I hate being “That Mom.” I didn’t like those broads before I had kids, and they still make me crazy. But I’m beginning to get it.
I think it started with the diagnosis of BoyChild’s peanut allergy when he was three years old. Suddenly I had to deflect all danger from this kid in a way I had not dealt with before. Instead of just worrying he would fall down the stairs or choke on his peaches, I had to find some way to control his food intake when everyone we came into contact with wanted to feed my kid. I‘ve said this before, but he is an EATER.
We had a lock on the pantry for 2 years not to protect him from allergens, for we had long ago disposed of anything suspect, but because he would sit down and eat 5 slices of bread in one sitting. He would spoon Ovaltine into his chubby little mouth. And on more than one occasion, I have found him elbow deep in the mayo. His Grammy says he is a joy to cook for.
So, everyone who shows up brings some li’l sumpin sumpin for him, and I have to be the mean Food Police, the big ole downer to say, “I’m sorry, but those fresh baked cookies that you just brought over might kill him.”
The part that irked me most of all is that I’m just not that person with my kids. I don’t answer questions for them. I don’t do anything for them that I’m pretty sure they could take on. On a day-to-day basis, I’m much meaner to my kids than that. There are no special dinners just because you don’t like what we’re eating (oh wait, that never happens). I limit all options and expect them to deal with it.
School began last week. We all woke up and got dressed and walked BoyChild to the bus stop. We took some pictures and waved “goodbye” And so began the week of letters to and from his teacher. The first day, we had dropped off all his school supplies including snacks galore. At snack time, she wouldn’t allow him to eat anything because she was freaked out about the allergies. He’s a pretty easy-going kid, so no drama ensued, but still…I bought the snacks. So, I wrote a nice little note explaining he could eat those. By the time she wrote me back, on Wednesday, she said those snacks were gone because the other kids ate them and could I bring in some more? Okaaay. I wrote back and said, “Sure!”
All week, he would come home and say he was bored. “All they do is baby stuff.” Getting him up in the morning was a struggle. He was hating it. And that was unlike him. When he complained that he didn’t have time to finish his lunch, I told him he should talk less and eat more. When he complained that he has to use the bathroom only at the bathroom time when the whole class goes, I told him that that’s the way they do it there and his body will adjust (but ask your teacher to go if you can’t hold it.)
Then on Friday, he brought home his work for the week and it was sad. He had a folder of the most basic work, recognizing colors and “find all the squares on the page” kind of crap. He’s a bright kid, sure. But he’s almost six. We’re a little past “can you find the blue triangle” stage. His report for the week said he was having trouble paying attention. Another telling sign for me.
Like any mother, I know my kid. He can be a real pain in my ass and he can be bratty and impossible. But a few things are givens with him. He is socially adaptable in most every situation. He is eager and ready for anything. He thrives if he is engaged even a little. He can sit and concentrate for long periods of time. And he loves school. He craves it. He loves the kids, he loves the activities, he loves the teachers. That’s never been an issue.
All I could think about was the Montessori principle of capitalizing on a child’s inherent desire to learn. Children learn to hate school because of their experiences. Hating school is not inevitable. But this is how it goes…kids are bored, not challenged or not getting the help they need. They are not connected, not engaged, and everything is geared to the group instead of the individual child. If we didn’t get this right, and soon, he would be lost.
So, I sent a very nice letter to his teacher asking if we could find a time to talk about the kindergarten curriculum and what our options are in terms of something more advanced. I explained that there will be discipline issues if he’s bored and tried not to make it sound personal at all.
Later that day, the school principal called me to discuss it.
So, on Monday, the principal walked BoyChild to his new classroom with his new teacher (certified in Gifted curriculum). He will be assessed this week and the class will be broken into groups according to abilities then each group will be taught accordingly. He will also be going to a 1st grade class for part of the day for reading and math. But he gets to hang with his li’l buddies for Art and PE and all the fun stuff.
A few hours later, his new teacher called me to introduce herself and ask me personally what the deal is with his allergy. I was delighted. She also loves next door to my Boot Camp trainer. It is destiny, I tell you.
Yesterday, BoyChild bought his lunch for the first time. When I asked him about what he ate, he said he had some chicken nuggets and some peaches. “There was some cake thing but it didn’t have ingredients on it so Ms. Phillips said I shouldn’t eat it.”
“She walked with you through the lunch line?”
“Yep. She helped me get all my food and asked the lunch lady about all the foods.”
I heart Ms. Phillips. This is why she was Teacher of the Year last year. He is in good hands. Guess that means I should let go a bit, huh?
