“Ugh, if only it were a Groundhog kind of day,” I thought as I stood in our driveway with the bus parked in front of our house and Carter hiding and sulking under the Jeep. I decided to wave the bus on and take him to school myself if he ever decided to crawl out from under the car.

The morning didn’t start out with any hint that things were going to blow up right as the bus pulled up. Everyone was up and dressed and eating breakfast without much fuss. I actually remembered to check the calendar and saw that Caleb needed to bring his library books back. Lucy packed up the lunches I had prepped the night before. Winning.

But then Carter learned that he would have to wear something other than his beloved barefoot shoes to school because I had washed them the night before and they weren’t fully dry. Normally I would have let him wear them wet, but they had become so funkified that I was having to store them outside every night. So I washed them twice in vinegar and they smell good again. I knew that in order to have a chance of them staying tolerable for more than a day or two that they needed to be bone dry before he started wearing them again.

This common sense was meaningless to Carter. He started sulking and saying that if he couldn’t wear his barefoot shoes then he wasn’t wearing any shoes at all. I gave him his flip flops and he said he hated all of his other shoes and that I couldn’t make him wear them. Totally true. He stomped outside to wait for the bus barefoot.

Josh and I had a quick whispered conference debating the merits of the logical consequences of going to school without shoes, but decided that since it had to be against school policy to be shoeless that we wouldn’t let him get on the bus. If he had been willing to tuck his flips in his bag I would have counted on peer pressure or another adult pointing out that he needed to put them on once he arrived, but he wouldn’t even look at them.

Once we told him that he had to wear some sort of footwear in order to go to school, that’s when he yelled something about hating all his other shoes and crawled under the Jeep. I guess the ridiculousness of the entire situation kept me from getting angry. I am so relaxed about what they wear and give them so much freedom in this area, but this was a hill I decided I was willing to die on. He keeps threatening that he won’t go to school if he doesn’t get his way about things, but he has always turned it around before the bus comes. This time I decided to call his bluff and the bus drove away.

Josh went ahead to the gym without me and I ignored Carter (who had moved to hiding in the side yard). He started following me around saying things like, “I’m not going to school if I can’t wear my barefoot shoes.” I told him that he wasn’t wearing them today for sure and if he didn’t figure out a different pair that he was willing to wear then he might not have them to wear at all. Then I heard lots of talk about “never going to school again,” but I simply replied, “Oh, that’s too bad.” and happily checked my email, facebook, etc while he flopped on the couch. After about 10 minutes of quiet he comes up to me and says, “I was thinking and I remembered that I have music today and last time we did the limbo and I also have World Languages (Arabic) and I really like that too . . . so I’m sorry, will you please take me to school?”

And then it was as if a switch flipped and he happily raced off to find socks and put on some shoes and I drove him to school and we made it in plenty of time. He apologized many times (sorry I messed up your workout, sorry you had to make an extra trip to drive me, sorry I was being a butthead) but I explained that he was more important than any of those other things and that it was more important that he learn that sometimes we have to do things that we don’t want to do or wear things that we don’t want to wear.

I guess we could have spanked him (except we don’t), but what good would that have done? He would have changed his behavior based on fear and/or resentment and when the threat of spanking was removed there would be no incentive to change. This way he made the decision for himself and felt sincere remorse for being a pain in my behind this morning. He learned he doesn’t always get his way and that the world doesn’t end just because he has to wear a different pair of shoes. And he came to those conclusions all on his own, with no punishment from me. The best part for me was finding out that he actually likes school. Win. Win. Win.

***yes, I know my blog is turning into “The Carter Show,” but he’s the squeaky wheel at the moment. And how could I not share a story that involves a 10 year old hiding under a car? He better grow up to do something great so someday I can say it was all worth it. 😉

Another first

I was able to bring cupcakes to school to celebrate Carter’s birthday. They aren’t the amazing cake creations that my friend SuperMom Heather makes, but I was pretty proud of my sour gummy “10s.” (peechy rings and worms cut to size)

It was my ace in the hole that day (Wednesday) because Carter didn’t want to get out of bed and when he finally got up he put on regular clothes and said he wasn’t going to go to school. Until Josh pointed out the cupcakes on the counter. (I made them as a surprise the night before). Before you could say, “buttercream frosting” he shot out of the room and was back in a flash with renewed excitement about the day. Too bad every day isn’t cupcake day.

Things you don’t learn at home school

After only one week, my kids are already picking up things that I neglected to teach them at home. The other day I was getting a pair of scissors out of the drawer and Caleb reached out, took my wrist and tilted it downward saying, “Unh-unh, Mom. Scissors always have to be pointed at the floor.” I asked, “Is that one of the rules you learned at school?” He nodded proudly.

It’s not like I was letting them use scissors as weapons or swords or anything, but aside from the “don’t run with the scissors!” that I probably yelled out once or twice, I don’t think we had any scissor rules except for the one about only cutting your own hair.

I’m now realizing there are a few other things that all good citizens are supposed to know that I might have neglected to tell them. At dinner one night the big news of the day was the fire alarm going off and they all had to evacuate. Calvin said, “Mom, it was crazy. The fire alarm went off and everyone put down their books and walked outside.”

(Me, trying to figure out the strange part): ??Huh??

Calvin, in an incredulous tone says, “I don’t know why they weren’t all running. It could have been a fire!”

After I stopped laughing long enough to catch my breath and wipe my tears, I gasped out, “Baby, that’s what you’re supposed when there is a fire because if everyone panics and starts running then people might get hurt. It does make sense that if there was a fire, you’d want to get out as fast as possible, but they want everyone to be safe so you have to walk.”

Thankfully he walked calmly outside with the rest of the class because “that’s what everyone else was doing.” Score 1 for peer pressure. I guess the common sense home rule of “get out of the house as fast as possible” doesn’t quite translate to a classroom situation.

The moral of the story is if you’re ever in a building with my boys and the fire alarm goes off, you better be faster than they are or they might run you down from behind and shiv you with a pair of scissors as they race out of the building. Don’t blame them. Their mother didn’t teach them anything.

the middles

This week was hurried mornings and rushed evenings, broken up by blurry stretches of mid-day. I don’t remember what I did each day, but here are the highlights of my middles:

went to the gym (once. I’m easing back into it)
had a pedicure and lunch with a friend
met another friend for coffee and book discussion
took baby girl to get her vaccines
ran errands with Josh and Camille
stretched out on the couch while Lucy cleaned the house
went to coffee with Josh and baby
edited Josh’s Turkey trip report

I’m tired, but satisfied and content. Tomorrow I don’t have to wake up at 6:30 or 7, but baby might think differently after a week of early rising. Our days look different now, but I’m enjoying the time I have with the boys at breakfast and in the evening before bed. The evening of their first day of school I went to tuck them in and kiss them goodnight to find they had all crawled into the same bed — some of the best things haven’t changed.

 One thing that has changed is since it’s only the two of us (or the three of us if Josh is around) during the day, I have time to let this little one lead the way and see where she takes us.

 

*** this is one of those videos that will be sleep-inducing if you aren’t related to her. Unless you find toddler walking entertaining . . .

Curses! Homework again.

Carter + homework? Is going to be the end of me. Yesterday was another great day at school for all of them. Even better, Carter came skipping in the door saying, “I don’t have any homework! We did all our math in class today.” Praise God, because I wasn’t up for another handholding/standoff that evening. Besides, it was the first rugby practice of the fall, so the boys got home at 4:15, grabbed a snack, threw on cleats and uniforms and we were out the door by 4:45.

By the time we got home it was 7. The boys showered, ate dinner, and then had a few minutes to relax before  they had to get ready for bed. Even though they didn’t have homework, I had lots of it. They each brought home papers from their teachers to be filled out by me: What are your hopes for your student for this year? How does your child learn best? What is your child’s greatest academic weakness? Is there anything I need to know about your child to help him or her succeed?

All of it is essential information for teachers to have, but you should have seen me staring cross-eyed at the pages: “Which kid is this form for? Is this the one that cries and throws a tantrum when he is overtired or am I writing about the one who thinks he can’t do anything right if he doesn’t get it perfect the first time? And how much of this do I reveal up front and what should I leave to be discovered as a “happy” accident?”

As I’m putting papers back in their folders, I pull out Carter’s homework book and find that not only does he have homework for tonight, but he has an assignment that he completely overlooked the night before. Good grief. In the chaos of the drama over his math assignment, I didn’t even notice that he was supposed to create a “mind map” (basically a brainstorming diagram) about himself.

I burst his happy, computer game playing bubble as I pointed out that he actually had two assignments that needed to be completed that he had written in his homework book himself, plus one from the night before and by now it was 8:00 and almost time for bed. He was supposed to check out 3 math resource websites online (easy) and then “tell someone about VCOP.” We quickly looked at the math websites. “Great, all done with that. Now tell me about VCOP.”

Carter: “I don’t know what it means. She told us in class, but I forgot.”
Me (prompting): What subject were you studying when she talked about it? Does it have to do with the classroom rules? How can you not remember if you wrote down that you were supposed to talk to me about it?”
Carter (sighing): I don’t know, she wrote it down on the board and talked about it some, but I only remember the V stands for ‘vocabulary.'”
Me: (head meets wall)

Giving up on VCOP, I whipped out a sheet of paper and said, “Here, you need to do the mind mapping assignment that you forgot to do last night. Write down six things about yourself. You should be able to do this quickly.” Carter was of the opinion that it could not be done quickly and it was the most horrible, awful assignment ever given, and why did he have to do it if he couldn’t think of anything to write. He sighed and scrawled and erased and scribbled for a few minutes, declared that he couldn’t think of anything else to write about himself, and stomped his way upstairs when I gave him the choice of “finish or head to bed.” This is what I was left with:

Based on past experience I though he purposely wrote, “I want to be a moron,” but it turns out that he was trying to write I want to be a Marine. You know how they say “Good readers make good spellers?” Yeah, we’re still working on the first part. I decided preserving my pride was more important than the “logical consequence” in this situation so I wrote his teacher a note that we (he?) forgot to do the assignment and plan to have him complete it and turn it in in the next few days — after I sneak in a few extra spelling and handwriting lessons. Still trying to figure out why people think this is easier than homeschooling . . .

***to be fair to Carter, I need to update that tonight he finished all of his homework with less complaining than the previous nights. I’m not ready to make another attempt at the mind map yet . . . baby steps.