I don't know why I have tried to ignore what they've been trying to tell me the past six weeks.
I finally started listening this week and my instinct was right. Even though I try to do parenting with no regrets, never again will I ignore what I know is right.
Georgia has been going to preschool three days a week. Toward the end of the first week, she told me that a little boy was hitting her. She started acting out more at home...much more emotional and dramatic toward us and one time hit the dog with her Barbie.
I asked her what was wrong and she told me a little boy at school had hit her. Had been hitting her. I asked what happened and she said it hurts, she cries, he goes to time out. The next day I asked the teacher about it, and she assured me it was something they were working on and that his behavior had improved.
I'm not a teacher. I'm not there during the day. I'm not trained to discipline twelve kids at once. I left it to her and asked that she keep me in the loop.
I noticed other things, like Georgia regressing in some developments. Namely, she stopped holding her pencil correctly and started wanting to take her nighttime lovey everywhere with us.
I talked to the teacher about the pencil-grip and other regression (I've never in the three years Georgia has gone to preschool, ever, had to have talks with the teacher), and she told me Georgia wasn't ready for these skills. Which didn't sit well with me because she had been doing fine before.
But I'm not the type of mom to push skills, and she is only four - lots of time until kindergarten.
But my instinct was telling me something was wrong.
So Tuesday I met with the preschool directors to talk about my concerns. Here I was, sitting in the office, feeling like a tattle tale because I didn't agree with the way the teacher was managing her classroom. I felt guilty for that. However, I was prepared to give things time to see if my concerns were being addressed.
How much time? I'm not sure.
Thursday on the way to school I overheard Georgia telling her stuffed animal, "Don't worry, I won't let him hit you."
That day after school Georgia told me that the little boy had gone to time out for hitting another boy, and that he had hit her in the nose and came to her table and started slamming his fist on her hands and arms.
My heart was so heavy.
David, Georgia and I spent lunchtime and recess today at another preschool and it was literally an answer to the prayers that had been on my heart. I point-blank asked the teacher if there were any problem children. She laughed and said, "You're in luck because usually there is one, but this year I have all little sweethearts."
Huge, huge, huge relief off of my shoulders.
Tonight while I was in David's office contemplating what to write to get myself in the groove of blogging again, I overheard David and Georgia talking about her new preschool. When I heard this, my heart broke in two: "Yes!! That was my wish! I made a wish that nobody at school would hit me!"
This is the first time I've felt so bad for a parenting decision. I chose to ignore my gut for fear of being that mom. The helicopter mom who always has to make sure her special snowflake is getting special treatment.
No more! Never again will I ignore my heart when it's trying to tell me that my daughter is in a wrong situation. Never again will I fully trust that all teachers have her best interests in mind. I will make sure to stay involved in any issues - even if it means I'm the annoying mom who keeps pressing for information when I feel like I'm not getting the full story.
I realized that no matter how good or well-regarded a school or program is, I am her only advocate and it's my job to make sure she is being treated fairly and respectfully. And to do something about it if she isn't. I won't be afraid to approach the other child's mom to ask how the school is handling an issue when it involves the emotional safety of mine.