Just in case you were wondering -
If your nine-year-old says, "I'm really pissed off," to his teacher and school administrator, it's not a good thing. You know, in case you weren't sure. I kind of figured that would be a No-No, but it got clarified for me this past week.
My eldest son had a difficult week - ALL last week.
On Monday, when I saw his teachers, they mentioned that he was "off" and not cooperative or polite. So, since he has had a phenomenal past several months, I said, "Well, we all have an off day now and then."
I told this same thing to my son, and mentioned that,
"Tomorrow is a new day, and we can be positive."
On Tuesday, as I was walking down the hallway, I got to witness my eldest throwing himself on the floor, throwing a notebook, and screaming and crying. Isn't this what all parents hope to see when walking in their child's school? I had a moment of thinking, "Can I quickly back out of the hallway unnoticed? Or have I been ----" Too late. I was seen.
My child was melting down in a way we have not seen in a long time. It turns out that the teacher expectations for him were changed this week - he has been doing so well, we raised the bar. Guess what? He was not okay with the change. We sat him down and had a talk with him, went over expectations, and he seemed all right with the world again.
Remember, "Tomorrow is a new day."
Wednesday was good. We had it all under control again. Back on track! (note to self: never think it's "all okay" and we are "back on track").
Thursday, while helping another teacher clean.. .poop off the boys' bathroom floor (and some of you think teachers get paid enough?!?), my son's teacher spotted me and said, "Oh thank goodness you are here! Do you have a minute?"
Hmmm, clean up poop off the floor, or get what can only be a negative report about my eldest son? It was a tough call.
Meeting with teacher: Well, your son was having a great day! Then, when the entire class got in trouble for talking too much, he lost it. When we tried to talk with him and calm him down, I (the teacher) was telling him, "No, this is just how it's going to be." To which, my nine-year-old pointed his finger right back at the teacher and replied, "No, I'm telling you. . ."
Now the school administrator is called in to help.
This only causes him to escalate. As the adults are trying to explain their reasoning to him, he is getting more and more angry, at which point he tells them all, "I am really pissed off!"
So, my son got to spend the rest of the day up in the office with the administrator.
At least I got out of cleaning up the poop.
By Friday, I was seriously contemplating purchasing some of those fake glasses with the big nose and mustache attached, so that when I showed up for dismissal, perhaps I could get through unrecognized and no one would come tell me any more "issues" about my child?
Turns out, Friday was fine. Thank goodness, because I'm not sure either one of us could have handled another rough day.
All throughout the week my son kept saying, "Life's not fair!," and "I can't wait until I'm the grown-up, and no one tells me what to do!". I get that he's feeling like his life is controlled by the adults around him - to an extent it is - he's a kid. However, I struggle with the "Life's Not Fair" view, because there are children in our world who really, really do have an unfair life. I don't want to traumatize my child by comparing his unhappiness with losing his electronics time with a child who lives in a crime-ridden, drug-infested neighborhood who fears getting shot in the crossfire of bullets, and hasn't eaten anything in a few days because there is no money for food. . .but. . .that child does exist, and that child's life is unfair.
I need for my son to learn to control his anger. He must be careful with his words. He needs to learn compassion and empathy for the those less fortunate, and appreciate what he has, which is a lot. I feel like my husband and I try to impart these lessons on our children. I feel like we read, watch the news, have conversations, and model these qualities. As with everything else in parenting, a lot seems to come down to repetition. We must go over these lessons over and over, and over and over again. One of these days, hopefully they will "get it."
In an effort to help my kids understand the power of their words, I did a little teacher lesson I read about a while ago. It had to do with bullying, but I think still applies to be cognizant of one's words. After destroying their paper, and finding it terribly funny to do so - they seemed to sober up when they realized they couldn't un-do the damage they had done to the paper. We talked about how it relates to using words, and that you can say "sorry", but it doesn't un-do what was said - or done. We can only try to do better next time, to limit causing more damage.
I think they understood the point of the lesson, and remember,
Tomorrow is a new day.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Rockin' Run
I feel like I ran a marathon.
In actuality, I only ran 13.1 - of a marathon relay.
This weekend was the Rockin' Marathon Relay. Several months ago, I recruited a few mommy-running friends, and we registered as a team of four for the marathon relay. Starting about a month ago, the mommy runners started backing out. There were various reasons, all doing with - life. It happens. The last mommy runner backed out this past Monday - the week of the race.
I freaked out. I knew I could run 13.1 of the race. . .maybe, maybe 15? But not the entire 26.2. I had not been training, and I really didn't even want to run the entire race - alone. I asked a few friends. It was too last minute, and no one could help. One of the mommy-runners posted on Facebook asking if anyone was interested. No one jumped at the opportunity.
Finally, on Wednesday - in a panic I asked a fellow teacher. She is a runner. She is a very good runner actually. However, I know her weekends are usually quite busy, so I had not initially asked her. I was desperate now. I was in begging mode - so I went, fully prepared to open up a can of full blown begging, tears, if necessary.
She readily agreed!
Science Teacher and myself set up camp at the race. It was a relay race, and we agreed in advance to divide the distance in half, and as each lap of the loop was 1.31 miles, we agreed to run two loops before passing the baton off. Science Teacher ran first.
We both admitted that it took our first two laps for our feet to warm up enough that our toes weren't numb. Luckily, the weather steadily warmed up - and it turned into a beautiful day.
By miles 6-7 my hamstrings were killing me. "What's wrong with me?" I yelled at Science Teacher during one point in my loop, "I normally run 8 miles, no problem."
She said it was the killer hills and the gravel that was causing us problems. I. Hurt. And I still had another 6 miles to go. . .
There were a lot of hills in that 1.3 mile loop. One of the hills rivaled Patrick Johnston Lane hill in Davidson - you locals know what I am talking about. . .that hill is the dread of many a runner locally. So, we had a Patrick-Johnston wannabe hill on our loop, and two mini Patrick Johnstons toward the end of the loop.
Ten laps. Ten times up those hills.
My legs hurt.
By my last two laps I felt like I could barely pick up my feet to clear the rocks and sticks on the gravel trail. I honestly felt like I'd run the full marathon.
I thought this run would be a lot easier because I was splitting it with a friend. She would run two laps, and then I would run two laps. Which meant - I had a break, while she was running. I was too afraid to sit during my "breaks" because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get back up. I did use the breaks as an opportunity to run to a different point on the course to cheer on Science Teacher (and she did the same for me), and to use the restroom, and eat fig newtons. I have not eaten fig newtons in years, but they were on the snack table, and they were yummy.
As I approached the start/finish line for my final lap, Science Teacher yelled, "One more lap, you can do it." Since I was breathing so hard I couldn't speak, I just motioned for her to join me (misery loves company, right? Right!). What did she do? She joined me! Science Teacher - who had already run her 13.1 - ran the final 1.3 miles with me, and we finished together, in under 4 hours.
We got a fun record medal for finishing.
When I first registered, I was supposed to run with 3 other women - so 8 feet running the race - we were "Gr8ful Soles" - which was the name on the back of our shirt. Pretty cool.
We rocked the Rockin' Marathon Relay.
We earned our First Place Gold Record Award.
The paint of the baton came off on our sweaty hands.
In actuality, I only ran 13.1 - of a marathon relay.
This weekend was the Rockin' Marathon Relay. Several months ago, I recruited a few mommy-running friends, and we registered as a team of four for the marathon relay. Starting about a month ago, the mommy runners started backing out. There were various reasons, all doing with - life. It happens. The last mommy runner backed out this past Monday - the week of the race.
I freaked out. I knew I could run 13.1 of the race. . .maybe, maybe 15? But not the entire 26.2. I had not been training, and I really didn't even want to run the entire race - alone. I asked a few friends. It was too last minute, and no one could help. One of the mommy-runners posted on Facebook asking if anyone was interested. No one jumped at the opportunity.
Finally, on Wednesday - in a panic I asked a fellow teacher. She is a runner. She is a very good runner actually. However, I know her weekends are usually quite busy, so I had not initially asked her. I was desperate now. I was in begging mode - so I went, fully prepared to open up a can of full blown begging, tears, if necessary.
She readily agreed!
Science Teacher and myself set up camp at the race. It was a relay race, and we agreed in advance to divide the distance in half, and as each lap of the loop was 1.31 miles, we agreed to run two loops before passing the baton off. Science Teacher ran first.
We both admitted that it took our first two laps for our feet to warm up enough that our toes weren't numb. Luckily, the weather steadily warmed up - and it turned into a beautiful day.
By miles 6-7 my hamstrings were killing me. "What's wrong with me?" I yelled at Science Teacher during one point in my loop, "I normally run 8 miles, no problem."
She said it was the killer hills and the gravel that was causing us problems. I. Hurt. And I still had another 6 miles to go. . .
Wonderful, amazing Science Teacher - who ended up running 14.5 in this relay, and is running another 5 mile race tonight.
There were a lot of hills in that 1.3 mile loop. One of the hills rivaled Patrick Johnston Lane hill in Davidson - you locals know what I am talking about. . .that hill is the dread of many a runner locally. So, we had a Patrick-Johnston wannabe hill on our loop, and two mini Patrick Johnstons toward the end of the loop.
Ten laps. Ten times up those hills.
My legs hurt.
By my last two laps I felt like I could barely pick up my feet to clear the rocks and sticks on the gravel trail. I honestly felt like I'd run the full marathon.
I thought this run would be a lot easier because I was splitting it with a friend. She would run two laps, and then I would run two laps. Which meant - I had a break, while she was running. I was too afraid to sit during my "breaks" because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get back up. I did use the breaks as an opportunity to run to a different point on the course to cheer on Science Teacher (and she did the same for me), and to use the restroom, and eat fig newtons. I have not eaten fig newtons in years, but they were on the snack table, and they were yummy.
As I approached the start/finish line for my final lap, Science Teacher yelled, "One more lap, you can do it." Since I was breathing so hard I couldn't speak, I just motioned for her to join me (misery loves company, right? Right!). What did she do? She joined me! Science Teacher - who had already run her 13.1 - ran the final 1.3 miles with me, and we finished together, in under 4 hours.
We got a fun record medal for finishing.
When I first registered, I was supposed to run with 3 other women - so 8 feet running the race - we were "Gr8ful Soles" - which was the name on the back of our shirt. Pretty cool.
We rocked the Rockin' Marathon Relay.
We earned our First Place Gold Record Award.
Who cares that we were the ONLY two women team, and therefore 1st place no matter what?
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