by ayallawt | October 5, 2009 12:04 pm
Today was my little girl’s first day in her new daycare. In the “big kids” group. This time, we won the battle.
Being born in the end of October awkwardly destined my daughter to the “up to 24 months” group, just when she was about to turn two. Now, that might sound a little petty to those of you who don’t have children, but the difference between an 18 months old and a two year old can be quite distinct. My daughter learns to count, to negotiate at the dinner table and to sing her favorite songs. She knows the difference between big and small and has quite a large vocabulary plus the capacity to completely forget it at will once she decides to throw a tantrum.
Last time I entered in her original classroom, I saw her marching as tall as her 78 centimeters will allow, completely commanding the room full of silent young toddlers, still wobbly on their feet. That’s when I decided, for their own good of course, to try and get her surrounded by her equals. Now try to explain that to the administrative technician (what ever happened to good old “receptionist”) who repeatedly refused to understand why I don’t accept the age classification of the allmighty excel sheet as a reason to say “No”.
This is where my husband comes in. In a facility full of small children, hurried mothers and busy caretakers of the female variety, a carefully directed masculine smile can make a world of difference. So I just happened to bring him along when I went to speak to the director lady and voilà! suddenly the firm “No” turned into a “write us a formal letter and we will see” kind of thing. We struck gold. Two weeks after the charm attack my little one graduated to the toddlers group. Yay! Now let’s just hope that in addition to her color groups, they will manage to teach her to eat something every once in a while.
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