Interesting Turn of Events

So, remember how T had a scratching incident at daycare and I went in to have a little “Let’s talk about how we can work together to teach T to keep his hands to himself” meeting? The meeting went well and we decided to start using a chart to reinforce his good behavior. When he refrained from hitting, pushing, etc all day, he got a sticker which he then cashed in for a prize from me (sometimes it was a toy car and sometimes it was a trip to the ice cream shop). I have since been a lot more actively involved and consistent in guiding the interaction between him and his sister at home (The dishes can wait! I’m molding my son into a decent human being!). I’ve also borrowed this great book recommended to me by a friend called Hands are Not For Hitting and I enjoy reading this to him because it clearly, simply explains proper ways to use our hands versus improper ways to use our hands (E.g. Hands are not for hitting. Hands are for eating and drinking.). I’ve developed a mantra that I repeat to him several times a day: “Hands are for helping, not hurting.” I read somewhere (If I had a nickel for every time I said that…) that it’s good to emphasize the positive action whenever possible, so I’m always looking for a way to remind him what he SHOULD do instead of just what he should NOT do.

ANYWAY. Enough back story. At some point during the meeting, the topic of my profession (kindergarten teacher) came up and they stopped dead in their tracks and completely switched gears to tell me about their search for a part time Reading (in English) teacher. I was surprised, yet flattered, and I thanked them for the info and told them I’d give it a think. Talked to my husband and in laws, thought about transportation, babysitting, time requirement, and all the other little obligations, and eventually decided that it wasn’t the right time (or fit. Or both.). Little did I know, this place does not like taking no for an answer!

Several weeks, modified propositions (from both of the directors) and inquiries later, I have myself a job (albeit a teeny tiny one)! I don’t know why they wanted me on their staff so badly, but they pretty much bent over backwards to make it possible for me to work there. Must be my infectious personality and heart stopping good looks. I’ve decided there must be a reason the issue just kept resurfacing and never going away. Maybe it was the universe telling me this is what I’m meant to do right now. I’ll let you know how it goes!



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