Report from the Gan Meeting

Last night I attended the meeting of the parents of Gan Yarok, for the year 2011-2012.  It felt good to not be the "newbie" (or in Rocky Horror Picture Show, the "virgin").

1.  One of the new moms clearly had an issue with ADHD.  I say that not as a snarky parent but as a doctor. She had no impulse control, was interrupting others when they spoke, and could not sit still for more than several minutes.  I don't judge her, in fact I can't imagine how she lives that way.  What does, however, concern me that ADHD, a chemical imbalance, most likely has been passed on to some degree to her daughter, and I wouldn't want the staff to be so busy keeping this one child in line that they neglect the other children in the group.

2.  Two of the nursery teachers from last year returned, and two of them are new.  One of the new teachers rubbed many of the parents the wrong way.  She sat through the entire meeting with her arms crossed, barely smiling, like she did not want to be there, and the one time she did address the group she sounded unintelligent and shallow; more like a woman who would sit and gossip with her friends, than a woman I am trusting to take care of Raphaela.  I hope that the head nursery teacher made a wise choice with this particular person, and I am certainly willing to give her a chance, but will have no hesitation speaking up if I feel Raphaela is suffering because of a lousy personell choice.

3.  There was massive birthday panic among the group, because at least three of the children have birthdays right when Gan starts, this Wednesday-Thursday- Friday.  Raphaela's English birthday falls out this year between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, and I am hoping to arrange her party before the big Succot vacation.

4.  At one point, the head nursery teacher restated her objection to gift-giving as a form of bribery.  She then went on to praise various parents who last year organized group gifts on Purim and at the end of the year, and on the occasion of the marriage of one of the nursery teachers.  Several other women got credit for the projects I organized, and then one of those women was asked to become head of the parents committee, based upon her dedication and hard work.  I am not one generally who wants the public pat on the head, but my contribution was completely ignored, and it pissed me off.

And to wrap up, we have a new vocabulary word in our house:  ELMO.  Oh sad sad day.

From Two to Twelve

Raphaela now prefers to spend time with her two-year old play date friends, rather than with me, her Mommy.  My daughter has reached the teen years earlier than expected.  During the recent summer vacation, we have been enjoying play dates  - both the grown-up stimulation and the child distraction - and Raphaela spent all day today begging me to see her friend "Na Nu" (Alona), who goes to Gan with her and lives down the street.  Several times, Raphaeal brought me the phone and watched me patiently as I dialed.

Unfortunately I was quite ill today, and could not move, never mind arrange a play date.  Thank G-d I called our babysitting sisters and they were able to keep Raphaela busy while I rested.

Raphaela then spent the rest of today standing in front of the fridge, essentially complaining that there was nothing to eat in the house.  Guess I have to get back to the supermarket.

It Had to Happen

At some point it had to happen, no matter how much I watch out for Raphaela and try to prevent small accidents, Raphaela swallowed a small round bead this morning, an item that is distinctly a foreign object rather than food.  It was the size of a small M and M, and went down her throat just fine.  Now I await its exit....

Knowing that kids eat the darndest things does not assuage my feelings of guilt.

Aversion Therapy

Back when they started the illegal construction beneath me, almost two years ago, Raphaela was a baby and became traumatized by the drilling and vibration and noise.  I thought she had gotten over it until this morning, when the city was trimming the trees on the path near our house, and Raphaela literally flung herself into my arms, crying and shaking.

I thought it would be wise to show her the buzz saw, and stand there and watch them trim a few bushes, so she could see that she was safe, and put the fear into perspective.  Raphaela was able to stand there after a while without panic, and we went home.

Of course later she again became hysterical, and I had to calm her by explaining that the sound and the tool were not dangerous, and that I would always protect her.  I think I need to add treatments for my daughter's PTSD to the law suit against the landlord.

Our baby sitter also did a fantastic job of distracting Raphaela and taking her to the park during the height of the noise.  The sitter, a 17 year old from a large family, has truly impressed me this last week with her confidence and maturity.  She has also made me laugh:  we were all listening to a Sesame Street CD yesterday and the sitter said, "I grew up with Sesame Street!"  To which I replied, "Honey, I grew up with Sesame Street before there was Elmo.  The program started when I was one year old."

The Fragile Male Ego

My land lord finally got back to my lawyer, and they are claiming that they have not actually damaged the quality of my life, either financially or emotionally, and have offered to compensate me with an amount of money that is, quite frankly, insulting.

The land lord told my lawyer that he would have been more cooperative, except that I have made a "mortal enemy" out of his contractor.  I told my lawyer that the contractor (Ultra-Orthodox, married, 13 children) can't stand me because he propsitioned me, and I said "Hell, no."

Two more weeks until moving day...

Who's the Boss

After this week, I am feeling like somewhat of a failure as a parent.

One morning, I promised Raphaela that she could see some Sesame Street youtube.com videos, and when my computer would not comply, I allowed her to watch a little bit of a television instead. I have sworn that I would never use the television as a baby sitter.

Savta Shira and I had a long conversation about the lack of formality that I have adopted around Raphaela's meal times.  She urged me to set up a "proper meal atmosphere," even if it is just the two of us sitting together and eating yogurts or cereal.  She is right of course, but I must be honest;  in the morning, that ten minutes when Raphaela eats her breakfast is the only time I have to shower and get ready for work.

I took Raphaela to the our pediatrician this morning, as a post-op visit and to ask her advice regarding Raphaela's walking.  My daughter knows how to walk, she no longer has the limitations of shortness of breath, and yet she mostly prefers crawling still, for convenience and speed.  Our doctor agreed that it was a confidence issue and not a developmental delay, but pointed out that it is clear from the little she was able to observe while in the clinic, that Raphaela rules the house.  Why should Raphaela walk when I will carry her, or when I will immediately offer her a hand to hold while walking? For all of Raphaela's independence and spirit, my relaxed parenting and eagerness is impeding her potential, and that is the last thing I want.

And apparently I bought Raphaela the wrong summer shoes, and according to the doctor, I "should know better," presumably as a Chiropractor.

Raphaela was not talkative at the pediatrician, which also caused concern regarding bilingual language confusion; trilingual if you count her very elaborate mystery language.  It is not enough that Raphaela has the inherent understanding of sentence structure, her reliance upon body language and Hebrew /English /Gibberish may create problems.  This is also apparently my fault, if I do not strictly adhere to English in the house, Hebrew at Gan.

Truth be told, I have often felt envious of the parents of Raphaela's Israeli (uni-lingual) class mates, whose children seem to have a more highly developed talent for conversation.

I did get points, however, for our bedtime and night time routine, and for the fact that Raphaela is clearly a comfortable, opinionated and joyous little girl.

Not even two years old, am I ruining my child?

Gan, Cycle I

Yesterday marked the end of Raphaela's first year in Gan, I picked her up and cleaned out her cubby space and hung around, just because I did not want to leave the atmosphere of familiarity. I cannot get over the amuont of development and growth my daughter has experienced there.

I know intellectually that she returns to the same place in two weeks, and now we brace for two weeks at home.