Salvador's Mommy, You Better Watch Your Back

So the first time I received an "incident report" from David's daycare was when he was bitten just below his left shoulder blade (yes, on his BACK). I opened the door to his room and saw him in total melt-down, being comforted by the teachers and having ice applied where the little shark broke skin. I didn't know who the culprit was and I didn't ask (I'm guessing they would've preferred not to tell me), but I figured it out about a week later when I brought David in late and as soon as we walked in the door all of the teachers frantically said, "Where's Miles?" Although I was obviously upset, I didn't blame the teachers because I was fairly confident that this cowardly attack from the back was a split-second decision on Miles' part that they couldn't have seen coming and they pulled them apart immediately.

Today, however, I am significantly more upset with the level of "supervision" in the new classroom David has moved into since he turned two. I will preface this with the background information that David has not re-adjusted well to returning to daycare after two weeks of vacation. I'm sure it doesn't help that he is now full-time in the new classroom with the new teachers and, in my opinion, the teachers in this room are significantly colder than Miss Susan and Miss Stephanie from the toddler classroom that he (and I) loved. Either way, it has been 6 solid days of heart-wrenching tear-fests starting from when I get him out of the car in the parking lot and lasting a few minutes after I leave.

Now back to Salvador and why I've got a hit out on his mom. I arrived to pick David up this afternoon around 5:10. As I normally do, I peeked in the window to see what he was up to before I walk in the door. David was standing on a bench near the reading area. The bench is maybe 8 inches off the ground -- a big rectangular box that is about 4 feet wide and one foot deep. Anyway, he was standing on the bench, holding his bear, and facing the wall. He looked like he was about to jump off the bench, which wouldn't surprise me since jumping is his big thing right now. There were 6 kids in the classroom -- one was on the floor near David reading a book, and the rest were spread out throughout the room playing. The one "teacher" in the room (for the two-year-old room the ratio is 1:6) -- and I use that term in quotes because she's not one of the two regular teachers for this classroom, she just comes in at the end of the day. I'm not sure she is really a "teacher," she certainly never has much information on how David's day was, and I believe she has a tongue-ring because she is very difficult to understand. She also wears way too much eye makeup, but that's probably irrelevant. Anyway, I noticed that the "teacher" wasn't interacting with any of the kids, they were all just doing their own thing. She had her nose in some paperwork (I think the attendance rosters) and wasn't really paying attention what any of them were doing.

Well, in the few seconds that I was peeking in the window before I opened the door to go in, Salvador comes up behind David and pushes him forward off the bench. David lands face-first on the floor and immediately bursts into tears. I rushed in as this was all happening, grabbed him and tried to calm him down, while the "teacher" "yelled" at Salvador. She basically said, "Why did you do that, Salvador? You don't push. David is much younger than you." Anyway, I was able to get David calmed down. He was more shocked than hurt I'm sure since the little bastard pushed him from behind without any warning. Anyway, it was definitely not what I needed to see (or have happen, for that matter) considering how rough the morning drop-offs have been these past two weeks. I didn't discuss the issue with the "teacher" but I'm damn sure going to talk to his regular teachers and the school directors tomorrow. I don't have great hopes that it is going to make any difference, but at least I will have my complaint on record that there needs to be more supervision when you've got a big classroom and six two-to-three-year-olds.

In the meantime, David has moved up to the "top five" on the waiting list for the Base Child Development Center so hopefully we'll get to move him there soon. There are no guarantees, of course, that the teachers there are any better, but it is worth a shot. At the very least the location is much more convenient which will mean my little sleeper can stay in bed a little bit later each morning...