So, the last post concentrated on things in our little world that kept going kaput, and making my life a little more hectic and messier in an out of the ordinary way. In some ways, my perspective has just plain changed, and in others there was a solution!
He fixed my hair dryer! That’s right, I’ve got a man who can fix stuff. Not everything, mind you, and there are plenty of things that have broken that we’ve just had to go buy another, but not this. He fixed it. He, trained by his dad to fix some things electrical and some other stuff that confounds me, repaired the cord on my hairdryer and saved us $30.
I stress about what I am teaching my children. It’s probably easy to watch me and find that in many instances I don’t seem to walk the way I want them to walk. I don’t put my clothes directly into the hamper when I take them off. I have my reasons for putting them on the bench at the end of the bed or in a heap next to the bed. I don’t need to have a stream of “If/Then” instances of my reasons for my behaviors, do I? I want YOU to put YOUR clothes in the hamper after YOU take them off…for YOU will not wear them again before they are cleaned because YOU eat like a slobbering mongrel and YOUR clothes are NEVER still clean when YOU take them off. And, I don’t pee my bed, so I can wear MY pajamas or MY t-shirt or MY jeans again this week, without fearing that I smell like I live in an institution.
There are times that I feel they are learning nothing. Nothing I say penetrates their tiny, growing brains. There are times that I wonder how life progressed to the point where my children are no longer delightful at every moment and are now a constant struggle. Ava is challenging, not the “oh, that girl is a challenge, tee hee” liar Mommy lament. She challenges everything. She’s headstrong, she’s feisty, she’s stubborn, she’s got Irish coming at her gene pool from three different directions, like the Bermuda triangle of genetic predisposition to scrappiness, mixed with a great big dose of tiny girl overcompensating personality…and that landed us where we are today…sent home from school. Scratch that…sent home from PRESCHOOL. To reduce it to 3 words for: aggression, assault, and insubordination.
This is not how her teacher described it. She’s a girl, of course, and did not reduce it to 3 vocabulary words, but gushed about how sweet and remorseful Ava was when she got in trouble and when she scratched her friend while grabbing a toy. She’s working with us to get Ava to understand that her actions affect others and that by acting out and disobeying her teachers and causing a scene, she’s stealing attention from the other kids who are being good. She loves Ava and teared up, when I did after Ava apologized to the girl in her class that she scratched and the little girl said “I forgive you” right before Ava and I walked out the door, missing out on snack time, and Show & Tell, and PE (she hates PE), and destined for a room empty of all toys and books and a long boring afternoon in solitary confinement.
I hate for my sweet baby girl to be lonely in her room all day. I hate to give her a cheese sandwich for lunch in her room like a convict and hope that she’ll manage to stay out of trouble in there only to find that she’s found a lone crayon somewhere in the room and now gets to get a spanking for doing something she knows better than to do. I hate to take out that spoon. I hate to keep her home from her Thanksgiving party on Tuesday because the consequence that our family had decided upon if she were to come home from school for bad behavior was not going back the next time. I mean, we weren’t supposed to be going anyway, but plans changed and suddenly we were going to be in town and available to go…but now, we’ll miss it because she didn’t share, she yelled at her teacher, and she scratched a girl while grabbing a toy from her. There are consequences for your actions sweet girl, and while at school it’s taking the teachers’ attention from the other kids…at home, it’s grounding Mommy and Christopher (who really wants to play with you).