Perhaps because Sasha hasn’t yet entered the worlds of day care, preschool or kindergarten, I’m a little mystified by some of the controversies—or, as I see it, non-controversies—surrounding these institutions. For example, at Sharon Elementary School, in Robbinsville, N.J., administrators have made the apparently revolutionary decision to have recess before lunch–a move that, according to the New York Times, “appears to have led to some surprising changes in both cafeteria and classroom”:
Schools that have tried it report that when children play before lunch, there is less food waste and higher consumption of milk, fruit and vegetables. And some teachers say there are fewer behavior problems.
Seems like a wholly good move, right? And yet, there are naysayers who complain about the logistical difficulties of storing outerwear and installing hand sanitizers (don’t they have sinks and soap?) and the problem of low-income urban kids arriving at school already hungry. (If they’re hungry already, though, what’s another half-hour wait for a meal?)
But that’s nothing compared to what’s going on in the Scott Brown-electing state of Massachusetts. In Haverhill, the liberal commie tea-partying independentistas are … making 4-year-olds brush their teeth! At school! You can understand the reaction:
“I don’t want someone’s hand in my child’s mouth,” said Sarah Brodsky, a teacher at First Path Day Care in Watertown and mother of 4-month-old Noah. “It’s a little too much” government intervention, Ms. Brodsky added.
For me, this strikes particularly close to home, and not just because, when I was growing up about 100 miles west of Haverhill, I had to endure the horrors of daily (or was it weekly?) swish-and-spit, with the choice of orange- or root-beer-flavored fluoride foam. And not just because I was a reluctant brusher myself, who only really got into the habit in high school. And not just because when it came to my orthodontia, I was the most neglectful patient Dr. Zgrodnik ever had, missing appointments with a perverse regularity and wearing my retainer for a good 10 3 minutes the day I got it before removing it from my mouth and consigning it to the cookie-crumb-strewn bottom of my backpack.
No, I took instant notice of this because, even though Sasha is just 14 months old, she already has dental issues. That is, a couple of weeks ago, she chipped her front tooth. It’s just a little nick on the corner, almost unnoticeable, and we don’t even know how it happened. It hasn’t affected her eating (we don’t think), but her dentist—her dentist!—now wants us to carefully brush her six (six!) teeth both morning and night. If Sasha seems in serious pain, or if the tooth discolors, we have to act fast. Sheesh.
Did Jean and I somehow pass on genetically bad teeth? Jean’s really aren’t great—she’s had numerous root canals. And while mine are in surprisingly fine shape, just like my mother’s, my dad has some periodontal issues—just like his mother had. Does anyone know which side we generally inherit tooth genes from?
All of which is to say that, given my own less-than-diligent habits and Sasha’s potentially less-than-stellar birthright, I’m only too happy to have the gub’mint mandate a daily scrubbing. In fact, the more I can get schools and other institutions to do for me (and for Sasha), the happier I’ll be. Isn’t that why schools—and hospitals and dance classes and kennels summer camps—exist, to take care of what we either don’t know how to do (plié, anyone?) or don’t have time for?
Playdates have been foremost on my JP agenda of late. He’s three and a half, which means the parallel play phase has generally faded. He’s ready for buddies. It’s a good thing for him socially, I think, and given his hyperdrive-level need for physical activity, letting him duke it out with the neighborhood children (in a safe, giving, loving environment) is good for me too.
