If you believe that there’s no reason to have a parents-teacher meeting in preschool, you are wrong! The targets set at these events are elaborate and inspiring… An Oxbridge application will soon follow a target such as “recognising shapes in everyday objects”. Doesn’t it???
Don’t get me wrong, it is a pleasure to hear about how B and T are progressing, but I struggle to keep a straight face when I read some of the reports. I am also fluent in teacher’s speak, so I can translate the report into English.
T is very confident = T is a little know-it-all
T is curious about the world around him and often asks adults when he wants help in his learning = T keeps on asking WHY? every three seconds
B is able to focus when playing with jigsaws = B never sits down unless there’s a jigsaw to play with
T is learning to share with others = T only snatches toys from other children, but he doesn’t bite or shove them on the floor anymore
B enjoys sharing his knowledge of Italian with his key person = B is cheeky and speaks whatever language he fancies and his key person struggles to understand him
At the end of an evening like this, I go home with the knowledge that both of my boys are growing up well and have a lot of fun with their friends.
That’s all one can ask for.
When you are a twin, your brother (or sister) is always with you. ALWAYS. He was there when you were born, when you started eating solids and when you couldn’t sleep at night, but most importantly he is here now… When you wake up or go to sleep, eat or go to the toilet, play or watch TV. Whatever you do, your twin is there.
To me this sounds very oppressive and limiting, but if you, like my children, have never known anything different, you have probably grown accustom to this. What you have to ask yourself is “am I going to be the superhero or the sidekick today?”. I’m lucky that both of my children are confident enough to take either role with a smile.
If you have a wingman with you at all times, you can easily manipulate all games and activities offered by your parents or nursery staff alike.
When the ladies at nursery set up 12 little chairs into two neat rows as to resemble a plane, they didn’t know that T and B had a different plan in mind. T was put in front, as the pilot, but that didn’t last long… He went from pilot to train driver in no time. When he shouted to B that they were about to leave the station, B got straight into character and started checking tickets on the train.
The idea of the plane was a good one, but I guess that no one could have predicted the twins hijacking the plane!
A few weeks ago T came back from nursery talking about a ghost. It seemed a little strange, but we didn’t pay too much attention to it. T seemed fine once daddy made the ghost run away from the living room.
A few weeks went by and everything seemed back to normal. One evening though, the ghost came back. This time he was found in the downstairs toilet. As a consequence T refused to use that toilet for days. Thank God we have another one upstairs!
I contacted the nursery to enquire about this “scary ghost”, but no one seemed to know anything about it. In the main time the ghost had left the toilet (at least according to T), so we all moved on with our lives. Later on that week, a book with a “scary ghost” was found and removed from the nursery library. Surely we had seen the last of him!
Last night the ghost came back (again!). This time both boys were so scared they didn’t want to eat dinner. They wanted all the lights on and couldn’t be left alone. Strangely though, once we went upstairs to bed, they seemed to have forgotten about the ghost and were even happy to be in the dark.
Teaching the boys about “feelings” wasn’t the nursery best idea so far. The two main results are: B smiling while saying “I’m sad, mummy” and both boys terrified of a ghost. One thing is certain. I’m not looking forward to seeing the result of the lesson about being angry… They might destroy my living room!
As a secondary school teacher, I’m not really a fan of parents evenings. It generally means talking to 26 pairs of adults in the space of 2 hours in a freezing cold gym. Not my favourite pastime. Parents evening at nursery though is very different…
First of all, you need to sit on tiny tiny chairs. This creates an atmosphere which is much better than the aforementioned freezing gym. Strangely my first thought was “is this going to break?”, but my immediate reaction also was “Don’t be stupid! Now, shall I sit on the red one or the blue one? “. As an adult, you don’t usually get to choose the colour of your chair anymore. It is obviously a sad part about getting older.
The conversations were centered around much more important things than GCSE subject options. For example with T’s key person the main topic was “stickers for pooing on the potty”. A much more pressing matter!
Although we agreed that B is not trying hard enough to talk at the moment and that his vocabulary could be expanded, we also agree that we are not to worried about his GCSE English language exam in 2031.
We set targets for T:
1) Learn to count to 5
2) Learn the colours
For B we decided to let him choose what to learn next as there would be no point otherwise. For example he knows all the sounds of animals (such as cow, lion, snake, et …), but it has been two weeks that for daddy he only does the sealion noise.
In many ways this was a typical teacher- parent meeting, but it was definitely so much more fun not to be the teacher for once!
I waited a while to write this story because I was waiting for a verdict and the FULL investigation to close, but I can now share the full extend of what it might seem like an episode of a TV series, but it’s actually what really happened at the boys’ nursery a while ago.
One day my husband was called into the manager’s office and asked to sit down. “I have something to discussed about B” the nursery manager said. My poor husband was already tired from a long day at work and about to have dinner with the twins without mummy. He really didn’t have time for this, but he kept listening, wondering who had B bitten that day and why it was so important today. To his enormous surprise B hadn’t bitten anyone, but apparently he had been the victim of child mistreatment. Child services were called and a full investigation was taking place. “As his parent we thought you should be aware and for your peace of mind we have suspended the member of staff involved in the incident” concluded the nursery manager. My husband’s jaw dropped inadvertently.
What really happened is that someone woke up B by splashing his face with a couple of drops of water. THAT’S ALL!
I can only imagine how B would have reacted to that and I feel I should have apologised to the staff member… sending an Italian child to an English nursery, what was I thinking?! I bet he screamed the place down!
I personally believe the nursery went a little over the top this time, but child safety do come first and I’m glad my boys are in a super safe environment.
On Thursday evening I arrived home a little late, so my husband was already feeding the twins dinner. I got closer to say hi and I noticed that T had a scratch on his right cheek which was still bleeding. I immediately thought it just happened and that he probably had done it to himself by mistake. A few minutes later though, my husband started to tell me all about what happened at nursery that day…
“So apparently T was scratched by this horrible child” my husband started to narrate the story. “They were fighting over a scooter or a bike outside and this child just went up to him and scratched him! He was too fast, so the nursery staff couldn’t do anything.” To myself I did agree this child was a little horrible, but he was also a child. It happens. But then my husband carried on: “I mean, over a bike! I can’t believe somebody could behave like that. Look at his face! It is still bleeding now!” I was starting to see his point. Well, maybe I should talk to the room leader, I thought. It is a little worrying that a child could do that to T. Ah well, one more thing to do tomorrow then. A phone call or maybe I could even go and pick the boys up and have a word…
“Well, at least B’s day was alright, wasn’t it?” I asked my husband. “Yes” he said, “although I had to sign a form for him as well.” “Really? What for?” I asked checking B for other bloody injuries. “Apparently he scratched this poor child who wanted to use a scooter or a bike or something…” My husband said with a cheeky smile.