Proud Mama

“You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have: The Facts of Life. The Facts of Life.” That song is stuck in my head right now (unfortunately taking up valuable brain space) because I often have “funny” stories about Carter related to school — not wanting to read or take tests, his homework frustrations, his non-love of academics, but today I have a fabulous Carter school story.

Two days ago Carter came home and said that his class was hosting an assembly and his teacher had picked him and another boy from his class for speaking parts. I was sure I misunderstood him because a child who just two months ago refused to read out loud if his brothers were in the room wouldn’t possibly be willing to read out loud in front of the entire 4th grade. “Not the 4th grade mom. The whole elementary school!” Say what now?

Sure enough. Today I got to go watch the child I feared would never read, read into a microphone to about 500 people.

The purpose of the assembly was to remind everyone to take care of the toys and playground equipment during recess. Since the 4th grade was hosting the assembly they brainstormed and came up with the points that they thought should be brought up during the assembly: take turns, use the slide properly, always bring a water bottle and hat, wait for the recess monitor before getting toys out of the bins, be careful on the swings, etc.

Then a staff member filmed them while they demonstrated these points on the playground, interviewed each other, etc. The format of the assembly was a news broadcast and Carter and his friend were to be the news anchormen who would introduce the video.

A full house: the bleachers were completely filled with kids from preschool through 5th grade


right before going onstage


the main event


Carter on the big screen (he said being in the video was the most embarrassing part).

He did a great job and I’m so proud of him. I was also really happy that he invited me to watch him perform. It felt like I was watching a miracle in action . . .

MAP

This week at school Carter has been doing MAP (Measures of Academic Progress) testing. It’s a computerized assessment that is done in schools in the US to see how students measure up in the areas of reading, writing and math. The thing that is special about the test is it is tailored to the individual student’s performance. If a student is answering the questions correctly, they move into harder areas of the test, but incorrect answers guide the student toward easier questions. Sort of a Choose Your Own Adventure for the testing world.

When Carter came home and said, “I got 186 percent on my MAP test,” I knew that was a bad sign. When Josh pointed out that 186 percent isn’t possible he said, “Oh yeah, I got 186 points . . . I think. Other people got like 200, but I don’t care.” Not caring about school stuff? Shocking.

Carter: “It was OK. Mostly boring though. I just read the top part and guessed at the answers. I had to go fast because they said if you didn’t finish you could come back and finish in the afternoon and I didn’t want to go back.”

Me: “Were you even trying?”

Carter: “Eh, it didn’t matter if I got them wrong because my teacher told me if you get them wrong, then the questions get easier. We did the writing test today and we have the reading test on Saturday.”

Me: “How do you do a writing test on the computer?”

Carter: “I don’t know.”  

Me: sigh

I went and looked up information on the MAP test — it looks like there is no writing test, just reading, science and math. I can’t wait to see these test results . . .

“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.