanted a frame of reference. I swear I'm not one of those crazy moms who will stop at nothing to find and enroll her 3 year old in the perfect school. Anyway, today I had Maddie with me, too. In hindsight, perhaps that was a bad idea...

Parker was in his element. He jumped right into the activities, lined up when it was time to switch rooms, attempted to sing the songs they sang, clutched a discarded Valentine as if it were his own (and tried to convince the teacher it was), introduced himself to any child or adult who would listen (today he was "Peddy" or Penny from the Fireman Sam show), etc. He was doing really well. Then he announced he was ready to leave. I explained I need to talk to the director for a few minutes.

She took us to an empty classroom where she directed him to some toys. I was trying to watch Maddie, redirect Parker (who decided the scissors and paint were much more interesting than toys) and ask some well-informed questions. Yeah, right.

It quickly became the one-man circus. Parker started throwing small, metal toy cars across the room. The director firmly told him that one of the Cardinal rules of preschool is that, "We don't throw toys." She asked him to pick them up. He attempted to talk his way out of it. She (and I) insisted. He made it halfway across the room where he got distracted by some balls (which he threw across the room in the opposite direction). This went on and on. He'd start to put something away, run in circles, throw toys...


The director said that parents were allowed to volunteer anytime they'd like, "But you'll probably just want to drop him off, right?" (Please note: emphasis added to highlight my oversensitivity.)

I decided this would be a good time to ask about their discipline techniques. Based on her response, it just didn't sound like they'd seen the likes of Parker before. Parker continued to throw toys (though by now I was down on my hands and knees, in his face, "helping" him put them away). I decided it was time for us to go.

"NOOOOOO!" Suddenly the flailing began. Maddie joined in. I grabbed the diaper bag, Maddie's stinky bear (don't leave home without it), Parker's jacket, and picked up Maddie. I thanked the director for her time and told Parker to follow me. He rolled on the floor, screaming, [crocodile] tears rolling, insisting he couldn't put his boots on by himself. I'm pretty sure the director could see the steam coming out of my ears.

By the time they were both strapped into their car seats, I was a mess. I haven't checked my paperwork yet, but I wouldn't be surprised if they accidentally omitted the enrollment form.

1 comment:

  1. oh no! Jessie that sounds just awful... but, at the same time, the perfect story to reflect the reality of life right now! maybe someday you'll re-read this and laugh?!?? or at least chuckle, maybe... ;)

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