Pick on someone your own size!

It recently occurred to this once high-school misfit that teachers aren’t the big scary people that they once were. What an awesome revelation, and another step towards me becoming a grown-up.

I often get the impression that my boy is quite a challenge for teachers. You may have picked this up in previous posts. However he is a good soul and shows immense clarity of thought that often makes me think of him as being older than he actually is. He also doesn’t take much notice of boundaries. At least, he doesn’t take much notice of boundaries if they don’t make sense.

Our case in point happened when I was taken aside by an after school teacher and told in no uncertain terms that my child was not listening and doing as he was told.

Lady, this is nothing new… I thought to myself, and nodded politely while she said he was blatantly ignoring her.

‘OK, I’ll talk to him,’ I said and proceeded to go and tell him to get his coat and so on before going home. On the way I scolded him,

‘Now what on earth is up with you?’ I started in on him, ‘I really don’t want to hear about you being disrespectful….’

‘Hang on Mum,’ he interrupted. I hate being interrupted. Inside my head a war started…

Drop kick him! … No listen, it sounds like he has something important to say … NO! Just drop kick his interrupting rude self… Oh will you just listen, woman …

‘Mum I would like you to file a complaint please..’ Excuse me? That got my attention.

Well I won’t go into the details but he proceeded to tell me about how this woman (yes the one who was having issues with him) was insulting him and shouting at him and he could see no good reason to listen to her because her behavior was appalling. Now I am paraphrasing a bit obviously but this was the message and his tone was rather indignant. I was not impressed at all.

After speaking to the Hubby, and him offering to go sort it out (he does like a good butt kicking opportunity), I decided that I should be the one to deal with this.

So to round up the story, I went and told the teacher that unless her behavior dramatically improved, I could not be expected to tell my child to respect her as it would send the message that some people are exempt from basic good manners. I said that I expected her to set a good example. I was expecting an argument. What I got was ‘Of course, yes, certainly. I understand.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ Lil Fella said, ‘Really, thanks for having my back.’

Any time little buddy.. any time.

Smells like pre-teen spirit

Love, sorrow and getting your groove on… in retrospect it was the best way to handle a slew of bad days. If only it was me teaching the boy that and not him teaching me, then it would be perfect parenting.

Love…

It all began when he decided one morning to rush out of the house forgetting his bag and various other items that were needed for the day. This was the fault of a girl. Apparently cute and sweet and ‘just the most beautiful girl in the world’. The boy was utterly besotted.

‘Mum, I’ve gotta go… she’s just walked past..’ I caught the words while stabbing myself in the eye with the eyeliner and yelled ‘BYE! Have a great…oh you’re gone.’

On my way to the school to drop off his forgotten bag and other essentials I figured I’d have to get used to this one. The boy is nothing if not enthusiastic and just like his father, things are generally not done in half measures.

The next day was much the same except come the evening, we had a new conversation.

‘So how was your day?’ I ask

‘Rubbish,’ came the reply, ‘She dumped me.’

OH. Not good.

‘Never mind, I’m sure there will be someone else soon enough.’ I say sounding horridly motherish.

‘I don’t CARE.’ he says ‘it’s not about her dumping me, she dumped me for a total NERD!’

OH. Not good. Nothing to say to that.

Sorrow…

A couple of days later and all was forgotten as plans were made to go to the friends house for a sleepover which involved going to a skate park before hand. All was well as he went off and I decided to take the nice quiet time to catch up on stuff. However as I walked past his room my nostrils were assaulted by the unmistakable aroma of boys room, mixed with hamster.

I took the hamster out of his room, tidied up and then went to clean it out when I noticed the nibbles I put there the day before hadn’t been eaten. During the night, the boy’s pet had quietly passed away. Not my best moment.

OH. Really not good at all.

Well I broke the news to him on his return and about 15 mins after the initial reaction of ‘Oh well, that’s life’ a sobbing boy came and asked for a hug. He was pretty miserable for the rest of that day which was understandable.

Getting your groove on…

This morning he woke up and announced that oh-by-the-way he has an audition at school today and he’s going to dance. Right then. Go team!

This evening he announced that he nailed it. I asked him what he’d done exactly so he said he’d rather show me.

Suited up with a hat, white socks and the black shoes, my boy busted some serious moves Michael Jackson style complete with a very convincing moonwalk. He informs me that when he did the routine at school, he got loud applause and was surprised when a whole bunch of girls wanted to talk to him afterwards.

‘They’re stupid Mum, all they do is giggle. It’s, like, SO annoying’

Yeah, totally.

So much for the bruised ego and the broken heart… because as all boys know, nothing sorts out girl trouble faster than hanging out with mates, skating, and showing off your stuff to the adoring groupies.

Classified mission: authorised personnel only

It’s just occurred to me that listening to the Propellerheads version of a James Bond theme tune is a rocking way to go to work in London.

Marching with purpose to my theme tune this morning ensured that I remembered that I was on a very important mission. The fate of the world rests on my shoulders. (I need such a massage). Ready to break out my ninja-like moves at the first sign of trouble I contined to march with purpose. Speed, stealth and uncanny observation skills are at my disposal as I enter the most dangerous place on earth… The tube in rush hour.

I would need all my skills and training to get through this. Knowing that I am on ‘her Majesty’s secret service’ and my top secret mission cannot fail I go into stealth mode.

An evil mastermind must know I am here. The ’screaming baby’ has been deployed! Nothing can make me break cover until I am ready. My exit strategy is already in place and my escape route planned.

Here we go. Precision timing is key. And go!

I dive through the enemy lines in spectcular style. Nothing can stop me as I race to make my connection and launch on to the next tube with millimetres to spare.

The end is in sight. I am seconds away from the rendevoux. The tube reaches it’s destination and I swiftly move up the staircase blasting all obstruction in my way. I duck into the building before the enemy spots me.

“Triple shot latte please”

“Would you like a pastry with that?”

“No, thanks.”

Mission complete. The world is safe once more.