Thursday, August 16, 2007

difficult start to 1st grade

I'm not quite sure if it started as more my problem that the muss', but 1st grade is getting off to a rough start.

The day the class lists were posted on the school doors I zoomed by on my way home from work to check them out. I figured I could take the muss up later and she would be none the wiser that the momma already knew. Well, it was grim. All but one of her best buddies from last year were in the other class. Even worse, all the moms I had become friends with were in the other class. I was beside myself. I think I may even have had a panic attack right there at the door to the school. It is all a blur, I don't quite remember.

I went home and put on a happy face and decided I wasn't even going to bring up the class list issue. If she was not dying to know, I was not going to tell her, or take her, or even mention that school was starting soon.

She didn't ask about it until Friday of that week. Then I broke the news to her. She took it better than I had taken it. She was fine. Seems she has the same put-on-a-happy-face skill that I have mastered.

Fast forward to tonight, the 3rd day of school. The Muss has been C...R...A...B...B...Y all week. Very crabby. She, however, maintains that nothing is wrong, which I know is not true. So, after tucking her in and going back downstairs, I hear her sobbing. The dam finally broke and maybe I can drag from her the problem. It was what I thought. She hates 1st grade (never been a fan of change, that one), she hates the classroom, they don't get to do anything fun, all her friends are in the other class, no one likes her in her new class, the list goes on and on. At least she is talking to me finally.

So, we spend the next hour, past bedtime, going through every issue and talking it over. I think I may even have made myself feel better in the process. Woohoo, momma, heal thyself.

We will have to see how the next few days and weeks go, but I think we will make it. If she can make new friends, so can I.

Thursday, August 2, 2007

the hits just keep on comin'

It has been a trying summer.

I thought the biggest issue would be the Muss without enough constructive activity. She really took to the whole school thing. No, it is not her, it is Boo. He is most certainly a 4-year-old boy testing every limitation and boundary that could possibly be placed around him. He has become obstinate, sassy and, well, just a plain little shit. Damn good thing he is cute otherwise he may not still be living.

Today he completely reverted to 2 years of age.

J. made the questionable decision to schedule Trooper a vet appointment while I was at work. Normally, we never do these type of things because taking all 3 kids to a vet's office for an hour turns into an eternity and also increases the urge to strangle children. But, no, J. has been super-stay-at-home-dad all summer and he can handle it.

Pardon me while I pick myself up off the floor where I have fallen from hysterical laughter. I have taken all 3 to the office of our family physician on occassion (when left no other choice) and it is not pretty. Not pretty AT ALL.

So, back to the vet. The kids are running around like little possessed demons with sparks flying off of their heads. They are then confined to an 8X8 room to wait for the vet. After what seemed like, yes, an eternity , but was really about 20 minutes, the vet comes in. Our Dear Trooper has been having some issues lately and J. wants to address them with the vet. Troop is pushing 8 and is a large breed of dog so this means he is a little long in the tooth thus he is having the sort of issues one would think an older dog would have. So while J. is talking to the vet, Boo and Kiki are under the table in the room coloring on the base of it. Yes, the assistants at the office gave my children crayons and didn't cover every surface in the building with paper. What were they thinking anyway? J. nips that in the bud, picks up a writhing, squealing Kiki and continues his discussion. They chat, everything is fine, then J. is mid-sentence and the vet calls out, "no, hey, don't do that" and J. turns to see Boo frantically scribbling all over the WALL.


That is right, the wall. Of course he apologized up and down and offered to clean it up, but they said they would take care of it. Maybe they know about the Magic Eraser.

So later, Boo is so busy frantically playing outside he forgets that he may need to stop and address his normal bodily functions once in awhile. Since he has forgotten this, he ends up peeing his pants. Seriously? The boy is 4 1/2?

This is all in addition to the usual crazed, frantic (are you seeing a pattern?) behavior that drives us to drink. Some of our favorites are the Wrapping Up In A Blanket And Rolling On The Floor While Frantically Laughing, the Running Circles Through The Living/Dining/Kitchen Areas While Frantically Laughing and the Poking My Sisters With Anything In The House I Can Find While Frantically Laughing. All good ones for sure.

Now I'm thinking he seems frantic a lot. Is this 4 or is this a bigger issue? We don't give him any caffeine. He rarely has chocolate and we keep all artificially-sugared items to a minimum. What is causing this? Is this 4 or is this a bigger issue? Am I breaking him in some way?

Sound like something to ask our family physician about next time I take all 3 of them in.