If I Had a Blog This is what I'd say...

Through the last few months of Elliot's less-than-desirable behaviour, I've said numerous times (both to myself and to others) that I'm glad none of this stuff is happening at daycare. It's been reassuring to me that he saves his worst behaviour for me and Greg.

Today at daycare pickup I found out the line's been crossed. Sandra, one of his caregivers, flagged me down to tell me that Elliot's been behaving badly recently. Hitting, kicking, baby talk and screaming. It sounded all too familiar. My stomach sank as she described his last two days at daycare.

I found it very awkward to talk about when he was standing right there, which she understood, so we have a meeting tomorrow morning to talk about it more. But in the meantime I feel like shit. There are a few thoughts running around in my mind...maybe there's actually something wrong with him developmentally...I don't want his caregivers to stop liking him...what the hell will we do if he gets kicked out of daycare?...how are we going to fix this?

I'm hoping that Sandra will have some useful advice for us. I'm not sure what to expect out of this meeting, except that I want to feel better than I do right now. And I want to have a game plan of some kind.

I talked to my sister about this tonight, and the first thing she said to me is that Elliot IS a sweet child, and this is a behavioural issue. I have to remember that. I also have to remember that we're not in this alone. There are plenty of resources out there to help us if needed.

The icing on the cake was after a perfectly good bedtime this evening, he asked for something that was in Amy's room. I told him I couldn't get it for him because Amy was already asleep. He proceeded to throw two cars that he had in bed with him. So I took them out of the room. He then threw his soother. I picked it up, gave it to him, and told him if he threw it again he'd lose it for the night. He looked me straight in the eye and dropped it on the floor. I picked it up and left the room. That was over an hour ago. I've just spent the last hour plus listening to him cry out for his soother. He's apologized for throwing it, he's pleaded, he's screamed and I think he probably threw something else when I wasn't in the room. I lay down with him for a few more minutes just now and then told him I was going to bed too, and I haven't heard from him since.

Probably not my best parenting decision, taking it away from him (this will be the first night he's EVER slept without it), but once I took it away I felt like I had to stick to my guns. But I wonder if any of it gets through to him.

I hope it does soon. I'm feeling quite helpless.

We now have enough prescription and non-prescription drugs in this house to open our own pharmacy.

Let me see...it started in late June with all of us getting colds. Elliot bounced back pretty quickly, Amy got an eye infection that they thought was pink eye, and Greg and I coughed up a few lungs.

Amy's eye infection turned out to be H. flu. It went away and came back the following week. Greg and I continued to hack and Elliot remained healthy. Amy went on different antibiotic drops for her eye and started to get a recurring fever. Enter the Ear Infection.

Amy got treated with some oral antibiotics and seemed to get better. Both children healthy for a bit, Greg's sinuses got wacky and I continued to cough. A lot. Then I picked up the eye infection. More drops.

Last week we went to Nelson, and all four of us seemed healthy, finally. I realized on the second night there that I was hardly coughing at all. It only took a month.

The last night we were in Nelson I started to feel a cold coming on again. I thought maybe I was just overtired, but no such luck. Felt like crap for three days, and then the cough returned. At least it's not as bad as the first one.

Then Amy woke up yesterday with a high fever and she was very lethargic. I took her to the clinic last night, and sure enough another ear infection. And Elliot's daycare called today to inform us that he had an eye issue. I took him to the clinic and the doctor there didn't even bother swabbing his eye, she just gave me some antibiotic drops and sent us on our way.

Elliot was also complaining of a sore throat all day today.

I'm done. No more, please. At least not until the winter.

Tonight while I was out on a dessert run, I followed two teenagers skateboarding down a hill. They were both crouched down, going as fast as they could go, in the middle of the road. I was going about 55 km/h, and they had no trouble staying ahead of me. Neither of them were wearing any protection whatsoever.

I was busy thinking about how much I disapproved of what they were doing when I realized that's the entry into adulthood...when you realize you are mortal.

A few weeks ago, Elliot started talking about a couple of the girls in his class, and how he wanted them to come over for a visit. I told him that when I saw their parents, we could talk about having a play date. I wasn't sure who these girls were, let alone who their parents were, so I wasn't sure exactly how this conversation with the parents would take place. I was kind of hoping Elliot would just forget about it. His reason for wanting to invite one of the girls over was because she had the same toothbrush as him. I'm thinking that's not the strongest base for a friendship, even for a three-year-old.

A picked him up a couple of weeks ago and he came running up to me with two girls in tow. One of them announced that her mother said it was okay if Elliot came to her house, the other one just smiled shyly at me (turns out the latter one was the one with the same toothbrush). I had a short conversation with the chatty one, but essentially I blew them off.

Then today we were driving home, and Elliot announces he wants to go to Sam's house with his drum. I asked why, and he said Sam had a guitar and they were going to make a band. Obviously there had been a conversation about this with Sam...how I would have LOVED to hear it. Apparently the band's not going to be on the road (?).

I'm guessing this is going to start happening more and more, and I have to admit I'm out of my element. While I want to encourage Elliot to make friends, how do I go about (and this is going to sound bad) figuring out if I actually want Elliot to have a play date with these kids? And if I can somehow surmise that I'm okay with it, how do I go about arranging it with the parents? I run into different parents every time I drop off Elliot.

I can just imagine myself writing a note to the child's parent, asking for a play date, and the parent reading it, thinking "who is this desperate parent?". And is this just all talk at this point? Does he really expect anything to happen, or are these just musings?

An obvious tactic is to become more involved at daycare, but seeing as I'm putting my kids in daycare so I can go to work, that's a bit counter-productive. I will try to go to any events they have, but so far they've only had one. Another tactic would be to start having play dates with kids we DO know.

As an aside, Greg informed me that Elliot announced he's going to Alena's birthday party (Alena is the one with the toothbrush). We have yet to see an invitation, so I'm guessing he's not invited.

And so it begins...I have enough trouble with my own social life. I am not looking forward to managing my son's.

Last night was my 20 year high school reunion. Sometimes it's nice to not have a lot of readers, because I know I won't be offending any of them when I say it pretty much sucked. I hung in there for almost three hours, but I was ready to leave within 15 minutes of arriving. I had been told by many that their 20 year reunion was a lot more fun than their 10 year, but I disagree. I spent three hours asking the same three questions of people I haven't seen in 20 years (married? kids? what do you do?). It felt extremely artificial.

I loved high school, but I recognize now that it was because of my teachers, the sports that I did, and a small set of friends who I had a lot of fun with -- most of whom are still part of my life. High school was great when I was 15. It's not so great when I'm 38.

The one bright spot was running into an old family friend who had married someone I graduated with. We rode together a lot as kids, and it was great to catch up with her.

As I left the party with a friend who was equally as unimpressed, I expressed to him that having such a crappy time reinforced how happy I am with my life. As I was "catching up" with these people, I kept thinking of my husband, my kids, my friends and my home in Victoria. It all feels so right.

I've been sick for several days, which usually doesn't get me down, but I've been coughing for three days and I'm getting tired of it. Falling asleep has been brutal, and two nights ago I was almost in tears I was so frustrated. Last night when I went to bed my throat didn't hurt any more, but after some seemingly endless coughing, the sore throat returned.

Then there's Amy. First an eye infection, then a possible ear infection, then puking in the middle of the night. Combine that with two doctor visits, two different antibiotics and two missed days of daycare, and you've just got added stress and worry.

And this morning when I dropped the kids off at daycare I found out that there is no care for Amy for two days in July because of a conference that the caregivers are attending. Apparently a form was sent out in the spring about it, but I'm guessing it was sent out before we started, because I never saw it.

I've got two upcoming events that I should be happily anticipating -- friends who I've been dearly missing coming to stay with us and my 20-year high school reunion this weekend, but I've been feeling so gross that I've been dreading both events. (Jen, I assume you are reading this, and not to worry...I should be feeling full of glee by the time I see you guys.)

I'm drinking a chai, and there may be some retail therapy in the future.

Elliot is visiting his Gramma for a few days, and once again I'm reminded of how easy it is to care for one child when both parents are around. It'd be easier if that one child would SLEEP PAST 6 AM, but seeing as she goes to bed before 7 pm, I can't complain too much. (Well actually I can and I probably will, since 5:45 am is just plain too early!)

The last night before Elliot went off to Gramma's wasn't the best one. I had some trouble getting him into the bathtub, and when the hitting began I started taking away privileges. We managed to get through the evening without too much more turmoil, and while I was happy with how I kept my cool, I wasn't happy with my choice of consequences for his actions. With the first hit I told him he couldn't play after his bath anymore (that was how I got him into the bath, with the promise of some playtime afterwards) and with the second hit I took away his nighttime toys -- a couple of cars he plays with for a while in bed.

The consequences I chose had no relation to his behaviour, nor did they happen in a timely manner. So I think they were pretty pointless. Problem is, I don't know what to do about the hitting. And my instincts are failing me with this one. A more natural consequence would be to walk away, but he hits when he's upset, and if I walk away, his emotions tend to escalate, and he becomes inconsolable. (It's at this point that I wonder if something is wrong with him, other than the obvious hardship of being three.) I did reassure myself to Greg by recognizing that I'm not hitting him back...so things could be worse!

So yes, this is a break for Greg and I. And Elliot will surely benefit from having some one-on-one time with someone who loves him dearly, and who probably has a bit more patience, simply because she's his Gramma, not his mother. Not to mention he can avoid the pink eye that Amy has picked up.

And Amy, my early-rising girl, can enjoy some time with Mama and Dada. (Or Mama and Mama as we are currently called.)

I halfheartedly tried to break my running date with kaptaink this afternoon, but she was my conscience and got me out there. We decided to run around Cedar Hill golf course. We finished up a lap, and were both feeling pretty good, so we went around again. We didn't run the whole second lap, but I'm pretty sure we did at least 5 km. Longest I've run for a while.

Upon arriving home, I basically turned around and went out the door again, pushing my 20-pound toddler in her 10-pound stroller for a half hour walk with Yoshi.

When I squatted down to grab something off the floor this evening, there was a moment where I thought I wasn't going to make it back up again. My legs are certainly feeling it.

I was at a fair today and did not eat mini donuts. Although I did have a cheeseburger with lots of fried onions, and there is half a dozen Krispy Kremes sitting in our fridge right now. Both these things could have been factors in my decision not to buy mini donuts.

Still, it's somewhat shocking.

I dropped Elliot off at daycare today and watched from outside the door for a few minutes, as he seemed even more hesitant than usual. He just stood there, looking around, with a very solemn look on his face. I wanted to wait until I saw him move towards something (or someone), but he didn't move. I eventually had to go.

Now, if I think practically about this, I can remind myself that he's almost always happy when I pick him up, there are no tears when I drop him off, he talks about daycare quite a bit, and none of what he says is negative. And I can also remind myself that this is his nature. I know it takes him a while to warm up, especially in group situations. Plus he hasn't been there since Thursday.

So no, none of this is surprising, but on days like today, when maybe I'm feeling a bit vulnerable myself, I wonder what I'm doing to him as I turn around and leave when he'd rather just spend the day with me.