This morning the plan was to come online and complain that my brain wouldn't leave well enough alone. Something happened and instead of getting past it, it won't let me forget. This morning, it was just frustrating but, in light of what just happened, I have to wonder what is going on?
Yesterday, Second Son forgot his lunch bag at home. I didn't notice that he wasn't carrying it when we walked to school, and I didn't notice it in the front hall either. But it was the beginning of my frustrations.
Normally, when a child forgets his lunch bag, I would expect the school to telephone the parents. But that is not when Second Son's school did. Instead, they gave him a hot lunch from the catering service. Then, the catering service called me and left me the bill number, saying that I had to send five dollars in the next day to pay for Second Son's lunch. Now, if I were to keep things in perspective, I would say that at least Second Son had gotten a warm lunch in his tummy and all's well that ends well. But, I am not in a frame of mind to keep things in perspective.
When I went to get the boys at school, I made a complaint about the way things had been handled. I told them that if this happens again, I expect the school to call me. While I recognize that sometimes calling the parents in the middle of the day doesn't help because they may be waaaaaay across town at work and won't make it to the school before the end of lunch period, I maintain that you never know until you try. The school didn't try.
I should also add here that I could easily have brought Second Son his lunch bag and, most frustratingly, that I intentionally did not sign the boys up for hot lunches this month because it just would way exceed my budget. Now, I find myself having to pay for a hot lunch anyway, AND at a higher price than if I had prepaid. Really frustrating.
The frustration doesn't end there though. Last night, I had this terrible dream that I was at home in the afternoon, and was just about to take a nap because I was really tired from cleaning, and Second Son walked in the door. In the dream, it was 3 pm and school wasn't finished yet. I was desperately frustrated that I couldn't take a nap, to the point where I was almost crying. I picked up my phone to call the school and berate them about letting a six-year-old leave the premises unsupervised, and to ask how they were keeping an eye on him if they didn't even realize that he was gone. But, it was one of those dreams where no matter how hard you try, you can't dial the correct number and you have to start over again and again. In my case, I was unable to find the school in my contact list and I had to keep looking and looking. I woke up very frustrated and upset.
This is what I had planned to post about, ending with a frustrated rant about how yesterday was yesterday and there is no point dwelling on it. But my brain IS dwelling on it. Why won't it let well enough alone. Obviously, it has something it needs to work out. I can't imagine what it is. I just want to forget about this. It is bloody frustrating and there is nothing I can do about it any more, so why not just let it go?
Why not? Well, because of what happened this afternoon.
When I arrived this afternoon, one of the after-school care ladies wanted a word. I thought that she wanted to talk about the complaint I had made yesterday, but it was something entirely different.
Apparently, Second Son had been playing LEGOs this afternoon; he had been building a gun out of LEGO. This might be overlooked, but when he was finished, he started "shooting" at the other kids, who complained to the teacher. When she asked him to stop, he just "shot" at her. When she TOLD him to stop, he dumped all the LEGOs across the floor and stomped away. She made him pick up the LEGOs. He started to, then she went back to what she was doing, but a moment later the other kids informed her that Second Son had run off. She looked for him everywhere, in the halls, the washrooms, anywhere he could have gone. Finally, she wondered if he hadn't run home. She put a call out to all the teachers and everyone started looking, and finally she was about to call the police, when someone found him, locked in a shower stall with his feet pulled up. (The shower has a little ledge so the water won't run out, so they couldn't see his feet when they looked under.)
When they got him out of the shower stall, the teacher told him to sit down and he wasn't allowed to move. He kicked her! I can't believe it. I just can't believe it. Needless to say, he is gonna be punished. (Right after he gets off Skype - he is very busy now telling his father how he hates school. Then I will get an email from Daddy asking why I didn't tell him about it, when it just happened and the kids aren't even in bed yet. But yes, I prefer to blog about it first because I am trying to channel my frustrations into something other than going upstairs and yelling at my son. I very much want to deal with him in a calm manner.)
I guess what I was getting at when I started typing is this: was my brain trying to warn me that something would happen today? Is that what the dream was about? Would Second Son have run all the way home if he could have gotten out of the school? Honestly, after the dream, I was seriously considering taking him out of after-school care, although that would mean I have to be home for him to come eat lunch at 11:30, and I couldn't accept doctor's appointments in the afternoon any more, for fear that if the wait was too long I wouldn't be home by the time Second Son finished school. And I do have quite a lot of doctor's appointments to try to figure out what exactly is causing my health problems. Among other things, I am waiting to have a bone marrow biopsy. In the meantime, I have to have doctor's appointments, iron shots and blood tests. (Meetings with the social worker, etc., etc.)
Having Second Son come straight home from school might cause some scheduling conflicts with my daytime activities, but I was so frustrated with his school yesterday (and this morning, after the dream), that I was seriously considering it. Not to mention that it would save me a lot of money. Quebec prides itself on its $7 a day daycare, but when you have three kids it becomes $21 a day and I am always living in fear of my check bouncing when I have to pay at the beginning of the month.
I recognize that pulling Second Son out of school is not the answer. He - as most other boys his age - is obsessed with violence. Their favorite games are war, their favorite toys are weapons. I draw the line at guns, but they do have quite a few swords and light sabers at home to play with. I am always talking with them about how bad and sad war is, about how violence will not solve the problems of the world. But there is something about boys that I don't understand. The testosterone and the thirst for violence. I worry that when they get older and reach the age where it is no longer cool to be seen in public with Mommy, I will lose any chance of redeeming them as peaceable beings. I want boys that I can be proud of. I fervently hope that as they grow, they will mature into wisdom and peace. In the meantime, I will do my best, but setbacks like today's are really disheartening.
Where was I going with this?
- I have been disappointed with our neighborhood school,
- I have been disappointed with Second Son's behavior,
- I have been frustrated by my brain and its mysterious ways. (Seriously, we are one body, can it not be a little clearer when trying to send me a message?!)
OVER AND OUT
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