Some co-operation, please, teachers

There's an interesting piece on the site today about whether all-day schooling will be available in Ontario schools for 2010. This became a possibility in June when a long-awaited report by Charles Pascal and others was released.

It called on the province not just to provide all-day kindergarten, but to make schools into hubs for childcare, marrying curriculum and daycare under a single roof. For kids up to age 12, there would be a reliable mix of childcare and studies from 7:30 a.m. until 6 p.m. (the typical hours of a daycare). No more mid-day busing or walking kindergartners to or from daycare. No more four-year wait-lists for coveted after-school programs. No more slack-jawed kids softening in front of the TV in somebody's basement because its the only place that had a spot.

Premier Dalton McGuinty said he'd take the summer to think about it. Not so much the all-day learning part, but the hours outside of school.

Complicating matters, teachers said this summer they won't play nice with early childhood educators (ECEs). No, the people we are counting on -- at least in part -- to shape our children's minds and characters, just don't want to share their classrooms. Or at least the unions representing them say they won't.

Like petulant older siblings who don't want to bunk in with brother or sister, apparently teachers are so concerned with "protecting the integrity of the teaching profession" that they don't even want to high-five an early childhood educator on their way out the door once class is over.

What's boggling about this is that no one wants to take any teaching away from teachers and give it to ECEs. What Pascal, Fraser Mustard and other advocates want is for reliable, enriching, safe childcare to be available in one-stop shops that level the playing field between kids from rich and poor homes, and make life a little easier and more affordable for families.

I find this opposition galling because teachers are the ones who see first-hand the discrepancy in literacy, numeracy and behaviour of kids who spend their preschool years and after-school hours in stimulating environments, compared to those who don't. Kids whose off-school hours are filled making crafts, working on homework and getting exercise under the care of qualified ECEs, are at a huge advantage over those who languish in unstimulating, unlicensed care with a high ratio of kids to caregivers. Or over children who are half-watched at home by a older siblings who may be busy uploading photos to Facebook, while MSN planning their next trips to the mall.

So what do you do if you want the province to implement the recommendations of the Pascal report? You join forces with other parents and start a list of families who want all-day childcare based in your school. You email your MPP. And you tell your child's teacher -- and maybe the shop steward -- that you hope he or she will speak up in favour doing what's best for families.

Make it known that your school community won't stand for teachers who stand in the way of better childcare.

We've got a whole page devoted to the Pascal report. Read more.

High school daze

It was interesting to read the comments on Kristin Rushowy's weekend story about a Toronto high school that plans to shift its start time to 10 a.m. beginning in September 2009.

The pilot project is a response to research that shows that teens experience a circadian shift that means they fall asleep at adult-like bedtimes (quite a bit later, in many cases) but still require child-like amounts of sleep. Couple this with a socio-economic reality that plenty of teens hold part-time jobs in the evening, and it all adds up to bleary eyes and poor attention in the early morning hours.

Response ranged from supportive to indignant. Some felt this was a practical solution that acknowledges advances in what we know about teen brain physiology, not to mention, just plain good sense. Others suggested that giving in to the lazy ways of teens, so to speak, would worsen the work-ethic problems that some feel are already endemic among Gen-Y workers. One even went as far as to say that graduates from Eastern Commerce would go on his "do not hire" list.

It could be argued that resisting this change on the grounds of "we've always done it this way" is akin to holding on to hazing rituals or 24-hour shifts for medical residents, even though both are acknowledged as unwise. I'm looking forward to seeing what teachers, students - and ultimately - test results, will have to say about the program's success. Stay tuned!

School stress

When you look at what you've got on your plate (kids, work, committees, house, garden, food, bills, aging parents, carpooling, Scholastic book orders, salvaging marriage, etc., etc.), compared to your child (school, playdates, colouring, gymnastic, Lego, park, snack,  TV, and so on), naturally, you're going pick yourself as the more stressed individual.

Of course, we know and accept that teens experience all kinds of pressures, but through our grown-up lenses, the life of younger kids can seem pretty sweet and simple. It's easy to forget that they have their own real-life worries, or to dismiss the ones they express as inconsequential.

Sadly, my confident and fun-loving five-year-old seems to be at that age when the notion of peer acceptance dawns, and sometimes that manifests in the oddest ways. It would still never occur to him to be embarrassed by his own nudity, but if a new T-shirt is too big he might say,  "That's so embarassing." When he hurt himself for the third time in short-succession yesterday (an unhappy trifecta of slipping down the basement stairs, bonking his nose on an arm rest and stubbing his toe), he said, "Everyone will think I'm so silly for hurting myself three times." I mean, who cares what they think? And who would I tell? (Oops!) But it's as if, in his mind, his whole senior kindergarten class might get wind of this.

With the return of school and the adjustment to new routines and new relationships that it brings, Concerned Children's Advertisers offers these suggestions for helping children manage stress, however big or small.

• Anxiety about anything new is a normal experience. Share a situation from your

childhood in which you experienced anxiety as a way to let your child know you

understand what he or she is going through.

• Be open and available to talk with your child. Let your child know that you will

always find time to talk about what is going on in his or her life.

• Routines are important to your child’s level of comfort. Set a bedtime, homework

time, sharing time, play time and down time. Try to keep to the schedule as much as

possible.

• Communicate with those who influence your child’s life. As soon as you see

signs of stress, make an appointment to speak with your child’s teachers, coaches

and/or family doctor.

• Maintain important friendships. Reinforce how relationships with friends play an

important role in our lives. Take the initiative to set up play dates for your children with

a variety of their friends.

• Exercise appropriate strategies handling your own stress. Children are very

observant and watch how parents handle stressful situations. Be a good role model

as your child is likely to adopt the strategies you use to cope with stress.

• Eat Smart. A balanced diet, in accordance with Canada’s Food Guide to Healthy

Eating, provides the necessary fuel to nurture your child’s brain and body.

• Move More. Encourage your child to find a good balance between active and passive

activities. Sport, fitness and playtime do a lot to help reduce stress.

• Be Media Wise. Be aware of the content and amount of time in which your child

interacts with various media.

Speaking of stress, here's a story about a teen who has had plenty to deal with, and her quest to dispel myths about mental health.

And check out the passionate exchange happening between readers of this story on the school agenda with an unfortunate typo.

The Allergy story

I never imagined I'd be a one of those peanut moms.

When my first child, Cameron, was about 2 1/2, I was having some peanut butter toast, and he wanted a bite. I was an editor at a parenting magazine at the time, and was well-versed in the prevalence of severe allergies, but I thought, "I've waited long enough; it's probably fine."

Within five minutes, Cameron had thrown up. We hoped it was just one of those random kid vomits, but it was hard not to feel a bit of panic. We mentioned it at our next doctor's visit. "It's probably nothing," she said, "but it might be a good idea to talk about testing him." Before we'd made it to the allergists', he'd accidentally been given a peanut butter candy by a Sunday school teacher who thought she'd procured Halloween-coloured Smarties from the bulk bin. Again he threw up, and this time he turned pale and clammy.

I guess it was no surprise when a scratch test turned up positive, and it's something we've learned to live with, but I went through a strange mourning period, if you'll excuse the hyperbole. I couldn't believe we would have to become those hyper-vigilant people who had to throw wet blankets on birthday parties and trips to the ice cream shop.

If you haven't read Kristin Rushowy's interesting piece about the allergy debate that's popped up surrounding St. Stephen Catholic School, please do. Readers are engaged in a particularly passionate debate.

Long before I became one of those peanut moms, I found it the tenor of people's opposition to food restrictions in shared spaces surprising. After all, what do one individual's snacking preferences amount to stacked up next to someone else's life-threatening allergy? Will it really not be a baseball game if you can only get a ticket in the peanut-free zone?

We see that same anger, and suggestion that the "healthy" child's individual rights are in jeopardy, in the debate happening among this story's commenters. Check it out and add your voice to the debate, or let me know what you think by commenting on this blog.

As for my Cameron, who's active, strong and rarely has a cold or fever, I think he's a perfectly healthy. I guess, like any other parent — with our bottles of hand sanitizer, reminders to look both ways, and "eat-your-vegetables" reprimands — I'm just trying to keep him that way.

Amusements parks and other business

I got nauseous on the "Berry-Go-Round" at the Ukrainian Festival in Bloor West Village a week ago.

Alongside its plates of boiled perogies and cobs of butter-drenched corn, our little local festival features a tot-sized carnival with rides geared to the bouncy-castle set. Climbing inside one of a half-dozen strawberry-shaped huts along with my five year old and three other riders, I felt well within my comfort zone. But within seconds, the mother sitting across from me and I were both willing ourselves not to be ill. In the final moments, I resorted to being a complete wet blanket and forbidding my son and the other boy on the ride from turning the wheel that spun the strawberry on its unholy little axis.

Needless to say I wasn't ready for the Behemoth when we hit Canada's Wonderland on the weekend.

Does anyone out there know why so many of us are less tolerant of dizzy-making rides as we age? Is there some deterioration of the inner ear that occurs to make us queasy on the Gravitron, and even to cause that little flip in the tummy when we try to relive our high-flying days on the swings at the park? Or is it plain-old fear of injury, the kind you simply cannot experience when you have barely a notion of your own mortality, or even that your bones are breakable? I'd love to know.

But maybe some of you had no time to contemplate amusements rides over the weekend because you were inside constructing a solar system out of papier mache or helping your child work through pages of rote math exercises. I encourage you to check out the interesting discussion that is happening in the comments on Kristin Rushowy's story about homework.

Please visit this blog often. I'll point you to some of the interesting stuff we have on the site (if you haven't yet checked out our great finder tools, including listings of all registered daycares, be sure you do), and share a little of my own parenting adventures (and misadventures) as well, too. I welcome your comments and feedback. This blog can also be a place where we discuss and debate some of the issues that come up in the news. If you're wondering where to find the latest on the Chinese tainted milk story, by the way, you can read it here.

And speaking of milk, Dr. Jack Newman's breastfeeding clinic could close because the private funding source is drying up. Let's hope this clinic — which has helped thousands of mothers overcome some of the difficulties that derail breastfeeding — finds another way to keep its doors open. Read Andrea Gordon's article here.