“Mom, how do you spell ‘tripping’?”
“Nothing.” A couple minutes later: “Mom, how do you spell ‘attitude’?”
“Nothing.” A couple minutes later: “Mom, how do you spell ‘bubbles’?”
What the hell? “B-U-B-B-L-E-S. What are you DOING?”
This. This is what he was doing.
Needless to say, it’s been a rough day for my 7 year-old. He had to “turn his card.” (GASP!!!) For those not familiar, this is the ever-so-popular discipline method in elementary school these days, in which each student has a colored card. In Keegan’s school, if your card stays on blue, you had an excellent day. Yellow = just an okay day. RED = NOT GOOD. The kid has 4 weeks of school left and, for the first time this school year, had to turn it to red.
We’ve seen a shift in his behavior recently. We don’t know what’s going on, but, along with being ultra-sensitive about EVERYTHING, he has been giving us a major attitude problems. I always hold out hope that, regardless of what we’re seeing at home, please LORD, let my child hold himself together at school.
Yeah. He didn’t.
Thus…the above apology letter. It was all his idea, which I love. I’m not thrilled that he was able to fill a whole page with today’s violations, and let’s be real, folks, he could have filled the back up too. And maybe a second page. Front and back.
I knew I was going to write a blog tonight, but I had planned on writing about my visit to Easton’s school today for Parents’ Day (I WILL write on that eventually), or how excited I was about 1) finding Key Lime Pie ice cream at the grocery store, and 2) getting carded for my beer. Or how funny it was when Easton starting singing along LOUDLY to Maroon 5’s “Moves Like Jagger” in the car. I even thought about writing about how I’m fairly certain my neighbors are going to call CPS because of the noise level of Easton’s ear-piercing screams coming from our house (Fingernail clippers. Don’t bring them anywhere NEAR him if you can help it.)
Soooooo….yeah. No one told me parenting gets so difficult as they get older. And he’s only SEVEN. I cringe when I think about the teen years. Or the pre-teen years. Or the pre-pre-teen years. I think right now, he’s considered pre-pre-pre-teen. And I’m already thanking my lucky stars his behavior problems aren’t going to be coupled with periods and training bras. He’s starting to argue about his bed time for the first time EVER. (“NO FAIR that you and dad get to stay up late!”) He has some pretty startlingly clever comebacks. (Me: Go floss. Him: YOU go floss.) He argues about pretty much everything I ask him to do. (Me: Put your shoes on. Him: My knees hurt.) You get the idea.
Since the above apology letter was written, our evening has gone much smoother. He has all his “favorite things” taken away until further notice. (By “favorite things,” I’m talking about the DS, Wii, Xbox, iPad, and computer. In case you don’t know my son, this punishment is life-altering.) The only Mario and Luigi this child is getting is on his pillowcase and sheets at night. (And he’s lucky he’s getting that. I have heard him tell his pillowcase “I love you” on several occasions.) Now that I think about it, if tomorrow’s school day is bad, that pillowcase is GONE!
I said to my husband once, when referring to our son’s stubborn, strong-willed personality, “I think we have a little shit on our hands.” (It sounded better in my head….but…I was right.)
Okay. My venting session has come to an end. It was one of those days. Glass Half Full Approach: My boys STILL make me laugh every day. AND DID I TELL YOU GOT CARDED FOR BEER?!?