Sometimes Moms shout...

An Open Letter to the woman who shouted at me in the Michael's parking lot for shouting to admonish my 5 year old.

Hi there,

Thanks for shouting at me across the parking lot while I struggled to get my two boys out of the car and into the store this morning. It was especially helpful for you to berate and admonish me for shouting at my five year old after he quite literally slammed his door open into the fancy SUV we were parked beside. Especially since, just moments before, I said to him "Buddy, these parking spaces are small, make sure you open your door carefully, okay?"

Where did we go wrong?

We had our first phone call from the school today. When I saw the school's name come up on the call display, I'll admit my first thought was "Oh, I wonder if my big'un is sick..."

yeah... not so much.

Nope, the call wasn't to let me know he wasn't feeling well, it was to let me know that my child is a problem. A serious problem. A physically-hurting-other-kids kind of problem.

I managed to get through the phone call with the teacher without breaking down - points for me. But after hanging up I will admit that I am at a complete and utter loss. I have no idea what to do. I have no idea how to move forward. I want to support the teacher, I want to work towards my big'un behaving appropriately in class and in the schoolyard - and while I was not even remotely shocked when she told me last week that he was having "listening problems" (Hi. Yeah. Welcome to my every day.) when she called to tell me about his behaviour today (even going so far as to having to make him sit completely alone at lunchtime) I was actually shocked.

Don't laugh.

Remember when they said, "Let kids be kids"? I do...

Ugh... so... dealing with some frustrations here blog-o-sphere... and I thought I'd share them with you.

First off: the big'un started school last Tuesday. He's 4, so that means that here in Ontario he goes to the "2 year Kindergarden Program"... that's school all day, every day. At 4 years old.

Now - I'm not actually complaining about him going to school everyday, because the big'un is one of those kids who really really really wanted to go to school. He loves it. Everyday he comes home and tells me he had a good day and he wants to go back tomorrow. Fantastic! He even decided after the first short week of school that he no longer wanted to come home for lunch (even though we live, literally, around the bend from the school) but that he wanted to stay all day and eat lunch at school with his class. No problem, done. He's stayed for lunch every day since then.

But then last night was "Meet the Teacher" night. We've met the teacher a couple of times already, spoke to her briefly on a few occasions of pick ups and drop offs, but yesterday afternoon she met the Hubs when he picked up the big'un and told him that they were having some "listening problems" and, even worse, that when she told him to listen to her and look at her when she was speaking that he "made a gun with his fingers and pretended to shoot at her.".

Fabulous.

Day 2 - Raging Meltdowns...

Whew - Day 2 of Mommy only m-f is almost over. Thank goodness. Today was the day of the raging meltdown. Our big'un is almost 3 1/2 and boy oh boy is he ever testing his limits these days. Sometimes we can have a good laugh, when we get things like "Mommy - I have to talk you some questions." "Uh... okay buddy, what?" "Um, I don't want to (eat dinner, be nice to my brother, wear pants, etc)" "Babe - that's not really a question..." but when it comes to things like a raging, screaming, limb flailing, dish throwing super-sonic meltdown because HE wanted the RED cup (which has been his brother's cup ALL. DAY." NOT the GREEN cup (which he just asked for)... then it becomes a little tough.

Now, generally, we just try and reason with him, tell him WHY he can't have the red cup, and him know that his real option is the green cup or nothing... but tonight that resulted in him body-checking the dog (good thing the dog is good natured) and then practically throwing himself down the stairs while screaming "NO green cup, NO nothing, NO bed, NO dinner, NO (little'un) having the RED cup, NO!" Yeah... that's when I decided to sit down on the kitchen floor. It wasn't very effective. He's not really moved by silent protest.

So I just picked up Captain Meltdown, carried him up to his bed, and left him there to scream himself hoarse.

The I want Daddy...s

It starts... hubby's gone, left this morning at around 5:45 am. We've been trying to explain to the boys for a few days now just how long Daddy's going to be gone (5 days, 1 work week, Monday until Friday, etc etc etc) and this morning I was thinking that our big'un (3 years old) was finally getting it. Nope... not so much. The I want Daddy's have already started.

This morning on the bus:
Big'un: Mommy, the kids wouldn't give me a high five and now I'm sad...
Me: Oh, I'm sorry Buddy! What would make you feel better, a hug?
*(nope)
Me: A glass of milk?
*(nope)
Me: A muffin?
*(nope)
Me: Well, what then? Anything you want.