What a difference a little love makes

This time last year I was convinced I'd spawned the devil's own. The terrible three's hit us and they hit hard. Our sweet little boy had become aggressive and violent, so much so that I literally feared taking him places where there might be other children. He hit, kicked and bit more often than anyone at that age should. Violence was his first method of communication, even though he was very capable of verbalizing his thoughts and feelings. He grasped the idea that hitting gave him the results he wanted quicker than words did and he ran with that.

It was around this time we started getting bad reports and bad vibes from the daycare center. Everything from the director was disguised as love and compassion, but hindsight lets me see that she really had a hidden agenda.

We'd always known that G has some mild social anxiety. But this aggression was new stuff. Unfortunately, the very people who were supposed to help us figure out how to deal with the behavior were the very ones almost encouraging it. It turns out his director saw an opportunity to get a 'labeled' child out of the deal (and in turn, money from the state to 'help') and she began to push us to 'do something'. Every day I came to pick him up, I was greeted by bad reports and 'come into my office' and calls at work. She was constantly pushing me to have him seen by 'the best of the best', a therapist who charged $190/hr, insisted that it would take at least 10 sessions to find out what was wrong and did a lot of referrals to G's center. Even after I told the director the therapist was not covered by our insurance she still insisted every day that something was wrong and that he needed to be evaluated. Of course, she never said WHAT he should be evaluated for.

Oddly enough, his teacher had nowhere near the bad things to say about him. After six months (yes, I was naive enough to let myself think for that long that it was my fault) I started noticing that each and every time his teacher found something that worked to curb G's behavior, within a week the director would somehow change things up so that his teacher could no longer apply her techniques. And I really REALLY wish I was exaggerating. Like I said, it took me 6 months to figure this out. By the time we pulled him from the center, the director had looked me straight in the eye said, "Nothing will help this child."

Utterly devastated, pissed off and with no idea where to go from there, I talked to everyone I could. I talked at length to a county child social worker, took him to see another county social worker, took him to the pediatrician, had him evaluated for Head Start, and talked to every mom of every 'problem' child I could think of. The unanimous consensus? A smart, energetic three year old in a very under-stimulating negative environment.

After a few months of babysitters I took the recommendation of a customer at work and looked into a nationally accredited certified preschool located in Madison. It was love at first sight. He's been enrolled there since Thanksgiving and thriving. He has never been happier. He's actually LEARNING things and making friends. His teachers are amazing, every staff member is trained in the exact same form of discipline and open communication between parents and teachers is practically enforced.

Next week we have our very first parent/teacher conference. In preparation, the teachers gave us a developmental checklist of things they have observed in each child. This is what their note said:

"Grant has been such a wonderful addition to our class this semester! Even though he has only been here for about five weeks his progress has been amazing! His ability to follow directions, sit at circle, and understand the general flow and routine of the room are just a few examples of the things that Grant has been able to recognize and master. He definitely displays age appropriate skills; sorting, large motor control and asking correct questions. Grant has such a warm heart and genuinely loves to interact with peers. Again, we feel so fortunate to have Grant a part of our class."

I cried.