After I left P’ito at daycare this morning, I went downstairs to the director’s office to ask her a quick question about his tuition.
– Oh, I’m so glad you’re here – do you have a minute?
– Um, sure. (not what I was expecting)
She wanted to talk to me about early intervention.
I’m quite familiar with EI – it’s what my mom does for a living. And if I had any concerns about P’ito, I wouldn’t hesitate to call them and get him evaluated. So why do I feel so whiplashed that she brought it up? Her concern is not about physical or cognitive development – she feels he’s doing great in those regards. But as she put it, after spending some time in his classroom and talking to his lead teacher, they feel he’s a little serious/ withdrawn/ subdued (since before Pili’s commuting, btw). And, she explained, they’ve had lots of positive experiences with EI giving them suggestions to help internationally adopted kids adapt to the daycare setting.
I know the mood that they are talking about, but I also know my silly goofy boy who is anything but subdued. To wit: After his bath tonight, I was trying to ready the sixteen layers of cloth diaper that keep him from soaking through his pjs, and he was trying to unready them. Finally, I gave up and set his naked little self down on the floor. He WHOOPED, ran over to his zebra and climbed on it. Buck naked. Then he shot me the most mischevious grin ever.
I have a lot of trust and confidence in his daycare. They are NAEYC accredited, his teachers adore him & snuggle him lots, and I’ve certainly seen him be happy there. So I find myself wondering: if he weren’t adopted, would she be suggesting this?
My mom doesn’t see any need for evaluation; on the other hand, she is such a fabulously over the moon grandma that I think she may really believe his shit smells sweet. She thinks that he is quiet at daycare because he’s trying to hold onto his memories of Pili & me & we need to find a lovie for him (so far, he has no particular attachment to any soft objects other than his mommies) & send him to school with lots of pictures of us (he has a big poster with pictures of us right at his eye level).
I don’t know. I feel – glad that they are looking out for him – annoyed that I don’t think she’d make the same suggestion to the parents of the quiet, non-adopted kids in his class – sad that he is not happier at school and not sure what to do about it.
And then I went in to pick him up today, and he was absolutely positively giggly. And his afternoon teacher looked at me like she thought I was certifiable when I said that the director & teacher #1 thought he was subdued. Perhaps it’s just that he got a nice long nap in today?
UPDATE: We started sending P’ito to daycare with Blankie, which I guess I can no longer describe as “the closest thing to a lovie that he’s got” as it seems to have been upgraded to FULL ON LOVIE status. And that seems to have helped – he’s been much happier and his normal goofy self at daycare ever since. I checked back in with the director the other day and she immediately said “y’know I’m glad you brought that up again – I think you were right that he was just working through some separation anxiety and I’m not concerned anymore.” Whew.
Whoever designed the diaper changing stations at O’Hare Airport has obviously never changed a wiggly toddler.
(Yes, I’m admitting it. He’s a toddler. Where did my baby go?)
I’m sure embedding the garbage chute and sink (with automatic on/off sensor) in the changing table seemed like an ergonomically sensible design. However, I wish upon the designer of said ergonomically designed changing station a squirmy toddler with a massively poopy diaper, who thinks that sticking his hands down the garbage chute to see what’s down there and kicking his feet in the sink to turn the water on, is a far far better thing than allowing his tush to be wiped.
We’re home. Thank g-d.