This morning I had yet another meeting, so only had about five minutes in the room before the kids came. Right before I had to open the door to let them in the phone rang. It was the same mother who called me a few months ago worried about the boys in my class sexually touching her child.
Same story; she was all up in arms because her daughter said that some boy touched her butt on the bus. Frankly, this might be true. But Mom was talking like my class is full of sexual predators, and I had to tell her, “Ma’am, my class is full of four year olds. And four year olds are not thinking about sex. The boys in my class do not see your child as a girlfriend or as a victim. The only reason a child would act out sexually would be if he had been sexually abused himself, and that would make him a victim. I’ve had sexually abused children in my classes before, and none of the children in this class fit that profile. They are all wonderful and as sweet as can be. And they are four. Four year olds do not think or act in sexual ways. It is possible that they might touch each other on the bottom, but that would be because they don’t yet understand about private parts and don’t see the difference between an elbow and a shoulder and a rear end.”
I managed to get her totally calmed down, for which my assistant principal was grateful — apparently Mom had called her twice, and the behavior lady once.
Meanwhile, I had gestured to Miss Slinger to open the door, so she welcomed the kids to class and got them started on their journals. Ruby’s dad and sister came in with her and hung out for a while, so Ruby’s dad heard the whole conversation on the phone. When I was finally done with the nervous mother, I went to check in with him. Turns out he was waiting to tell me that Ruby’s sister had recently had lice — for the third time — and that while Ruby had come up clean, he thought I should know.
Mental note, lice is a possibility in this class, start being on the lookout.
Then I noticed the clock and realized we were supposed to be arriving at Art at that very minute. So we’d be late, and I’d miss part of my prep time again.
After I got them to Art, Drama Mama called again. She said, “I forgot to ask, but is Princess okay? We fell on the way to the bus stop, and I was just going to turn us around and go back home, but she said she wanted to go to school. Is she okay? Is she hurt? Is she limping?” I rolled my eyes, glad that we don’t yet have videophones at school, and assured her that Princess had come in happy and talkative as usual, and that she was not limping, and had not mentioned anything to us about falling down.
Then one boy started wrestling with another at Art and impulsively bit him. So more phone calls to mothers….
And I haven’t even mentioned the big meeting after the kids left. I think I’ll save that for tomorrow.