Craptastic

Gemma threw God's holy fit at preschool forty minutes ago, screaming that she needed just one more hug and kiss while the teacher held her and snapped at me like a drill sargeant, telling me to leave as my daughter twisted in her arms and pleaded to get down so she could hug me. Elba stood by the door with huge tear-filling eyes, wondering what bizarre Mommy drone this was, who didn't respond to pleas for one more hug and kiss. (Pleas for hugs and kisses are pretty much never ignored in this family. Ever. Damnit.) Wilder had chased all the other kids into the building and lurked back inside the art room, looking up with his big eyes and not coming near the whole disaster.

Needless to say, I need to go upstairs now and cry in the shower. First I'm going to phone the teacher and find out if Gemma's calmed down. After the shower, I'm going to do laundry, compose one of the emotion-light posts I've been prepping in my head for a week (I don't guarantee I'll finish it), and go out for some power-shopping and library browsing.

Item One: Buying a bag of the fancy croutons at Whole Foods, to replace the bag I finished off as soon as I walked back in the door this morning.

Gemma's been increasingly reluctant to say goodbye at school for three weeks now. When I tried to share with the teacher what Gemma said about her reluctance (that she's lonely, which I would bet is linked to the influx of new kids since Christmas, an influx that doubled the kid population and halved teacher attention), the teacher basically blew me off. Not only am I radically rethinking my interest in signing the kids up for the optional extensions (the regular school calendar ends in late April), but if Gemma shows any reluctance at all next Monday, I may just pull her out for good.

No more doubts, though, about switching the kids to the new preschool next year. (I sent in their applications, never in a million years expecting to crack the lottery.) I've gotten subterranean bad vibes off the teacher before -- she's very unschooling, which is [mostly] good, but losing her sympathy abilities, showing a certain rigidity which I'm afraid I'm starting to associate with most folks over sixty, and that loss of sympathy (and, yes, my stereotyping) is terrible -- but after today, I'm done giving her the benefit of the doubt. It's great that the kids (or at least Elba and Wilder, lately) like her, but I'm now officially indifferent, and it's only force of will and respect for my kids that keeps me from open hostility.

Go right ahead and tell me I'm over-reacting, but I did not like the way this felt. All those new kids who've been coming? Their parents have all been allowed to stay for an hour or two, for as many as three weeks. But I have to get the hell out so as not to disrupt the class? The "class" that has no structure whatsoever, no circle time, no regularly scheduled lunchtime, really nothing in terms of academic encouragement that I couldn't provide in a heartbeat at home, if only I weren't exhausted? Give me a fucking break.

Oh, and to top it all off, Julia's embryo is dying. Which totally puts my situation in perspective, but also just makes it an especially glorious morning, don't you think?

Edited to say: Julia still needs your kind thoughts, prayers, and support. Gemma was fine when I picked her up, and had two pictures to show me. I did notice that, for the first time in a month, the teacher had transcribed some descriptive comments onto the pictures. Leading me to believe that Gemma may be fine at least in part because she got more of the feedback/attention she needs. I'm still glad we're going elsewhere next year. Calder strongly suspects that Gemma is simply massively bored in such a curriculum-free environment.