Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: May 18, 2006, Beth’s age: 8

Let me say that most of the folks we’ve dealt with at my daughter’s school have been wonderful. They’ve been kind, patient, understanding, and caring. All the same, next year my daughter will be going to a different school.

Why is she going to a different school? It’s a long story, one I don’t have the energy or inclination to tell right now… but here’s the abbreviated/censored version: Beth’s third grade teacher. Every one of the conditions these kind, patient, understanding, and caring school professionals carefully laid out for Beth to succeed in school were conditions that Beth’s third grade teacher either ignored or outright contradicted. We had our last meeting at Beth’s old school this morning, and the staff (sans Beth’s teacher – per usual) acknowledged Beth didn’t get what she needed from her teacher. One of them said she was sorry.

There’s just one problem with being sorry… it doesn’t change anything that’s already happened. I just wish someone was sorry six months ago when we wanted to switch teachers. I just wish someone was sorry when we pointed out time and again the teacher’s failure to abide by the school’s policies. I wonder if someone will still be sorry when they review this teacher’s performance in the future. Is it standard procedure for teachers to ignore counselor’s and paid consultant’s recommendations? What’s the point of having guidance counselors, psychologists, and social workers on the payroll if their advice is ignored?

I’ll bet I know what you’re thinking. “With all of those people involved, I wonder what’s wrong with this kid? I wonder what her parents have done to make all of this necessary?”

You know what? I wouldn’t blame you. I’ve seen misbehaving kids in public and I’ve wondered the same thing about their parents. If you’ve done any reading here before, you know I’ve blamed myself many times. All I can say is I’m trying.

Dear God I’m trying.

Is it too much to expect the same from her teacher?

To be fair, this is the first problem we’ve had with a teacher at this school. Her other teachers have been wonderful. But it’s a sign the administration is a gutless shill for the teachers – good or bad.

We won’t be around for another roll of the dice.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 20, 2006, Beth’s age: 8

Beth and I were leaving Tae Kwon Do and I heard the sound of sudden submersion behind me. I looked back and saw Beth up to her shins in water.

(Defensively) “Dad, I stepped in a puddle by accident!”

(Angrily) “Beth, that’s the only puddle in the parking lot and you had to walk about ten feet out of your way to get to it. The only thing accidental about it is you didn’t mean to get soaked half way up to your knees – because you didn’t expect it to be so deep.”

(Sheepishly) “How did you know dad?”

(Honestly) “Been there, done that, Beth.”

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jul 10, 2005, Beth’s age: 7 (almost 8)

Last week we had a little problem getting Beth ready in the morning. Gaping, bleeding wounds will do that to you. She was feeling playful and decided to hide under her bed after we asked her to get dressed. Unfortunately, she caught her leg on something sharp and we wound up in the ER rather than the rec center (for summer camp).

“Dad, were you angry with me when I cut my leg?”

“No Beth, I’m not angry with you. I was angry when you didn’t listen this morning, but I wasn’t angry that you cut your leg, I was just worried.”

“Dad, I wish I could go back in time and get dressed instead of hiding under the bed, then I’d be at camp right now.”

“That’s true Beth, but it will be o.k. Sometimes we all learn lessons the hard way. Even your mom and dad.”

“So listening and getting ready this morning would have been the easy way?”

“I think so.”

Beth thinks about this for a few moments, before asking a question.

“Dad, what would be the medium way?”