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| Just another day at the zany house. |
First few weeks of school. Izzy has been trying to adjust to
an uber-organized, high standards teacher. She had a horrible day yesterday,
forgot her homework, yelled at the teacher, kids were trying to help her get
back on track, but she felt like they were “bossing” her around.
We made sure everything was ready to go this morning, and I
reminded her 17 times not to doodle and to pay attention so she would know what
to do and to write her assignments in her planner and that she had to bring her
planner, her folder, and her keyboarding paper home each night. Poor child. I
didn’t really tell her 17 times. It was more like 17 attempts at delivering
this information while she was actually listening.
So tonight when we said the blessing on the food, she said,
“Thank you that I finally had one good day in the last two weeks.” I tried not
to explode with joy and said, “What happened today? Why was it good?”
She said, “Even though I really wanted to, I kept myself
from doodling, and then I heard everything that I was supposed to do, and I
wasn’t confused.”
Wow. I wanted to do cartwheels all the way to Australia.
Instead I said something textbooky like, “That was some really good self
control. I’m glad you had such a good day. Way to go.” Textbooky may sound
stilted, but it’s usually better than what would automatically roll off my
tongue, so I go with it. I try to be really positive with Izzy.
Any how, triumphant day, and I’m going to roll in it! …Oh
ya, for two seconds, because on this very same day I ran into Wyatt’s teacher
and she told me that he couldn’t sit still for his reading testing today and
that he scored rather low. When I said I knew he couldn’t sit still and
mentioned ADHD in the family, she subtly asked if anyone was on medication.
That was probably illegal. And then she casually mentioned that some kids just
do so well with it…and some kids don’t. I’ve heard that before. Yes, I’ve heard
those words before, Oh Wyatt, Wyatt, Wyatt. Et tu, Wyatt?
Do these teachers know that we are screaming inside when
they drop these little hints? Do they know we want to just fall on the floor
crying? Do they know our heads are splitting and our hearts are breaking? Do
they know I want to say, “Okay, no big deal. I think I’ll put my kid on an amphetamine,
also known as a psychostimulant, that may stunt his growth and cause sleep
problems and can be addictive. What the heck.” You know, I don’t even mean to
rip on this teacher. I’m sure that she struggles and frets with these
“spirited” children and sees improvements when some of them start meds. I’m
sure that she sees some of the challenges alleviated. I’m sure that she sees
children who probably need meds and parents who don’t give them meds. I know
she has her struggles too.
But for me, she has taken my dreams and thrown them in the
river and waved good bye, “Hey, I hope it wasn’t too rough parting with your
idyllic thoughts of raising this beautiful boy. Buh bye. Ya, new life paradigm.
Get up to speed, Mom.”
