Thursday, 9/3/09, will go down in my book as the day I officially became a Mama Bear for the first time. My cage got rattled, my temper got challenged and my composure got tested. Let me preface by saying that the past several days with Caleb have been challenging to say the least. We've had lots of strikes against us: he's been sick, Rudy's been sick, I'm still not back to a normal level of energy, it's a full moon (yes, I believe in this 100%) and the weather is changing. It has been a very difficult week and a half to two weeks for us. Caleb has been very emotional and has had a hard time keeping it together. He's crying easily, having lots of tantrums, being defiant and generally showing us lots of behaviors that we just normally don't see. Rudy and I have been struggling with it and getting frustrated, but trying to weather the storm like we always do - with compassion, but without giving too much on our expectations.
When I picked Caleb up from daycare on Thursday afternoon, he was on the playground. As I got to the gate, one of the adults told me very kindly that Elizabeth (Caleb's teacher) asked her to let me know that Caleb had been very emotional all day. Elizabeth has been excellent to give us reports on how Caleb’s days with her have been and we are very grateful for that. I thanked her for letting me know and told her that we had been dealing with the same thing at home for several days. I also told her that he was very sick this past weekend and has been emotionally volatile since then, both at home and at daycare. After I said that, one of the other adults (not his classroom teacher) suggested that I might need to talk to his pediatrician because he might have “generalized anxiety disorder.” I was taken aback by the suggestion and told her that I didn’t think it was anything that serious. He, like most three-year-olds, just goes through phases of being whiny and throwing tantrums.
By the time I got Caleb buckled into the car, I was past being taken aback and was absolutely astonished. After a while, I was getting angrier and angrier about it. I decided that I needed to write a letter to the director of the daycare. In the letter, I explained the situation just as I did above, but used the names of the adults involved. I went on to say this:
"My concern is solely with the idea that XXXX would so nonchalantly suggest a psychological diagnosis without the appropriate training to do so. Fortunately, I am familiar with this diagnosis and know that Caleb does not fit the profile of a child with GAD. Therefore, I knew not to be worried, but was still angered by the fact that she suggested it. This is not the first inappropriate situation that we have been involved in with her. XXXX regularly tells Caleb that she loves him and asks him to give her kisses when we pick him up in the afternoons. I feel that while that is very kind of her, it is inappropriate behavior for a daycare worker. Hugs are appropriate, kisses are not. We don’t ask Caleb to give kisses to anyone, particularly people who aren’t family."
Mama Bear's cage was rattled. My mom told me not to write the letter, because it would draw unnecessary attention to me and to Caleb, but I felt so strongly about it that I had to do it. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't usually go against Mom's advice, but this was a situation that I had to address.
I shared my frustration with friends on Facebook and was comforted by the astonishment and shock that they shared with me. I got some comforting words from people who know me and people who know Caleb. I got some 'attagirls from people who were just shocked about that fact that it happened.
At this point, we are keeping him in the daycare where he is and still planning to take HotShot there next fall. I have to talk to a couple of people before I make that decision for sure, but that's where we stand now. The range of emotions that I went through in a short period of time was wild. I went from feeling defeated, to astonished, to angry, to hell-bent, to doubtful, to helpless, to angry all over again. I now feel confident in my decision and confident in my ability to weather the storm of raising a 3-year-old.
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