Thursday, June 12, 2008
The saga of the "potty-training classroom" reaches its narrative climax....
... just after the dramatic climax, which was when I found Colin's teacher with gloves on, emptying poo into a toilet, with boys running up and down the portable hallway, and she couldn't call for help because she was one over the appropriate ratio.
Yes. Seriously.
The Powers That Be had decided that Colin's class - which is a "potty-training class" - should be moved to a room without a toilet. Previously, they had a room with a bathroom in it, protected by a Dutch door so she could monitor the kids if they felt the natural "need to go" when it wasn't the hourly potty time. But because they had enough kids in the year-old classroom to fill two rooms, they moved his class to a room in a portable where you had to leave the classroom and walk down a hallway to get to the bathrooms.
Now it doesn't take an MA in Education to know that that isn't in the best interest of the kids!
Three pediatricians agreed with me. Four other teachers agreed with me. Other parents agreed with me.
So when the Powers That Be told me that it would be "wonderful" and that "they've always done potty training in that room," I asked, "How will the teacher cover preschool curriculum if she needs to take eight kids to the bathroom every hour, plus gather everyone if one person needs to go, or has an accident?" They said, "Oh, the curriculum is going to be potty training. That's it. We want to get them in and out as fast as we can."
Colin only attends two times per week. So my child, who knows his shapes up to trapezoid, would not be getting any academic curriculum. For a long time. Because at that rate of attendance, potty training wasn't going to happen in a fortnight.
I also pointed out that, while they have always done potty training in that room, it's never been the main curriculum.
Also, they told me that the teacher "needed to learn how to manage the class" and that "legally, we could have twelve kids in there." I pointed out that we pay for a one to eight ratio, not one to twelve.
Still, they didn't budge.
They complained to the teacher that she should have "smiled and said everything was fine" when I went into the bathroom that day.
I said, "No PR job can cover up what I know as an educator. This is not your fault, [teacher's name]."
She told the Powers That Be how unreasonable the situation was. They said, "We don't have to come down there - we've done this before."
Well, she took two days off that week. The Powers That Be needed to fill in.
On Tuesday, she reported that they are providing a second teacher for her AND knocking down the wall to create an entrance to the bathroom from the classroom.
But I thought they ALWAYS did potty training in that room!
I hugged Colin's teacher. And smirked and smirked and smirked all my way out the door.
It feels so good to be.... RIGHT! (For once?)
Yes. Seriously.
The Powers That Be had decided that Colin's class - which is a "potty-training class" - should be moved to a room without a toilet. Previously, they had a room with a bathroom in it, protected by a Dutch door so she could monitor the kids if they felt the natural "need to go" when it wasn't the hourly potty time. But because they had enough kids in the year-old classroom to fill two rooms, they moved his class to a room in a portable where you had to leave the classroom and walk down a hallway to get to the bathrooms.
Now it doesn't take an MA in Education to know that that isn't in the best interest of the kids!
Three pediatricians agreed with me. Four other teachers agreed with me. Other parents agreed with me.
So when the Powers That Be told me that it would be "wonderful" and that "they've always done potty training in that room," I asked, "How will the teacher cover preschool curriculum if she needs to take eight kids to the bathroom every hour, plus gather everyone if one person needs to go, or has an accident?" They said, "Oh, the curriculum is going to be potty training. That's it. We want to get them in and out as fast as we can."
Colin only attends two times per week. So my child, who knows his shapes up to trapezoid, would not be getting any academic curriculum. For a long time. Because at that rate of attendance, potty training wasn't going to happen in a fortnight.
I also pointed out that, while they have always done potty training in that room, it's never been the main curriculum.
Also, they told me that the teacher "needed to learn how to manage the class" and that "legally, we could have twelve kids in there." I pointed out that we pay for a one to eight ratio, not one to twelve.
Still, they didn't budge.
They complained to the teacher that she should have "smiled and said everything was fine" when I went into the bathroom that day.
I said, "No PR job can cover up what I know as an educator. This is not your fault, [teacher's name]."
She told the Powers That Be how unreasonable the situation was. They said, "We don't have to come down there - we've done this before."
Well, she took two days off that week. The Powers That Be needed to fill in.
On Tuesday, she reported that they are providing a second teacher for her AND knocking down the wall to create an entrance to the bathroom from the classroom.
But I thought they ALWAYS did potty training in that room!
I hugged Colin's teacher. And smirked and smirked and smirked all my way out the door.
It feels so good to be.... RIGHT! (For once?)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
ARGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH
I feel sick to my stomach.
I got offered a great job with a great school district with the caseload I was looking for - elementary-school aged kids.
So what's the problem?
They pay nearly $17,000 less per year than the district in which I live. That district also has a job open, but in a mild-to-moderate preschool class. Since I see preschoolers in my private practice, I was kind of looking forward to working with older kids again.
But I had a problem with getting paid $17,000 less per year. For nearly the same job.
Of course, since I'd only be part-time, the difference is less than $17,000 per year. But it's still a major difference.
I couldn't put off a decision any longer, so I called... and got HR's voicemail. So I left a voicemail and explained that the job sounded like a WONDERFUL fit except for the fact that, since my children were of daycare age and not school age, the amount offered to me wouldn't cover daycare for two kids each day. Another district could pay significantly more, so I had to consider that. I hoped, perhaps, that when my children were in school, I might re-apply if they had an opening at that time.
So I guess that's it.
(sigh)
I got offered a great job with a great school district with the caseload I was looking for - elementary-school aged kids.
So what's the problem?
They pay nearly $17,000 less per year than the district in which I live. That district also has a job open, but in a mild-to-moderate preschool class. Since I see preschoolers in my private practice, I was kind of looking forward to working with older kids again.
But I had a problem with getting paid $17,000 less per year. For nearly the same job.
Of course, since I'd only be part-time, the difference is less than $17,000 per year. But it's still a major difference.
I couldn't put off a decision any longer, so I called... and got HR's voicemail. So I left a voicemail and explained that the job sounded like a WONDERFUL fit except for the fact that, since my children were of daycare age and not school age, the amount offered to me wouldn't cover daycare for two kids each day. Another district could pay significantly more, so I had to consider that. I hoped, perhaps, that when my children were in school, I might re-apply if they had an opening at that time.
So I guess that's it.
(sigh)
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Remembering
Today's the day, eleven years ago, that the body of Jeff Buckley was found. He drowned in a tributary of the Wolf River on May 29.
I often think of his mother this time of year; can one ever really get over the death of their child, whether that child was three or thirty?
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
More Colin
Colin: Mommy, do you have a big spine?
Me: Yes, I do.
Colin: And Hayden, she have a small spine?
Me: Yes, that's right!
Colin: And she grow and grow. And get big as Colin.
------------
Although he confuses "rectangle" and "square", when asked to name shapes, he correctly names circle, triangle, oval, star, heart, diamond... and trapezoid. Which he calls "trapavoid". Says hubby, "Next, let's teach him 'rhombus'!"
------------
And we're trying to potty train. We should have done this before he turned two. I fear he may go to high school in Pull-Ups.
This is not going well. Day 3 and I'm ready to throw in the towel.
Me: Yes, I do.
Colin: And Hayden, she have a small spine?
Me: Yes, that's right!
Colin: And she grow and grow. And get big as Colin.
------------
Although he confuses "rectangle" and "square", when asked to name shapes, he correctly names circle, triangle, oval, star, heart, diamond... and trapezoid. Which he calls "trapavoid". Says hubby, "Next, let's teach him 'rhombus'!"
------------
And we're trying to potty train. We should have done this before he turned two. I fear he may go to high school in Pull-Ups.
This is not going well. Day 3 and I'm ready to throw in the towel.
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