Well, I think I've finally cooled off enough to share a bit about why I was too steamed to blog last week.....and this weekend.
I got a call last Wednesday as I was getting ready to pick up the Bubs from preschool. It was the school's secretary telling me that my son was hurt. He'd been pushed by a classmate into the merry-go-round and that "3 of his front teeth were involved". After I finished chewing her out and got a bit more info, I threw on some clothes and ran out of the house. I called Mom on the way to try to calm myself down, let her know the situation and that we'd be coming to her house since she was closer to the school (to find a dentist to take the Bubs to).
I careened into the parking lot, slammed to a stop and ran in....thinking that I had calmed down enough to have a semi-intelligent conversation. Honey, was I WRONG! I ran around the secretary's desk to find my son sitting off to the side. When I got my first look at him I, to put it succinctly, freaked. He had blood in his mouth and his shirt was liberally covered with it as well. His two front teeth and one incisor were pushed back and obviously loose with bruising on the gums surrounding them. I saw red (yes, literally), instantly told them that we wouldn't be back and started demanding answers. When the phrase "it was just an accident" was used, I quickly informed them that they themselves had informed me that he was pushed. When I demanded to know where the adults were on the playground, I got not one definitve answer. That said a lot. I was so undone, that I started to cry and yell at the incompetent nincompoops. We left. Without any offer from them to procure a incident report. This fact didn't hit me till later that evening....
At the dentist's office x-rays and and an exam took place. Once complete, I was informed that the Bubs was very, very lucky that he hadn't recieved any more damage than he had. If the injury had happened with any more force, the teeth would have been knocked out instantly. If he had hit the bar any higher up on his gums, his permanent teeth that are waiting to come in would have been damaged as well. Y'all, I was sick.
The Bubs was a bit upset, but didn't really understand everything that had gone on at the school. He was upset that I was upset. I so very rarely cry around him and he's never seen me be so out of control before. Poor kid. Here he was with a sore mouth and then his Mom threw the hissy fit to end all hissy fits in the middle of the preschool hallway in front of the director. Oi.
The director called me at home later. Unfortunately for her, I was no longer a weepy mess. Yes, I was in full control of all my faculties and I let her have it....all without raising my voice. I was amazed at the audacity of the woman to blatantly try to sweep the injury of my child under the rug in between making me feel like I was making too big a of a fuss for, again, "just an accident". She even tried to excuse the teacher by saying that she had to watch twelve whole children on the playground (which is tiny, by the way). I laughed at her and told her she would get no sympathy from me. None at all since I had worked in public education and watched 30+ children - some of whom had severe behavioral problems- on much larger playgrounds. After that, she wasn't able to get a word in edge-wise as I verbally tore her a new one. She was surprised to learn that I had even had a conference with the Bubs' teacher a few weeks back about him coming home with scratches and deep bruises that had come from other classmates. She was quickly informed that her deficiency as an administrator was the reason for the breakdown in communication by letting these people stay employed and becoming too comfortable in their positions. Oh, yeah folks...Anna was lettin' her fly.
So to sum up a very stressful few days, because of their negligence my child was injured and they were shady about the circumstances by not answering my questions and not providing sufficient information. The Bubs isn't returning and I will be sending them a dentist bill. My father, who is a public school educator of 30 years, give or take, will be writing a letter to the director's boss detailing his dissatisfaction with their subpar care and has already begun to warn parents away from the facility. He knows a lot of people, y'all!
I trusted them to care for my child for a few hours in the morning everyday. Just a few hours. Apparently that was too much to ask. One of the Bubs' injured teeth fell out today and I wanted to cry all over again.
