Growing and Testing and Growing and Trying

Dear Mr. A,

I love you for many many reasons.  This picture on the right staring at me as you get ready to head off on your first day of your last year of pre-school makes me fall in love with you even more.  You're as handsome as your dad and your personality oozes forth like rain bursting from a puffy rain cloud. 

This week, though, you and I have had to navigate our way together.  We each have a different compass - mine is 34 yrs old and yours is only 4.  You think yours is right and I think mine is right.  We'll get there eventually, right?!

I write this post so that 10, 15, even 20 years from now we will be able to laugh together at the week that made us both cry - a lot.  Laughter is better than crying, I think.

On Monday you and I visited your new pre-school.  We met your teacher, I sat across the table from her on those chairs made for your bum, not mine, and, in the 10 minutes I had with her, spewed forth a litany of wonderful things that she would come to love about you - you have a new sister, you have tubes in your ears (so don't get mad at you if it sometimes seems you're ignoring her - she's a SUPER soft talker), you are the best big brother Miss M could ask for, you are adventuresome, fearless, tough, energetic, but oh-so-rambunctious.  You are tender and sensitive.  You are happy.  I asked her to help you finish learning how to write your name and to be so prepared for Kindergarten next year.  I even let her in on the fact that you sometimes cry and hold your hand over your mouth when your feelings get hurt, but that your mouth is not injured and you can turn off the waterworks on a dime.  Sorry. 

And, so it was with great anxiousness that I dropped you off on Tuesday morning at 9:02 (I was only 2 minutes late - and, considering the fact that you had ALL eaten breakfast, you and Miss M both had clothes on, your hair done with bows  for your sis, and your snack bag was full, I didn't feel one bit bad about that) A.M.  I swung through the drop-off line, Teacher Ruth Ann opened your door, you grabbed your bag and shouted as you bounded out that door, "Love you, Mom!"  "I love you, Mr. A.  Have a GREAT first day!"  I subsequently called your dad and told him that it was the one moment I wished we hadn't instilled such independence in our children.  I kind of wanted you to cry and scream and insist that I come with you and that you just couldn't leave me.  But, no.  You were gone without so much as even a longing glance back. 

I kept my cell phone near me all morning.  It didn't ring once, so I was so excited when I pulled back into the school at 11:59 to pick you up and hear all about your day.  You came out of the door holding Teacher Carol's hand and looking like you'd just been sorely scolded.  I couldn't quite figure out what was wrong.  Teacher Carol opened the car door and you promptly sat in your seat, crossed your arms, scowled your face, and wouldn't look at me.  "What's wrong?" I asked her

C: "Well, he's probably acting like this because we had a little incident today."
Me: "Oh no!  What happened?" - thinking she would tell me you had hit, pushed, or yelled at someone.
C: "Well, he urinated in the classroom."
Me: "He WHAT?????  Did he not know where the bathroom was?  But, he still has his same orange shorts on and this is my child who has not even once WET the BED!"
C: "Well, it was reported to me as intentional."
Me: "WHAAAATTT????  I'm sorry I'm maybe not getting it, but can you give me some more detail?"
C: "Well, I don't know much else and if he just pulled his ***** out, or pulled down his pants, or what, but I'd love to hear whatever you can find out.  He has apologized for it, and said it would not happen again, but please let me know."
Me: "Ummmm, ok.  Thanks for the information."

I drove away and had to think fast.  What should I say and what should I do so as not to inflict lasting damage, not to make a big deal out of it, yet find out what happened, and help you understand why it shouldn't have.

Our conversation:
Me: "Mr. A, how was school today?"
A: "Oh, it was great, Mom!  I liked it, but, Mom, you didn't wave at me!!!"
Me: "What?  Is that why you're mad?"
A: "Ya, Mom.  I was waving at you  in the window and you didn't wave at me."

Aside to Teacher Carol: Dear Teacher, Mr. A was not in the least bit upset that something had happened in your classroom.  He was mad at his mother for not waving at him even though she had not seen him at all nor did she know she needed to wave.  Please know, however, that she now comes in to the pick up line with her window rolled down and her arm waving like an American flag on the 4th of July - hugely and proud - even though she can't see a darn thing.  So, please make sure Mr. A continues to wave so that his mom doesn't look so crazy.

Not wanting to discuss what had happened with the other kids in the car, I asked you about your new friends, if your snack was ok, and how your music class had been.  My mind was racing, though, with what could have possibly made you do something like this.  Where had your dad and I gone wrong?  I was sad for you.  I was sad that your teacher would think this was the kind of boy you are.  I was sad that I had not been there in the moment to see how it had been handled. 

I made everybody lunch and you and Miss M were playing your usual games.  I turned around at one point, though, and you wound up and wailed on your sister.  She started screaming and I marched you to time out.  You were wailing and would not stop.  No amount of coaxing or threats helped.  I finally went in and could not hold back my own tears.  Through cloudy eyes I said, "Mr. A, I love you.  I want you to be happy.  But what you did to your sister makes me so sad.  What is going on???!"  You cried harder and came to embrace me and I cried harder too.

We both recovered and I got Miss M down for a nap. 

I sent a text to your dad: "DH, please call me when you land in OKC.  There was an incident at school today."  I should have added, "And, I have absolutely no idea how to handle it."

I gave you a homemade Chocolate Chip cookie that only you got to have as a special treat for your first day.  "Come sit with me and let's talk for a minute."

Me: "Mr. A, what really happened in your classroom today?"
Mr. A: "Mom, I just didn't know my pee-pee was coming."
Me: "Mr. A, if you didn't know your pee-pee was coming you would have gone in your shorts."
Mr. A: "Oh.  I don't know, Mom!  I just did it."
Me: "But, why?  Did something happen?  Did somebody make you mad?
Mr. A: "Well, Michael stole my toy."
Me: "And what did you do when he stole it? "
A: "I asked him to give it back to me and he did."
Me: "So, was there something else that happened?"
A: "No." (and starting to walk away - he had finished his cookie and was no longer interested)
Me: "Mr. A, there is a time and a place for going to the bathroom.  The only place is the bathroom." I said some other things about appropriate usage, etc, and that you needed to go in and apologize to your teacher tomorrow.
A: "But, Mom, I already said sorry and I won't do it again."

I then put you down for your "nap."  "But, Mom, I'm not tired."

Me: (I'd heard that before) That's fine, but you need to spend some time in your room for quiet time.  I'll come get you when it's over.

You made a lot of noise and messed around for 2 hours.  You screamed for me, woke up your sister, cried when I wouldn't let you come out, did not sleep, and did everything you could to make me want to leave you there all day.  But, I let you out.  I pulled up the blinds to let the light in and open the window for some much needed fresh air only to find a very large pencil-drawn kaleidoscope on your baby blue walls.  You are 4 1/2 yrs old and this is the first time you have drawn on anything but paper in our house.  I could not understand it.  We got the 409 and paper towels and you sprayed and scrubbed that wall with me. 

You played outside with your sister and spent at least 20 minutes in time out because you wouldn't stay where I put you and kept having time added to your time outs.  We talked to Dad and you told him that your friend had told you to go peepee on the carpet.  Not great, but the most plausible thing I'd heard all day.  Hard to believe that peer pressure has already begun.  We also talked about what to do when your friends tell you to do something.   

By 7 pm I was fresh out of punishments, ideas, tears, and patience.  You needed to go to bed.  You finally did but not before needing to tell me many things, asking for more water, etc, etc. 

That was the worst of it.  Wednesday was better when I told you if you could be obedient, etc, that you could come with me to the Phillies game tomorrow, but then I found a nice zig zag border pencil-drawn on your white nightstand today.  I thought I had gotten all of the pencils out.  Back you went with the 409.

School's been fine.  You even told me that you made 4 new friends today and you knew all of their names.  That made me happy for you.  Secretly, though, I wanted to find out if they were good people and would not tell you to do silly things.  I didn't. 

You've had some more hiccups like today when I told you to wait for Miss M to get her helmet on before you drove off in your car with her hanging off the back.  You didn't.  You went and she flew off and hit her head on the concrete in the garage.  Lots more crying.  You still didn't take a nap, but instead started yelling for me with a 1/2 hr to go: "Moooooooooooommmm!!!!  Mooooooooommmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyy!!!  Mooooommmmmmmy Seamons!!!  (is there another mom in the house??)"  At least I could laugh at that.

Oh, and you asked Miss M if she had prayed to Jesus before she rode down the driveway on her bike (you're clearly learning new things at your Presbyterian pre-school).  I liked that one too. 

Like I said, kiddo.  We'll get there.  I love you and I really do want you to be happy.  I just hope our battle scars aren't too bad when it's all said and done.  It's a good thing you have grandparents. :) 

Love, Mom  (Mom Seamons, that is)