Hello my beautiful readers.
Firstly I would like to apologise for my lack of posting on here and on my social media last week.
Last week started pretty normally, and then one after the other things started happening to start niggling away at my general ability to function. So basically sitting down to focus on writing became a near on impossible task without my mind wondering to everything that had been nagging at me.
This set me up for Wednesday, upon picking my son up from his childcare I was informed, (to put it bluntly) of how shit my kid had been that day. By the woman assisting his Kindergarten teacher, his teacher said nothing to me about his “lack of good behaviour”. Until that point his Kindergarten teacher had only said how great he was, he’s full of energy, but he’s not a bad kid. This assistant has pretty much made me think my kid was a monster, and will likely become a bully in school. No mum wants to hear things like this about their only child.
I cried all afternoon, and again before bed. To say my husband was furious is an understatement.
Thursday morning, I honestly didn’t want to send him but I did, because it is rather expensive to waste a day, and my son did eventually decide he wanted to go.
My main cause for concern was that during the night my son had experienced his first night terror, knowing what they look like from my own brother experiencing them throughout childhood, and occasionally in his early 20’s. I was curious as to what may have prompted it to happen.
Basically it’s most common after a trauma, so now I am angry and upset because my son has been traumatised from being constantly in trouble by this cranky old bag and excluded from playing, and even EATING with the other children.
I called my husband and asked him to finish work early, so that we can go together and pick our son up, to pretty much show a united front while dealing with this crabby bitch.
Upon arrival our son was playing trains with another two boys and it was a completely different scene than the day before, his kindergarten teacher was nearby reading to a group of other children and the cranky cow was across the room playing with a group of girls, but as my husband and I entered the room, she shot a look of what my husband described as “the stink eye”, I did not see it as I was too busy watching my son play happily. When he saw us he wanted to show his dad the counting pegs, which were unfortunately over the other side of the room, so we went over, and the cow hops up and suggests the girls move away and then says to my husband and I “as long as he doesn’t touch the stones we just sorted them”. My husband gave me a look and I just laughed it off, I thought to myself, whatever lady. He didn’t touch the stones, just counted with his dad, was super proud of himself and after his Kindergarten teacher told us how wonderful he’d been for her, we left.
Regardless of how much we like his Kindy teacher, the constant changes to the assisting and managerial staff at this centre, and that even tough we pay top dollar (ap$60/day after rebates) our son has not really made any learning improvements, other than what we have taught him at home, and in some ways has regressed to behaviours he had grown out of before going to this centre 4 months ago. We have come to the conclusion to move him to a centre closer to our home.
Unfortunately I still have to send him for two weeks because of their enrolment policies.
I will be taking that time though to look at other centres in our area.
After having a rant to my sister in law, and her agreeing that we’re right, I am now looking forward to this Thursday where I am joining her and her friend for their weekly swim.
It has been a long time since I have gone for a proper swim and not just a splash about with the kid and hubby.
I used to do laps every few days, and like going for a dirt bike ride for my husband calms him, swimming really does wonders for me.
Have a lovely week, and thanks for reading.