t-r-o-u-b-l-e

so yesterday, i was coming out of a school meeting for one of my clients when i picked up a voicemail. i hadn't had a signal the whole two hours during the meeting so when i realized it came from the kids' daycare, i got a bit panicky. the message was:

"this is carolyn from the daycare. please call me as soon as you get this message."

two thoughts race through my head. one, she's sick. CRAP. DAMMIT. (a few other choice words).

the other: she's hurt. not so much cussing there; a tad more concern is exhibited.

i call back immediately, which is now more than two hours since the first call.

the assistant director was on the line. she greets me, and i say: "what's going on???"... she tells me:

georgia spit in another child's face at breakfast this morning.

come again? say WHAT?

i say in a very soft, low voice: put her on the phone. right now. blood pressure sky-high.

she's sobbing and incomprehensible by the time she gets to the phone. i told her how disappointed i was in her and that it was not going to be a pleasant evening for her. she sputtered out that she was sorry. i rambled on and on about an apology letter she'd have to write (draw) and that there was no movie night on friday. i hang up.

i call kevin. i tell him: can you BELIEVE what our child has done??? we need to have a plan for this. my child SPITTING at anything has not ever entered my mind. not polly prissy-pants.

kevin decides to leave work and pay the daycare a visit to express his disappointment in our child. when grownups tell me my child has misbehaved, i believe them. (it's the way i was raised!)

she is sad and crying and apologetic but offers no explanation. the assistant director happened to mention to kevin when asked that-- well, no, an adult didn't actually SEE this happen, but the kids all said she did it, and georgia herself admitted it too. so there. end of story.

hmm. that's the cluephone ringing. PICK IT UP, melinda.

when i picked up the children in the afternoon, we went straight home. the little einsteins went on the television for juliet while i had a talk with georgia. i tell her: please no crying! i cannot understand you through the dramatics. suck it up, wipe them dry, and tell me exactly what happened.

she says: i was just trying to say the word for that THING.

what thing?

pie ranger.

heh? what's a pie ranger?

it's that thing that austin was for happyhalloween. you know, boys like them. not girls.

(POWER ranger. got it!)

i was trying to say it and my P got stuck, and one little tiny poke came out of my mouth and it hit savannah on the cheek.

oh.

now i feel like a dog. a big one. but my first thought is: I HAVE TO SAVE FACE HERE. i am The Parent, after all.

so i say: why in the world did you not tell your teacher that? she says: all she asked me was if i spit on savannah, and i told her yes. you say i have to tell the truth, and that was the truth.

now i really feel bad. but i quickly rally and give this long and drawn-out explanation that if, indeed, your school or another parent calls me to tell me you are in trouble, You Are SO In Trouble. period. you better get used to that now because this is not up for discussion. i tell her: it's up to you to defend yourself if you don't think what you did was wrong. you better find your voice and use it. you would argue with me at home if you felt you were wrongly accused; you better do it at school too!-- and with good manners and a good tone. you spent all day long feeling miserable about being in trouble at home when all you had to do was tell your teacher that you didn't mean to do it. Let This Be A Lesson To You.

now, go and draw that apology picture just for the heck of it.

and she did.

was i too harsh? i don't know. i'm mildly amused today and mildly irritated at a daycare that jumped to conclusions (as if i didn't do the same thing myself!). but i find myself struggling in that gray space of howmyparentsdidit versus howeverybodyelsedoesit. i have a feeling this internal battle will go on forever!