Transitions and Failure

Well I won't be getting any Mother of the Year awards this week/month/year!  

It's been a hard couple of weeks for Tate.  And me.  The week of Memorial Day I had to work all four days (to make up for being off!!), so Grandmommy took Tate to his last swim lessons of that session that Friday.  I picked him up from daycare around 3:30 with great sadness as the following Monday my sweet 3 year old was moving up to the pre-k class (I have no idea why they moved the kids at the beginning of the summer; I was quite distressed about it).  He was a in classroom with 5 kids.  Just five.  I had been ruminating about how this was going to be a tough transition for him....moving into a class of about 14 kids!  And he loves, loves, loves Ms. Joanie (pronounced Jo-Annie).  He loves her.  And she loves him.  She has taken amazing care of my sweet boy.  I'll be the first to admit; I was so worried when he moved to her class last fall.  Ms. Joanie is very quiet, very shy, very unassuming.  She never spoke to me when I would come and go;  her class was right next to his previous class...they shared one huge room.  I was so worried he wouldn't connect with her and that I wouldn't connect with her.  I could not have been more wrong.  Tate has blossomed under her sweet, gentle care.  She's a beautifully strong Christian woman who does her job and does it well and cares for the children.  So I was as heartbroken as he was to see him move up and move up earlier than I anticipated.

Last day in Ms. Joanie's class at pickup time!

So that was Tate's last Friday with Ms. Joanie.  Of course we then had a short 2 day weekend (I know! I know!  I'm blessed to have 3 day weekends most of the time!  I know!).  We had houseguests in the manner of my sister and one of her besties and her sweet 15 month old daughter.  Tate was a maniac the entire weekend!  Running around, pushing sweet R around, not wanting to share AT.ALL.  Just pure craziness.  And so out of character for him.  I've never seen him so damn busy.  Moving constantly.  Thank goodness my sister took him for the day on Saturday to go to the Children's Museum with her bestie, little R and another friend and her 15 month old daughter.  I pitied Lindsey, but knew she could handle it.    By Sunday night I was just exhausted.

Then Monday rolled around.  I had been talking to Tate for a couple of weeks telling him he was going to be in Ms. Melissa's class soon (she had actually been his teacher from 20-26 months of age) and that there would be more kids in his class, but that all his friends were coming with him.  He seemed amenable.  Monday morning at breakfast I told him 'You're going to Ms. Melissa's class this morning, ok?'  He said ok.

I left for school early and also texted my office manager to tell her I would be late as I anticipated a few tears.

I was right.

He ran down the hall like he does every morning to help me put his stuff away.

And ran straight into Ms. Joanie's room.

Sigh.

I had to coax him out while he whined and sobbed 'nooooo'.

We put his stuff in Ms. Melissa's room and made our way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. (we always brush teeth at school)

He clung and clung to me.  My poor sweet boy.  The young woman who's going to be teaching with Ms. Melissa in the fall (she's with the school-agers for the summer) told Tate 'Now Tate, no more letting Mom pick you up...you're in pre-k now)  Um well I picked him up like I always do :)

He cried and boo-hooed.  He wanted me to walk him over there, over here, to the potty.  Sigh.  I finally convinced him to go play with some of the girls as the boys who were already there were playing rougher than Tate likes and they were all 4 and older...his little buddies had yet to arrive.

Thank goodness M arrived!
She's one of his five classmates!

You can't see Tate, but he's hidden
behind the girls trying to avoid his
new class!

A watery smile.  And there's his classmate M on the far right!!

And then he napped.  The entire two hours.  Thus going to bed was a nightmare.  He seemed no worse for the wear when I picked him up though that evening.  But the next morning at breakfast he told me..

"I'm going back to Ms. Joanie's class today, right?"

No sweetheart.

The rest of the week went like that with the exception that drop-off was a bit easier each day.  It certainly didn't help that his best friend wasn't there until Wednesday.

But some new behaviors are cropping up.  He's been hitting and pinching one of his little friends and been in time out because of it.  He's talking back to me and not listening. At. All.  Nighttime is a mess because he napped every day except Thursday, so he was up until 9 and 9:30 which only served to annoy me greatly because I was exhausted....we have been absolutely swamped at work.  I'm almost seeing double I'm so run ragged.  I'm always amazed by all these parents who say they can't wait to drop their kids off at daycare and get to work to get a break.  Hmph.  I dread going into work because there is no such break.  In any event, I've been short and snappish and not in the mood to deal with a kid who's riled up at 830pm!  Thankfully he does usually stay in bed, so that helps.  I put him down around 815, but feel really bad that he tosses and turns for almost an hour.  But I need some rest or at least time to get ready for the next day.

Then Thursday evening he told me he cried alot that day and that he didn't go to gymnastics with everyone or some such business.  Now the gymnastics class is something I pay for as an extra-curricular activity, so ummmm no that is not something I'm ok with, him not going for what someone else considers bad behavior.  But then he told me he did go.  I was thoroughly confused.  He went on and on about how he cried alot and that Ms. Donnika had been mean to him.  Sigh.  

The next day (Friday, yesterday) we went to swim lessons.  I had signed Tate up for a gymnastics camp at a little gymnastics place by our house (totally separate and different from the class at school).  It was to be his first ever drop-off event.  And he wasn't going to know a soul.  Heck I didn't know a soul.  This was hard, hard, hard for me.  But I want to get him out of having to go to daycare every single day of the summer.  And the only way to do that is to put him in little camps off and on all summer, but we're not going to know anyone usually.  I knew it would be hard for my soft-hearted little guy, but I thought he would be up for the challenge, and worse comes to worse we find out he didn't like it and we don't return.

But I decided to run by the school and see what had really happened.

Turns out Tate had scratched and pinched young Christian.  Again.  So was put in time out.  Now I'm not sure if he's really pinching if his behavior with me this weekend is any indication...cause he uses his fingernails to 'tickle', but it scratches way more.  And the two of them are fighting apparently.  Seemingly in good fun, but they are not allowed to do so...thank goodness!!!  Then Ms. Donnika had told Tate good morning and he wouldn't respond.  Now I know my Tate;  when he's unsure or feels scared he is not going to respond.  And I know this.

I know this.

But I pushed him as well when she kept repeating it when I dropped him off Thursday morning.  I had also mentioned the day before to her that he will be getting tested in the early fall for elementary schools and the kids need to be able to greet the adults properly.

Well apparently he wouldn't respond after I left either.  And this went on.  And then upset him. To the point of tears and big upset.

My poor boy.

I plan on talking to Ms. Donnika again on Monday and trying to explain Tate needs a gentler way of learning.  Barking at him until he does something he truly feels he can't do isn't going to help him.  Just in the past 3-4 weeks has he started saying "I love you" after I say "I love you".  I was so sad that Tate never said "I love you."  I think I had heard it maybe once or twice spontaneously, but never after I said it.  I got alot of 'thank yous' after I told him I love you.  Sigh.  So I started saying "I love you" and following up with "What are you supposed to say now?"  And lo and behold the very first time he said "I love you?"  And I said yes.  For about 6 weeks every time I said "I love you" I had to ask "What are you supposed to say now?"  And he would say it.  Sometimes he'd reach up and hug me to do it, or kiss me and sometimes he'd say it and keep on moving.  And now my baby for the past month or so has been saying "I love you" all the time, randomly, but with true meaning.  It's like he didn't know the feelings he had or something.  And it's amazingly beautiful and I'm so touched and happy.

So I'm gonna have to have her approach him the same way.  He's not going to start talking to her unless he feels safe, and he doesn't right now.  He's the same way with strangers...I don't have the kind of child who will strike up a conversation with most adults he's never met or those he's unsure of or intimidated by.  

So I dropped him off at Gymnastics Camp expecting a few tears and hard separation.  I wasn't disappointed.  My sweet boy cried big tears though I promised over and over I would be back.  I called a couple of hours later and they said he was fine.  When I picked him up I watched him for a while...

When asked he told me he played and had a lot of fun.  I asked if he wanted to go back and he said YES!

So lots of firsts for my sweet boy this past week.  And lots of emotional turmoil and trauma for him.  Leaving a beloved teacher.  His best friend not being there for the initial transition.  Not really connecting with either of his new teachers.  Not getting great sleep at night, therefore napping which I don't feel is as restorative as overnight sleep at this age.   Lots of new big kids at daycare with school out and the school-agers coming.  And a mama who is exhausted and grumpy.

And that's just it.  I think he's acting out because of all of this going on.  And I have been nit-picking and on him like white on rice all week and weekend (thus far).  It just dawned on me as I insisted he go to sleep this evening and stop wiggling around that he's in a state of flux and emotion.  And he's 3 1/2.  At Whole Foods this afternoon he was a wiggle worm, but not in a bad way, but I so wasn't in the mood.  So the I told him to sit still and stop touching everything the more he did it.  And he never does stuff like that.  I was so frustrated.  And he kept scratching  tickling me as we went through the store that I had had it at check out.  I pinched the little underside of his little arm to get him to stop.  He looked so emotionally hurt and just started crying.  

So, tomorrow while not being a doormat I'm going to be much more cognizant of the fact that he's had a hard hard week.  We'll talk about proper behavior with friends (no hitting) briefly, perhaps we shouldn't tickle our friends and how to say good morning.  And I'll be sure to give Ms. Donnika a heads up on Tate and his discomfort.  I feel like I've totally failed my little boy this week.  It sucks to feel this way, and to know my feelings are valid.

If he doesn't feel or know 100% that I am always on his side then how can he ever be expected to feel confident in a world that is definitely not on his side.  

Though I know I love him more than anything, no matter how many times out I give him, no matter how many times I angrily tell him 'gah you have to start listening!', no matter how many times he makes me want to scream he doesn't know it.  In the midst of those times I'm pretty sure he's unsure if I love him.  Then when someone else is mean to him or disciplines him, he's got to feel pretty rotten because they've never even told him they love him and now they must not even like him.  Pretty scary feeling when you're only 3y10m old!

I've got to be my child's advocate.  His protector.  His knight(ess) in shining armor.

His mother.