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With my 470th post, I bid farewell. I’m not going to keep up this website anymore. I’m not as comfortable as I once was with having personal information, thickly coated in sarcasm and over dramatic though it may be, so readily available. I’m not motivated to take the content I experience everyday and put it into words for just about anyone to come across. I’m still hammering on the keys pretty consistently but keeping mum on my less than intriguing every day existence. Love to anyone who took a moment to read a sentence here or read lots of posts consistently. Many, many thanks, y’all. I’ll still be annoying as ever on Twitter, @prettylush.
An exasperated call came in last week from Kiddo’s teacher to Josh. He said she could hardly take a breath as she quickly expelled every instance of misbehavior that any child had ever pulled on her wait I mean only ours. Ms. ThirdGrade spent a solid twenty or so minutes on the adventures of having Kiddo in her classroom and then Josh repeated this by calling me to recap. I was on my way to a midterm. We aren’t surprised so much by the problems our kid faces with authority (it’s been since kindergarten) but we are struck by how bold she has become. Outright refusal – arms crossed, leaning back in her chair – ain’t gonna kind of attitude. Drawing on her desk mere seconds after being scolded about that very thing. Waiting until someone’s back is turned to run off from the bench she’s supposed to be parked on during recess. The list goes on but too deep and I lose my shit so we’ll stop there.
I arrived to my midterm flushed, blood shot and shaking. I can get as mad as I want to but when someone else is mad at my kid, well. It hurts, man.
This is going to take some research and maybe a therapist or something to get to the bottom of because Kiddo is painfully, sickeningly sweet and mild tempered at home. She listens and does what she’s told. The problem lies in us having to repeat ourselves over and over and over and over because her attention span is approximately three and three quarter seconds. (TEXTBOOK ADD, my kid.) But refusing to do something? Deliberate, stone cold defiance? I haven’t met that kid.
Daily progress reports are coming home now. When it was missing last Friday she insisted that the reports aren’t sent home on Fridays. For some absolutely ridiculous reason, we believed her. Come Monday afternoon, the Friday report is in her folder with a note or two about “refusing to listen to directions” and “did not turn in homework.” But Friday leads to Saturday and Sunday and do you even know how much bike riding there is to be done on those days? She’s crafty and I know she didn’t bring that paper home for a reason.
School kid and home kid are two different sets of practices and behaviors.
I asked Josh when he thinks one is going to catch up to the other. I think that’s when we’ll be in for it.
In four months, she’ll be nine. In seven years, I’ll be locked away in a padded room. Will you come visit? Bring mojitos?
-CJ
