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ninanevermore.
.
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My son's new babysitter, who I'll refer to as Coco (based on how my son mispronounces her actual name which sounds nothing like that), reminds me of someone, but it took me awhile to figure out who. She has her serious intensity when she talks to you that then turns into a bright smile as soon as she's had her say. She's also very assertive. I've gathered that she either likes you, or she doesn't. She likes me, which is the only reason she's agreed to accept my money and watch my child. I mulled over just who it was that she reminded me of when it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I called Jeff to warm him. "When you pick up [Sweat Pea] and you meet Coco, don't be alarmed if she reminds you of Patty a little bit. She's a lot like what Patty would be if she weren't a complete %$#! up."
"What would that alarm me?" Jeff asked, "I always liked Patty except for the fact that she's a complete %$#! up."
I guess I always did, too. Except for the shameless mooching, the endless drama, the cloud of marijuana smoke that surrounds her, the self centeredness, and the general instability, my ex-best-friend Patty was not bad to hang around with. She was fearless when it came to seeking out fun (and not too proud to ask me for the money to finance that fun, with the understanding that she would pay me back when she finally found work). Still, she was as supportive emotionally as she was a drain financially, so it kind of balanced out.
Coco, upon meeting me for the second time, invited me to go out with her and her husband this weekend, maybe to meet them for dinner at Chili's (incidentally, Patty's favorite restaurant and one that I dislike in general), though the plans fell through. The snap decision of Hey, I like you, so let's get together and do something reminds me very much of Patty.
The most important thing about Coco is that my son seems to adore her. The first time he met her, he climbed into her lap uninvited so he could ask her a question, much to both her surprise and my own. He helps her with her 7 month old baby, though he told Coco and me both that he doesn't like babies very much. When the baby cries he exclaims, "Here we go again!" and he gives her a pacifier or a toy to try to make her happy.
Currently, he is the only child she is watching full time. Today there was another infant there when I dropped him off.
"Look," he said, pointing to the bouncy chair, "There are two babies now."
"I noticed that," I said.
"I wonder why?" he asked. Babies are a mystery to him, having not been around them much since he was one himself. He can't really figure out what use they are, but some people seem to want them around and he accepts this.
On Monday, his first day with Miss Coco, she was watching a 9 year old boy who happened to have the day off from school. She told me he spent most of the day playing outside with the other boy, though they got into a tussle at one point.
"Let me tell you, he held his own. I mean, even with against a 9 year old! He wouldn't back down."
I commented that no, he doesn't. I think this is what led to his problems with his last teacher; when he thinks you're wrong he's not going along with you, no matter how big you might be. My little man has 200 pounds of stubbornness stuffed into his 35 pound body.
When Coco interfered and made them back off, Sweet Pea gave her the only problem she's had with him so far. He pinched her when she tried to pick him up, and he spit on her floor when she tried to put him in time out.
"That's it?" I asked, waiting to hear the rest.
"That's it. He was wonderful except for that."
One pinch and some spitting was what counted as a Really Good Day at his last daycare, so I breathed a sigh of relief.
"And that only lasted maybe 5 minutes," she added. "After that, I didn't have any problems. Don't worry about. I'm new, and they all test the boundaries when they're with someone new. I'm not concerned."
One thing that is making me a bit crazy about Coco is that she likes to touch base with me at least once a day to let me know how he's doing. Normally, this would be a good thing with a babysitter. However, the last few months have conditioned me to stop breathing and to want to throw up when I see the phone number of whomever is watching my son come across my caller ID. It's going to take me awhile to get over this reaction.
Yesterday, she told had no problems. He helped with the baby, he took a long nap, and he ate his lunch without complaint. As of one hour ago today, she said he's been perfect and a big help with both babies (he was rocking the new baby when she called me).
The child Coco describes sounds very much like the child I know at home, only nicer. I'm not sure who the little boy the daycare threw out last month is, though he wore my son's face and went by his name. I've never met that strange, angry child before, and I hope he never comes back.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
I'm cautiously optimistic. No, that's a lie: I'm a nervous wreck. I keep waiting for her to say tell me that he's as awful as I was led to believe he is. All those bites, those tantrums, those attacks against his teachers and his peers are the reality I've grown used to. I think something was going on at his school and in his classroom that he's not quite sophisticated to tell me about. I try to ask him and get nowhere.
"Do you like Miss Coco?"
"Uh-huh."
"Would you rather have Miss Coco or Ms. S. for your teacher?"
"Miss Coco. I don't like Ms. S."
"You don't? Why not?"
"I don't know." I can hear the irritation starting to rise in his voice.
"Was she mean?" (I know this is a leading question I should probably avoid, but I ask it anyway.)
"Yeah."
"What did she do that was mean? Can you tell me?"
"Stop!" he doesn't just say this forcefully, he shouts it. That is how he tells me the matter is closed and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. I can't get him to say a word after that.
Maybe, in time, he will tell me what happened. I think it probably boils down to S. being the sort of person who thinks that strong-willed children need to be broken, and she put all her efforts toward this goal. My son turned out to be too tough for her to break; the pressure she put on him only cause him to twist and bend until she let go (i.e., thrown out). The bitten classmates were only colateral damage in the war between my son and his teacher. Now that the pressure is gone, he's returning to the shape he was forged to be in the first place, as if no one had ever tried to alter him.
I have to admit that for all the trouble this has caused, I can't help but admire my little boy.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
My son's new babysitter, who I'll refer to as Coco (based on how my son mispronounces her actual name which sounds nothing like that), reminds me of someone, but it took me awhile to figure out who. She has her serious intensity when she talks to you that then turns into a bright smile as soon as she's had her say. She's also very assertive. I've gathered that she either likes you, or she doesn't. She likes me, which is the only reason she's agreed to accept my money and watch my child. I mulled over just who it was that she reminded me of when it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I called Jeff to warm him. "When you pick up [Sweat Pea] and you meet Coco, don't be alarmed if she reminds you of Patty a little bit. She's a lot like what Patty would be if she weren't a complete %$#! up."
"What would that alarm me?" Jeff asked, "I always liked Patty except for the fact that she's a complete %$#! up."
I guess I always did, too. Except for the shameless mooching, the endless drama, the cloud of marijuana smoke that surrounds her, the self centeredness, and the general instability, my ex-best-friend Patty was not bad to hang around with. She was fearless when it came to seeking out fun (and not too proud to ask me for the money to finance that fun, with the understanding that she would pay me back when she finally found work). Still, she was as supportive emotionally as she was a drain financially, so it kind of balanced out.
Coco, upon meeting me for the second time, invited me to go out with her and her husband this weekend, maybe to meet them for dinner at Chili's (incidentally, Patty's favorite restaurant and one that I dislike in general), though the plans fell through. The snap decision of Hey, I like you, so let's get together and do something reminds me very much of Patty.
The most important thing about Coco is that my son seems to adore her. The first time he met her, he climbed into her lap uninvited so he could ask her a question, much to both her surprise and my own. He helps her with her 7 month old baby, though he told Coco and me both that he doesn't like babies very much. When the baby cries he exclaims, "Here we go again!" and he gives her a pacifier or a toy to try to make her happy.
Currently, he is the only child she is watching full time. Today there was another infant there when I dropped him off.
"Look," he said, pointing to the bouncy chair, "There are two babies now."
"I noticed that," I said.
"I wonder why?" he asked. Babies are a mystery to him, having not been around them much since he was one himself. He can't really figure out what use they are, but some people seem to want them around and he accepts this.
On Monday, his first day with Miss Coco, she was watching a 9 year old boy who happened to have the day off from school. She told me he spent most of the day playing outside with the other boy, though they got into a tussle at one point.
"Let me tell you, he held his own. I mean, even with against a 9 year old! He wouldn't back down."
I commented that no, he doesn't. I think this is what led to his problems with his last teacher; when he thinks you're wrong he's not going along with you, no matter how big you might be. My little man has 200 pounds of stubbornness stuffed into his 35 pound body.
When Coco interfered and made them back off, Sweet Pea gave her the only problem she's had with him so far. He pinched her when she tried to pick him up, and he spit on her floor when she tried to put him in time out.
"That's it?" I asked, waiting to hear the rest.
"That's it. He was wonderful except for that."
One pinch and some spitting was what counted as a Really Good Day at his last daycare, so I breathed a sigh of relief.
"And that only lasted maybe 5 minutes," she added. "After that, I didn't have any problems. Don't worry about. I'm new, and they all test the boundaries when they're with someone new. I'm not concerned."
One thing that is making me a bit crazy about Coco is that she likes to touch base with me at least once a day to let me know how he's doing. Normally, this would be a good thing with a babysitter. However, the last few months have conditioned me to stop breathing and to want to throw up when I see the phone number of whomever is watching my son come across my caller ID. It's going to take me awhile to get over this reaction.
Yesterday, she told had no problems. He helped with the baby, he took a long nap, and he ate his lunch without complaint. As of one hour ago today, she said he's been perfect and a big help with both babies (he was rocking the new baby when she called me).
The child Coco describes sounds very much like the child I know at home, only nicer. I'm not sure who the little boy the daycare threw out last month is, though he wore my son's face and went by his name. I've never met that strange, angry child before, and I hope he never comes back.
I'm cautiously optimistic. No, that's a lie: I'm a nervous wreck. I keep waiting for her to say tell me that he's as awful as I was led to believe he is. All those bites, those tantrums, those attacks against his teachers and his peers are the reality I've grown used to. I think something was going on at his school and in his classroom that he's not quite sophisticated to tell me about. I try to ask him and get nowhere.
"Do you like Miss Coco?"
"Uh-huh."
"Would you rather have Miss Coco or Ms. S. for your teacher?"
"Miss Coco. I don't like Ms. S."
"You don't? Why not?"
"I don't know." I can hear the irritation starting to rise in his voice.
"Was she mean?" (I know this is a leading question I should probably avoid, but I ask it anyway.)
"Yeah."
"What did she do that was mean? Can you tell me?"
"Stop!" he doesn't just say this forcefully, he shouts it. That is how he tells me the matter is closed and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. I can't get him to say a word after that.
Maybe, in time, he will tell me what happened. I think it probably boils down to S. being the sort of person who thinks that strong-willed children need to be broken, and she put all her efforts toward this goal. My son turned out to be too tough for her to break; the pressure she put on him only cause him to twist and bend until she let go (i.e., thrown out). The bitten classmates were only colateral damage in the war between my son and his teacher. Now that the pressure is gone, he's returning to the shape he was forged to be in the first place, as if no one had ever tried to alter him.
I have to admit that for all the trouble this has caused, I can't help but admire my little boy.
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no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 08:51 pm (UTC)Except for the shameless mooching, the endless drama, the cloud of marijuana smoke that surrounds her, the self centeredness, and the general instability, my ex-best-friend Patty was not bad to hang around with.
When it all boils down, it's tough not to love a friendly weed-head.
As much as they may try your patience, something about them makes them like bad puppies. Even though they destroy a favorite shoe, you can't be mad at them for long.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 02:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 09:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 10:43 pm (UTC)Jeff is right: he's Eddie Haskel!
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 10:31 pm (UTC)That anxiety that you feel when the phone rings and it's the daycare, is probably some of the same type of anxiety that Sweet Pea feels when he's put in time out. He has been conditioned and so have you. You recognize what it is. He doesn't.
Pinching and spitting, though better than biting, are still not all right. I know you know that, but I have to mention that, because I suspect that can still get him thrown out.
And I think there is something more to what went on with that teacher that he's not saying. Often when a child has been abused, their families are threatened, ie, if you tell anyone I will kill your parents, or the police will come and take you away from your parents. Perhaps approaching him with reassurances that nothing like that will happen if he talks will help open the doors.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 10:54 pm (UTC)The last 2 days, she's had nothing but praise for him. He helped with both babies today, and was gentle and sweet with them.
I don't think Ms. S. did physical anything to him, or at least I saw no signs of it when I bathed and dressed him. It was more of a (to use a very crude term) mindf--k to someone too small to know what was being done to him. After being told how bad he was constantly, be began to play the part. He's gotten very sensitive to perceived insults, so I suspect there was a lot of verbal abuse going on.
I don't think she was even aware of the damage she was doing.
I'm still very much in damage control mode.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 10:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-06 11:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 12:20 am (UTC)The best I can do is use this hindsight I've gained as foresight as he works his way through the education system. If he ever starts acting out again, I'll have a better idea what to look for and what to do about it.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 12:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 02:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-07 01:04 pm (UTC)