'Twas The Night Before

'Twas The Night Before

Sep 1, 2016, 2:24:29 AM Life and Styles

‘Twas the night before the first day of school, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring.  Know why not?  Because they’re ready to go back to school.  And that is without me prompting them with leading questions.  I’m happy to say the kids are ready.  Me?  Not so much.  The boys have negotiated “better” bedtimes (or so they think, but come on, do they not really know who’s in charge?), and I’m staying up only as late as it takes me to finish here.  They’re finishing up their evening routines right now–brushing teeth, washing up, selecting their clothes for tomorrow–and I hear this deep voice booming from above me.  Surely this can’t be my son.  Surely this voice cannot belong to my 9 pound, 8 ounce, 22-1/2 inch long newborn whose first day of K4 was just last week?

I spoke with my big kid’s home base teacher at the open house last night about his MD.  It’s such a weird way to lead, but it’s got to be addressed.  “Hi, I’m Wendy.  You know my kid has MD, right?”  She posed a few specific questions about his needs, and even offered up a suggestion I’d never considered.  He’s anxious like I am sometimes when the crunch of time seems to be more a CHOMP! than a crunch.  When he tries to move quickly in response, sometimes his fingers respond in concert with his intent, and sometimes they sorta give him the middle finger all on their own.  He drops things in his haste, and then his locker contents flow and/or spew from his locker to the floor.  The Mt. Saint Mauna Loa OMG I’m Gonna Be Late! of a locker volcanic eruption can be prevented (usually) with the simple addition of a few seconds.  It occurred to me just now that I didn’t ensure he’s been assigned a top locker, and my stomach hurts over it.  Epic fail, mom.  Nice one.  Please let the alphabetical order wizards work so that he gets a top locker.  Pleeeeeeease?  He’s 5′ 10″ so even without a disease that renders him slower to maneuver, a bottom locker would be ruinous.

My son and I had a series of brief, but good talks (for reals I mean that this time) about seventh grade this week.  He asked why I thought it was so hard for kids, and I explained as best I could about how evolving adolescent bodies make evolving adolescent minds do stupid stuff.

He asked about swearing, because ALL of his friends swear don’t you know?, and he wants to too.  I told him I wouldn’t command him not to curse, but I took a line from a supervisor with whom I work whose words stuck with me so much I wrote them down for future reference.  And here I am:  future mom.  I told him that profanity makes ignorance audible.  I got the eyes up and to his right questioning look from him, and we discussed what that means.  I also straight up told him I’m a terrible potty mouth, and no role model in this department.  His two word reply laid me out:  I know.

He actually admitted he had a crush on a girl, but alas, thinks he’s not super crushing on her anymore. That’s OK, I told him–there will be others.  Again with the brevity:  I know.

One of his good friends has moved to another school, news we learned only yesterday.  I’m so sad at his departure, but my big kid handled the news better than I’d hoped.  His friend got a phone and wants to text with my kid, but my child doesn’t have a cell phone yet.  Good thing his birthday’s next month.  We’re jumping on that bandwagon a wee bit earlier than we’d have otherwise, but we’re OK with the decision.  Which actually hasn’t happened yet, so I’ll have plenty of time to second and fifty-second guess myself.  He’s already lost an iPod.  But at least he hasn’t gnawed away at the rung of my dining room chair like his dog did this evening.  My dog is trying to murder me.  That feels like a blog title now that I see it in print.  Stay tuned.

Big Kid, 1; New Dog, 0; My sanity, -373722736189.

As for my school readiness?  I’d totally bomb my standardized test were there one I was forced to take tomorrow.  It’s my 45th first day of school–kindergarten through high school, college, graduate school for my master’s degree, and 26 years working in the public school system–and my 4,779th day of working in my district.  Friday is our opening large group meeting, and I’m closing the meeting with our monthly thought–a message meant to get our 181 speech paths reflecting on their practice or maybe just a happy or thought-provoking idea to take away.  I haven’t quite pieced it all together, but its focus is on happy.  Not work-specific happy, just happy.  I’ll let you know if I kill or crash and burn.  Happy first day of school, Wisconsin.

Published by Wendy Weir


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