Purim Party Trauma

For the past three weeks or so, the Gan has been leading the children towards Purim, one of my favorite holidays in Israel. I look forward to that day when all the nursery schools have their parties, you walk through the streets of Jerusalem and it feels like Mardi Gras.

Last night I painted Raphaela's nails, in anticipation of her Butterfly Princess costume.  This morning she put on her Butterfly crown and robe.  But the closer we got to Gan, the more difficult her behaviour became.  She stopped walking, insisted that she did not want to attend the Purim Party, did not care if all the other children were wearing costumes, Raphaela just wanted to go home.  Right before the steps of the Gan building she threw off her costume, and while the other children and their parents were celebrating together, taking photos etc., my daughter lay flailing on the floor and crying.

The kid was even willing to give up the promise of a basket full of junk food in order to avoid this day.

It made me frustrated and angry, because I didn't understand her resistance and the sudden change in her attitude.  I left her at Gan sobbing in the arms of her nursery teacher.

When I got home, I called one of my closest friends and told her this story, and her reply, concise and accurate:  "What's that, a stubborn and independent child?  A recalcitrant little person who is exerting her control over her life?  An intelligent girl who does not follow the crowd...Hmmm, I wonder where that comes from?"

Then she said the most wise words of all, "It is hard to look in the mirror and see your true self reflected, the good and the less flattering."

I know that my anger towards Raphaela and the situation as a whole was not at all effective and in fact misplaced; I have to let go and let my daughter do what she needs to do at her own pace.  It's not like this pattern is new, I saw the same when it came to her walking and toilet training.

I cannot control Raphaela, only give her guidelines and hope that she learns to live within this world in a way that ultimately gives her joy and success.

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Despite all sorts of international pressure to boycott Israel, the Red Hot Chili Peppers came to our little country, visited the Western Wall before their concert, and then performed last night in Tel Aviv.

I did not go to the concert, because it would have meant figuring out a place for Raphaela for the approximately 12 hours she would have needed care;  it would have meant arranging for someone to pick her up from Gan and take her home until this morning, in order to arrive in time for the concert  by 6:30 pm. While we have many good friends, at this point Raphaela will not stay with them alone for more than several hours.

The pre-Mommy adult went to movies and concerts, and listened to the RHCP; that person I was before I had a child had the freedom to take the weekend and travel, or just sit on the beach and read a good book;  the woman I was before I had Raphaela could get involved in either frivolous relationships, or try out a more serious connection and experiment without worrying too much about the consequences.  The Me that I was before Raphaela could sleep past five in the morning, and could get in a nap on Shabbat without having an interruption every five minutes, "Are you sleeping Mommy?"

I know that today is September 11, and I should be saying something deep about the import of the day.  I know that Rosh HaShanah fast approaches, and I will state for the record that I am eternally grateful that both I and my daughter are healthy, and that I have the privilege of watching her grow into an amazing human being every day.

So, G-d, Universe and Everything, thank you, and please keep us safe and well this next year and beyond.

But I am also a woman who has no instant family as baby sitters, no secret account or trust fund that allows me to work part-time or take even the brief Sabbatical I need after almost 17 years of working in the field of Chiropractic.  I run  and react and serve others from the moment I wake up until the moment I collapse in bed at night, worrying if I have done enough to take care of us as a family,  and to make a difference on the planet.  I am also the woman who has not been intimate with a man for way too long, has not taken a vacation for close to five years; I miss the days when I would choose a random European country and wander around, meeting the citizens, observing natural wonders and learning a new language.  I am the adult who has had way too many conversations with a three year old about bodily functions and Dora the Explorer and Bob the Builder.

Our planned trip to the States in November for Thanksgiving, it is my gift to Raphaela so she can get to know her cousins and extended family.  I am paying for the entire trip myself, and I am under no illusions that this family affair will qualify as my vacation.

I wanted to go to that concert last night, I really really did, for me this day and the person who used to inhabit this body.  I am burning out, and this morning I am feeling tired and resentful, instead of appreciating the blessings I have in my life.

Definite Progress

Yesterday Raphaela stayed a full day at Gan, including a nap in the afternoon and no accidents.  This morning there was no crying as I left, because she immediately got busy playing with a moving puzzle.

Progress, definite progress.

New Gan, Day Two

This morning, the Gan insisted that parents not draw out their good-byes, and that we tell our kids that we will return soon, as today continues to be a short day relative to the normal schedule. 

I sat with Raphaela and did a puzzle, and then told her that I would come back as soon I finished my work;  Raphaela responded by pushing me toward the door and saying that it was alright for me to work "a little bit." Of course once I got to the door, she realized the implications of her consent and started crying, and had to be physically separated from me by one of her teachers.

I know that this place is good for her, as well as recognizing the benefits of a structured program outside the house, but the crying haunted me regardless during the morning.

After one patient, I picked up Raphaela, and found her sitting with another little girl and playing house, she barely reacted when I walked into the room. One of her teachers told me that Raphaela was a "champion" after I left her in the morning, and the Head Nursery Teacher told me that my daughter is "focused and a good listener...mature" for her age.  Apparently Raphaela also approached a few children during sand box time, to befriend them and include them in the group play.

My major concern had been that Raphaela would be entering a room with lots of kids, none of whom she knew, and this news provides me with great relief.  Now if only she would agree to use the Gan bathroom, we can get back on track with toilet training.

The Head Nursery teacher also sent me home with "homework," a small Hebrew book they had given to each child that tells the story of a girl's first day at Gan;  Raphaela enjoyed the gift and actually asked me to re-read the book several times, and I appreciate the educational cleverness of reinforcing the joy and eagerness to start Gan for the full day.

Sleep, Disturbed

Somehow my daughter jumped from toddler habits to teenager habits in the last week, and has now decided that nine thirty pm is a much better time to get into bed, rather than the 7:30- 8 pm to which I had acclimated and enjoyed.

She uses all those clever children requests, like "I'm thirsty," "I have to go to the bathroom," "My finger hurts, " "Please put on the music again."  Topped off with, "I want to play some more with Mommy."  I often wonder where children learn this, especially given with Raphaela that she has no older siblings in the house to teach her or to model behaviour.

As I was saying to a friend of mine yesterday, also a parent of toddlers, the net result is the complete loss of my private time, during which I would possibly eat something, read a book, watch television or talk to adult friends and have a healthy grown-up conversation.  I also go to sleep later that I had planned, in order to detox from the day, and as a consequence, do not get enough hours of absolutely needed rest for myself.

On Shabbat, I asked Raphaela if she needed to use the toilet, and she replied, "I will wait until I get to Gan."  Explaining that she cannot possibly hold it in for the next 24 hours, that Gan was closed, she shrugged her shoulders Israeli-kid style, and continued playing.

===================================================================

Yesterday afternoon, after picking up Raphaela from Gan, it was clear from her behaviour and her responses that she was desperately overtired.  For several hours, nothing I offered was acceptable, and only led to more tears and a confusing array of communication between us.

As a mother, at the very least it felt frustrating, being unable to reach her and knowing that a calming bath and an early night's sleep would resolve most of the issues, options she adamantly refused.  I also knew that I would have a difficult time within myself, feeling somehow inadequate as a parent.

Ultimately, Raphaela fell asleep on my lap, in the middle of  a dramatic reading of The Lion Who Loved Strawberries.  I finished the story over her sighs and snores.

Going Cold Turkey

Several months ago, before Shavuot, I spoke to the Head Nursery Teacher about starting serious toilet training at home, with the full support and cooperation of the Gan during the daytime hours.  I was told at the time that it was "inconvenient," because at least six other children were in the process of toilet training, and she did not want to spread the resources of the nursery staff too thin.

I felt slightly resentful that my daughter got sidelined, held my breath and figured the appropriate moment would arrive.  Truthfully, diapers represent a certain ease for me as a parent, regardless of their cost to my budget, or to the planet.

Last night, I got a late-night call from the Head Nursery Teacher telling me to bring a whole supply of girl's underwear to Gan today, that it was now "Raphaela's turn," and she practically guaranteed that the whole business would be done by the end of the week.

I am realistic enough to know that there will success and failure, and that I will end up doing lots of laundry, until Raphaela is completely comfortable with her new Big Girl status, and I will joyously support Raphaela for as long as it takes. 

Summer Strategy

This year, because school re-starts at the end of August, Raphaela has approximately two and a half weeks of vacation, much shorter than in previous years.  Being the super organized type A listmaker that I am, I had spoken to our favorite baby sitter months ago, asking if she was available, and assuming that we would need her for this period of time.

This week, one of the other mothers found a two week camp for children in Raphaela's general age group, a program relatively close to the house and which seems to have a solid and entertaining program.  Better yet, at least several of the children from her Gan will be attending, so Raphaela should adapt quickly to her surroundings, with familiar faces and play mates.  My first instinct was to sign her up for those two weeks, and then I remembered the first rule of parenting:

DON'T PISS OFF THE GOOD BABY SITTER!

I called the sitter and explained the situation, that I wanted to do what was best for Raphaela, and what was fair and reasonable for her, given that I had promised her almost three weeks of work.  She agreed that camp would be good and healthy and fun for Raphaela, and we came to a compromise solution:  Raphaela will attend camp for one week, and have one-on-one time with the sitter for the week before she returns to school. 

Perhaps I am incorrect in my assessment, but I don't think it is a bad thing if Raphaela has a week at home with the sitter, a week during which we can hone her toilet training and I can prepare her emotionally for the new Gan next year.  I can also arrange my Chiropractic clinic work schedule so that we have full afternoons to do something together, or travel to visit friends and cousins, before the craziness of the Fall begins.

The Magical Mystery Medical Tour

(With my sincerest apologies to the Beatles)

Last week, both Raphaela and I went to our family doctor, and both of us received anti-biotics.  Technically, I went to the doctor twice last week.

Tonight, in an effort to rule out any issues that might be interfering with Raphaela's growth, we are going to the Optometrist, to get Raphaela's vision checked;  for no reason other than prevention, and because sometimes I see her reading books and holding the text close to her face.

We have a follow-up appointment with our GP at the end of this week, and next week, I have my semi-annual dental visit, and Raphaela has a follow-up appointment with the Physical Therapist.

Somehow, in all this, the head nursery teacher has found it appropriate to accuse me of being a "neglectful mother" who does not take care of my child's most basic needs.  Raphaela's allergic cough, despite many assurances from me and our physician that it is not dangerous to the other children, bothers her, and today she called in the middle of the work day essentially to threaten me:  "I would have sent her home today with that cough, and I am not allowing her to attend Gan tomorrow.  What kind of mother hears her child suffering and does nothing?"  (Apparently she is talking about me.)

Interesting how the Head Nursery teacher's entire approach toward me and my daughter changed when she understood that Raphaela would not be returning to this Gan next year.  All of a sudden, my daughter's toilet training within the framework of the group could be "put off to a more convenient time for her."  When the class bully scratched her face and hit her, in front of me, it was "not important" who did it, and I was told that Raphaela's word could not be trusted.  And now I neglect my daughter. 

Where is she when I lose sleep because I wait to hear my daughter breathing?  Where is she when I find the time in between the rest of my life as a single parent and my work to go from doctor to doctor?  Was she with me when I took her to the emergency room on Shavuot, and was told that nothing could be done except wait a few days?

After her disturbing phone call, and given her recent obvious turnaround in her treatment of Raphaela and me, her mother, I don't know whether to be more angry or concerned.  A part of me feels like I only have to ride out this storm until August,  and I am at the very least grateful that she does not spend all day with my child.  But right now, if I saw this woman, I think I would punch her.  Best to avoid the Head Nursery teacher and follow my parents' advice, "If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."

Then again, I have yet to hear the advice, "Don't blog angry..."

We Are Family

When I first moved to Israel in 1997, I joined the Tora Dojo martial arts organization; I was alone in a new country, and they were the closest thing to family I could imagine.  My father had received a black belt - one of the original ten -  from the style's creator, Dr. Harvey Sober.  Many of the teachers here in Jerusalem had gone to college with my father, remembered me as a little girl, and welcomed me. I felt like I had the social safety net I needed.

After several years, and having a achieved purple belt, I felt that the style of martial arts that Tora Dojo represented here in Israel no longer fulfilled my needs, and it took me six months to officially stop going to class, and another six months to stop feeling bad about leaving my 'family.'

I have approximately two weeks to decide where Raphaela will go to Gan next year.  I suffer from too many choices rather than too few, and it is driving me mad.

Option One, Gan Yarok (her current nursery):  Raphaela is happy there, she knows the place and some of the children returning next year;  she will have one more year of a great child-staff ratio of 1:5-6. Despite some of the glaring problems with the Head nursery teacher, I have many good things to say about the place and what they offer, the feeling of independence that they foster as a Montessori program.

MAJOR DOWNSIDE:  It is the most expensive place of the three, with the most vacation days and the least hours per month.  As a single mother, money is a real issue.
THE BIG QUESTION:  Is Raphaela's "security" worth the extra money, even if it means that I end up struggling a little within my budget?

Option Two, Gan Mazi:  Although it is a  municipal nursery, they have an uncharacteristic ratio as well of 1:5-6, with a mix of Russian/Hebrew/English/Spanish language children, and an Immersion program, with several children her age whom she knows from swim lessons.  She can stay there for the next three years, until Raphaela starts first grade.

MAJOR DOWNSIDE:  It is not within walking distance of my house, and Raphaela would have to be toilet trained, no matter what.
THE BIG QUESTION:  Is Raphaela ready for the public system, or is three years old simply too early?

Option Three, Gan Emunah:  A five minute walk from my house, Raphaela's classroom for next year is full of toys and drawings, and the teachers seemed warm and at the same time, had good control over the group of three to four year olds.  It is private but much less expensive than Gan Yarok, with up to 26 children in the class and they supply all meals and snacks for the day.

MAJOR DOWNSIDE:  It would be a new place for Raphaela, and as far as I know, she would not know any of the kids in her class.
THE BIG QUESTION:  Is it worth transferring Raphaela for this one year, when she would have to switch in the public system next year, no matter what?

And then we get back to the question of family, that sense of guilt and dread if I pull Raphaela out of Gan Yarok, away from everything she has known for the last two years; wondering what amazing things they might be doing and feeling bad because Raphaela missed out on that experience.  I certainly can't agonize over this decision for too much longer, and don't want to hand it over to indecision and the Greater Universe; I want to own it and be 100% with my process.

As a friend of mine reminded me, when the Universe makes a de facto choice, it is not always in mine (or Raphaela's) best interests.

Diapers, The End is Near

Yesterday at Gan, for the first time ever, Raphaela asked to use the child-size toilet instead of soiling her diaper, and succeeded in her mission.

Today, at the request of her teachers, I brought her potty and some undies to Gan, so Raphaela could feel free to explore and refine this new skill.

I know we have a long way to go before she perfects her toilet training, but I could not be more proud or more happy at the news.

Eureka!

In spending time with Raphaela this weekend, I realized something spectacular:  She prefers to wear diapers not merely because they are absorbent, but mostly because they feature  pictures of Elmo and his Sesame Street friends.  She aske me to change her diaper several times today when she was totally clean, because she wanted a new character on her tush.

I must find underwear that she loves and wants to wear, and I think it will significantly speed up our toilet training plans.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

In the crusade to enact No Pressure Toilet Training with Raphaela, I have done all I can to set the stage for success.  We have a potty and a soft seat in the bathroon, next to the toilet;  Raphaela plays pretend games which involve her dolls sitting on the potty, after which she says, "All clean!"  The Potty Book (In Hebrew, girls version) is one of our favorite bedtime stories.  When I go to the bathroom, I forgo my privacy and have Raphaela watch me and hold my hand, as I explain how much fun it is to be a big girl like Mommy and use the toilet.

Now we have an issue of patience, ie Raphaela does not have the tolerance to sit on the potty for more than three seconds, not enough time to get results.  When she tells me that she is about to dirty her diaper, I ask, "Do you want to sit on the potty instead?" and she answers with a resolute "No!"

This morning, when I was getting dressed, Raphaela watched as I put on my own underwear.  She insisted that she too wanted panties and a bra.  I explained to her that she does not yet need a bra, and that she will get underwear when she is a big girl who uses the potty.  Raphaela continued to beg, and so I clothed her in a diaper, followed by a pair of underpants, with her fleece pants on top.

At the very least, her lower body will be warm.

Gan, Fall 2012

"Already?!"  That was my response when a friend of mine, whose daughter is the same age as Raphaela, told me that she has been investigating potential nursery schools for the last three months, and that the registration for Jerusalem Municipality nursery schools for next Fall begins right after Chanukah, in three weeks.

Normally, a child at the age of three leaves the private nursery system and integrates in the 'public school' system of the city.

Of course I could not sleep at all last night, and finding myself perfectly alert at midnight, I compiled a list of questions and observations toward coming to the decision of nursery school for the following school year.  Thankfully, there is always the fall back position of Raphaela remaining at her current private Gan for one more year, though the price has become borderline prohibitive.  It also depends on which of Raphaela's closer friends would choose to remain there with her, so that she has continuity not only in the location, but also with her peers.

In no particular order:
1.  Cost of basic program/hours [FYI:  Municipal nurseries technically only have a half day]
2.  Cost of extra afternoon hours
3.  Food availability:  morning snack? Hot lunch? Afternoon snack? Kashrut in general?  Quality and healthfulness of food in general [FYI:  Contrary to the private nursery schools, most public programs do not provide breakfast or afternoon snack]
4.  Activities available in the facility itself, and activities imported on a regular basis eg movement, music, nature etc.
5.  How do they deal with a child who is not totally toilet trained? [FYI:  In order to enter the Israeli public nursery, the child must be toilet trained by the age of three]  How do they deal with multi-lingual children?  How do the deal with a child who still may need a mid-afternoon nap?
6.  Integration of the older children with the newer younger children [FYI:  At this stage of Gan, most children stay in the same place until first grade]
7.  Ratio of kids to nursery teacher [FYI:  In contrast to the private Gan which Raphaela attends now, most public programs have a ratio of 1 to 35 children, with minor assistance at lunch time]
8.  How do they approach and teach religious issues and holidays?  Is there a specific dress code within the religious nursery system?
9.  Does the Gan feel clean and light?  Does each child have their own cubby space?  What does the play area look like, can children go outside and get fresh air?  Are there enough outdoor toys to go around?
10.  Structure of a typical Gan day
11.  How does the Gan and the nursery teacher deal with disciplinary issues and disagreements among the children?  Is there a zero-tolerance policy on violence?
12.  How do they expect and wish parents to be involved within the Gan?
13.  How do they celebrate birthdays?
14.  What are the educational goals and teaching philosophy of the place?
15.  What will Raphaela's friends choose as a framework for next year?

No one told me how much legwork you must do as a parent, in order to (hopefully) make the best choice for my daughter.

New Night Time Ritual

Raphaela and I have spent the last two weeks together, in between holidays and play dates.  I love the time we have spent , even when it felt frustrating or tiring at times, because it gave me the opportunity to appreciate her growth; mentally, emotionally and physically.  On vacation, we snuggled in bed in the morning and had a comfortable start to the day, rather than rushing into the schedule for the standard week day.

I have not, however, enjoyed planning and preparing all these meals. At least when she goes to Gan during the week, they feed her a full lunch and two healthful 'snacks', so all I need to think about is dinner.

She now added a new wrinkle to our night time ritual, in which she calls out my name as many times as possible, from the time I tuck her in and give her a kiss to the closing of her bedroom door. It's a competative game for her, those ten to fifteen seconds. She then calls my name several times more after I close the door, to make sure I answer her even if she cannot see me.

"Mommy!"
"I love you, good night!  See you in the morning." (Laughter)
"Mommy!"
"I love you, good night! See you in the morning."  (Laughter) And so on.

Raphaela has changed so much since her surgery in July, and becomes more of a "real person" every day.  I hardly remember her as a baby, and that's normal, the natural progression of our mother-daughter relationship.

Now that the chunk of holidays has ended, I can look forward to the great en masse toilet training experiment that the Gan has planned.  I just may have a child out of diapers within the next month...

Gan Reunion

This morning, armed with three bags worth of Gan supplies, Raphaela and I returned to the routine of the school year, along with almost every other parent in Israel.  The head nursery teacher asked the parents to stay the entire morning and hang out in the corner, to be seen but not to hover; and so we mothers (especially those who knew each other from last year) hung out and caught up.   Across the board, the parents admitted that as nice as it is to spend time with your child, Thank G-d for the return of sanity, and some free time as grown-ups.

It was an amazing sense of relief and joy to watch Raphaela walking around, on two legs instead of all-fours, as she had done until the end of the last school year.

Once Raphaela feels secure enough to be left at Gan, I will re-start my running program, using the track through the forest right behind the nursery school building.  I ultimately plan on running the Jerusalem 10K next Spring, not to mention feeling toned again, for the first time in two years since the birth.

NEWS FLASH:  The woman who was supposed to be the supervisor for Raphaela's group, one of the new hires, let the Gan know yesterday that due to "personal reasons," she would be unable to fulfill her role.

The most interesting innovation this year should be the post Jewish holidays mass toilet training.  The head nursery teacher informed the parents that starting after Succot (mid-October), all the kids from the age of one and higher will be encouraged to drop their pants and toilet train together, following the Montissouri technique.

I know this route works especially well, though I have one reservation:  Raphaela has only begun recently to explore her more private anatomy, and I hope that the Gan can maintain some decorum among the children regarding relative state of dress during this toilet training adventure.

We ended the day with friends from the States,  for a relaxed meal at the restaurant at the Botanical Gardens;  my one last gasp at Summer vacation before the move next week.

Easing into Toilet Training

Potty? Check!
Toilet seat adaptor? Check!
The famous Israeli potty book by Alona Frankel, the girl's anatomy edition? Check!
Non wobbly step-stool? Not yet, d'oh!

Raphaela seems very receptive to the idea, she has made the association between what sits in her diaper and what should be in the potty or the toilet.  She has tried sitting on the potty, clothed, to see how it feels.  We have read the Alona Frankel book at least ten times in the last 24 hours.  I have also pointed out to Raphaela that in the Maisy book, "Maisy's Bedtime," Maisy the Mouse sits on the toilet, and her stuffed animal/best friend Panda sits on the potty.

Her nursery teacher suggested that since Raphaela is the youngest child in the Gan, she does not need to rush into toilet training, because the stress of the expectations of performance could turn this seminal transition into a negative experience.  I have introduced the concepts, and will let it ride according to Raphaela's motivation, though the heat of the Summer here creates an excellent excuse to go naked.  (And it would be wonderful to stop buying diapers on a regular basis!)

Early Potty Training?

Yesterday, when I picked Raphaela up from Gan, several parents were discussing potty training with their own children, several months older than Raphaela.When we got home, Raphaela insisted on stripping down to nothing, literally, and played and ate dinner and watched our Prime Minister's speech in the nude.  Puddles of pee were everywhere, but she was certainly enjoying herself.

Is it possible that she will toilet train herself before she officially walks?!