Tuesday, November 17, 2009

What the Teacher Must Think of Me...

We had a little drama around here today. Actually, there wasn't any unusual drama here in the house, but at The Big One's school.

Today was after school Karate day. That is what we call it, anyway. Most of you know if by Tuesday. Each Tuesday for right now, The Big One goes to a very neat little after school program where they teach a martial arts program. She was very excited when I first ask her if she wanted to go. I was very excited when I saw how cheap it was. My thought was that she may not want to continue, and I didn't want to shell out big bucks for a real class at a studio that she would end up hating. So, this little after school program was a great compromise for us. I'm totally off the drama train, though.
So, getting back to the good stuff, today was Karate Day. After school, The Big One is supposed to walk over to the Kindergarten play ground where class is held. I will then pick her up after Karate is over.
This is week three for us. The first week I took her. The second week I sent a note with her to let the teacher know she would be going there. This week, my beautiful child was all primed to take herself over there again. No mother needed, according to her.
We talked about class this morning. I talked to her about not having practiced enough, and made her change shoes into something more appropriate for side jumps.
Everything was set.
So, come time to pick her up, The Little One and I get in the car and drive over to get her. We go just early enough to watch a couple of minutes of the class.
Once dismissed, The Little One runs over and grabs her, and we start walking out.

Now, you need just a tiny bit more back story here. Yellow cards are her First grade teacher's reward system. If you are good all day, at the end of each day you get a yellow card. Once you have 15 you can go to the prize box.
So, every day when I pick her up, the first thing she tells me is if she got a yellow card or not.

Today was no different. As soon as we started walking to the car, she started to tell me about her day.

"I got a yellow card, but had to give it back at the end of the day."

Why did you give it back?

"I got out of line. So, I had to give it back."

Why did you..

"OH! And I had to go to the Principal's office."


I will save you from a conversation that took me quite some time to unravel. It seems that at the end of the day, The Big One forgot that today was Karate day. So, when the bell rang, she stood in her line by the classroom where they wait for parents to pick them up. She waited, and waited. When she began to get nervous and upset, she got out of line to look for me. That would be when she lost the yellow card and had to give it back. Sometimes after I never came, the teacher took her to the office for her to wait there for me.

I couldn't believe all this. I wasn't sure if I should be upset that she forgot, or feel bad for her at first.

"Were you upset?"

"Yes, mom! I was really worried."

"Did you really think I had forgotten you?"

"Yes. I thought you just forgot to get me."

"Were you crying?"


Poor baby. Then I felt bad for her. I reminded her that I have never forgotten her, and that I couldn't just forget her. I also explained to her that someone would always come and get her. We have some special, wonderful, people in our lives that are on the list of those allowed to pick her up. I think there are about five extra names on that list. So, no matter what, someone is coming to get her.

She did, obviously, eventually go to Karate class. The office has a digital frame, and at some point, it flashed to people in Karate uniforms. She instantly remembered she was supposed to be in Karate class. Mind you, the office side windows face the area all the kids had to walk though to get to Karate, and I can't believe she didn't hear them out there, but I have stated before that The Big One lives on a different plain of awareness than the rest of us.

"Did you tell the office staff that you were supposed to be in class?"

"Yes! I told them that I had forgotten you weren't supposed to get me, and I was supposed to be in class."

"What did they say?"


I hope the office staff at least got a little chuckle out of it when it was over. I plan on speaking to the teacher in the morning just to make sure everything is cleared up and on future Tuesdays, I think I might send a note pinned to her backpack, or her shirt, just so she won't forgot again.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Little, White, Taco Bell Wraped Lies

You want the truth? Can you handle the truth?

The truth is, sometimes, parents tell their children little lies. Sometimes, little lies can make life easier, and can even seem necessary to get through a moment. Now, I realize that there are probably ways around telling the lies, but really, sometimes it just isn't worth it.

Today, I told a little lie. I chose to lie. The Little One has been cranky since her Daddy left for another of the infinite deployments we seem to keep having pop up. It hasn't been fun times for us. She is crankier, and much more demanding. She isn't sleeping at all, and that just makes the aforementioned problems even worse. While part of our day was great (and that is for another post), most of our day so far has been in a battle with her attitude.

So, when she woke up from her nap, and decided it was time to eat, I was prepared to avoid the lunch battle at all costs, and just ask her what she wanted. There would be no telling her to eat a good, healthy lunch today. If she would eat it, I would give it to her. She ask for a chicken taco. Not any chicken taco, but the left over chicken soft taco from Taco Bell that we got about 4 days ago. While it has been sitting in the fridge, I wouldn't say it was good by any means. The soft taco was now crunchy. That wasn't good. I tried to explain to The Little One why is wasn't good, but she wasn't about to hear it. Now, I fully realize that I could have taken this as an opportunity to teach her something, and go through the whole thing, tears over the taco, and all, but I just didn't have it in me today. I realize my limitations, and I knew I needed to roll with it this time.

So, I sent her out of the room, and tried to make her a taco on my own, quickly. Of course, she walks back in, sees the bag of precooked southwestern chicken strips (which she loves) and immediately tells me that she doesn't like that. Great.

Apparently, she was determined to have a fight. As determined as she was, though, I was just as determined not to fight any more. So, I sent her out again, and in about 45 seconds, I had a new taco together. Chicken on the tortilla, put it in the microwave for 20 seconds to warm it, and then throw cheese on it. The problem, of course, is that if I put it in a plate like that, she would question the taco. I did not want her to question the taco.

I heard her coming back into the kitchen, and i knew I needed to act fast.
So, I grabbed the old taco, pulled it out of the wrapper as carefully (it was really crunchy and folded inside the wrapper) and quickly as I could. I threw the new taco in, and started to fold it. Just as I folded the top down, she came in. I laid the taco on her plate like nothing was going on.

She took the taco, and seemed very happy. In fact, she ate it, or at least part of it. So, while she may think she got her way, I really got mine. There was no taco fight.

I'm sure this is far from the last time I will ever feel the need to deceive my children, but if we all end up happier in the end, and they still turn out ok, then I'm not going to lose any sleep over this one.