Yesterday, around 10:30am, I got the call: my son had bit yet another classmate–the third biting incident this week–and was being suspended for two full days.
My husband picked him up yesterday morning. He can’t go back until Wednesday.
At the meeting with the director we will discuss how to proceed. Part of that discussion will focus on when they have sufficient grounds to kick our son out.
I really don’t know what to do. He knows he shouldn’t bite. He can recite the text from “Teeth are Not for Biting” verbatim. He is constantly telling us that teeth are for eating, not friends. He KNOWS all of this, but when his friend won’t hand over the ball he’s asked for on the playground, my son bites.
The last time we had a problem with biting at school (when he was suspended for one day), he was also biting at home. We could watch when it was happening, intervene and help him through his big feelings. Now we don’t see any biting at home, even though he gets frustrated plenty. I have no idea why all of the sudden he’s biting every day at school.
This was already such a hard week at work, to be worried about getting a call to pick up my kid because he bit someone compounded my stress exponentially. Now I need to take a day off next week to stay home with my son.
I really don’t know what to do. I don’t agree with the preschool’s policy on biting, and I recognize that we should seriously consider finding another care provider (or that we may have to if we get kicked out), but there are so few quality daycares in the city, I doubt we could find a spot for him on such short notice.
I’ve read enough to know that the next step is assigning our son a “shadow teacher” to watch him closely and interven when he bares his teeth. I don’t know if the school has the personnel for that kind of one-on-one attention, or if they will allow us to pay someone to do it. I want to believe they will be willing to support us, but I’ve seen them come to logger jams with the families of other boys who are having “issues.”
I hate feeling powerless and helpless, and potentially totally fucked. Sometimes being a working parent is so incredibly complicated. Between the guilt I feel for having to put him in care because I work, and how thoroughly we depend on our daycare to provide that service, I don’t know how to think about this rationally. The whole situation is crazy making, especially when I have no idea how or when it might be resolved.