"He's A Joy"
That would be my son. (thank you, thank you very much) Don't hate me because he's a little ray of sunshine, we had to pay major dues to get here.
Thursday night was Open House at the school. Little man showed Daddy and I around the room. . . here's my locker, here's our pet hermit crabs, here's my cubby, here's my desk, etc.... While I'm going through the motions, inside I'm building up the courage to approach the teacher with the big question. How's my son doing, how's his behavior? Finally, I ask and stand back bracing myself for the answer. With a sweet, sincere smile on her face, she answers, "He's a joy."
I immediately was flooded with emotions. I could have instantly broke down and had a major Oprah moment on her, or on the other hand, lost all regard for personal space (a lesson we are still trying to teach my son) and given the teacher the biggest bear hug ever. Somehow I gained some composure and fumbled out something like, Wow....That's wonderful! ....I'm so glad to hear it!
After I floated out of her room on Cloud 9, I went to Little Man's teacher from last year. I told her how great he is doing and gave her that big bear hug. I give her so much of the credit for his success at school. Thank God for sweet, nurturing teachers.
I know, you might think I'm over-reacting a tad, but let me tell ya. It was just 2 years ago, Little Man was in kindergarten. It was a complete nightmare.
Every day I would drop him off at school and he would walk in crying as I would drive to work crying. That was each day, all year long. My husband, while not completely understanding all the emotion, would listen to me every day on his 15 min. morning break from work as I would cry what a horrible failure I was as a mother and how in the hell will we survive kindergarten not to mention the 12 grades to follow?
There's no worse feeling in the world than sending your child into a situation where he doesn't feel liked by his peers (the worst part of the day for him was recess), where the teacher, although she would never say it, see's your child as "that bad kid," the counselor's giving her 2 cents on why he's "acting out," and finally he'll end up in the principal's office and/or detention at least once a week. I swear, he was sent to the principal's office way more times than my hubby and I were throughout our whole school experience.
I remember sitting in a meeting with hubby by my side creating a "plan of improvement" with the teacher, counselor, and principal. The word "helpless" comes to mind describing how you feel and I don't think there are words to describe the pain. I mean, he's my baby. I just sat through the whole thing and cried. I couldn't talk, the tears were like a faucet that I couldn't turn off.
At the end of the year, their recommendation was that he repeat kindergarten . . . Are you kidding me, we barely survived the first time around.
My saving grace. . . on a fluke, we put our house up for sale, it sold within a week, we built our dream house right behind the cutest little country school, enrolled Little Man into T1 (Transitional First Grade)I quit my job to start a new business (way risky, but it worked out), and thus had more time to be at home for both kids.
It was a time of New Beginnings . . . and Tonight was a milestone. So, you see how those simple words could affect me so deeply?
This evening, I tucked little man into bed and with tears in my eyes I said, "I'm so proud of you, I'm so happy that I get to be your mom, baby you are truly a joy. . . I love you." He reached over and squeezed my neck tight and said, "I love you mom."
What an amazing night!
Thursday night was Open House at the school. Little man showed Daddy and I around the room. . . here's my locker, here's our pet hermit crabs, here's my cubby, here's my desk, etc.... While I'm going through the motions, inside I'm building up the courage to approach the teacher with the big question. How's my son doing, how's his behavior? Finally, I ask and stand back bracing myself for the answer. With a sweet, sincere smile on her face, she answers, "He's a joy."
I immediately was flooded with emotions. I could have instantly broke down and had a major Oprah moment on her, or on the other hand, lost all regard for personal space (a lesson we are still trying to teach my son) and given the teacher the biggest bear hug ever. Somehow I gained some composure and fumbled out something like, Wow....That's wonderful! ....I'm so glad to hear it!
After I floated out of her room on Cloud 9, I went to Little Man's teacher from last year. I told her how great he is doing and gave her that big bear hug. I give her so much of the credit for his success at school. Thank God for sweet, nurturing teachers.
I know, you might think I'm over-reacting a tad, but let me tell ya. It was just 2 years ago, Little Man was in kindergarten. It was a complete nightmare.
Every day I would drop him off at school and he would walk in crying as I would drive to work crying. That was each day, all year long. My husband, while not completely understanding all the emotion, would listen to me every day on his 15 min. morning break from work as I would cry what a horrible failure I was as a mother and how in the hell will we survive kindergarten not to mention the 12 grades to follow?
There's no worse feeling in the world than sending your child into a situation where he doesn't feel liked by his peers (the worst part of the day for him was recess), where the teacher, although she would never say it, see's your child as "that bad kid," the counselor's giving her 2 cents on why he's "acting out," and finally he'll end up in the principal's office and/or detention at least once a week. I swear, he was sent to the principal's office way more times than my hubby and I were throughout our whole school experience.
I remember sitting in a meeting with hubby by my side creating a "plan of improvement" with the teacher, counselor, and principal. The word "helpless" comes to mind describing how you feel and I don't think there are words to describe the pain. I mean, he's my baby. I just sat through the whole thing and cried. I couldn't talk, the tears were like a faucet that I couldn't turn off.
At the end of the year, their recommendation was that he repeat kindergarten . . . Are you kidding me, we barely survived the first time around.
My saving grace. . . on a fluke, we put our house up for sale, it sold within a week, we built our dream house right behind the cutest little country school, enrolled Little Man into T1 (Transitional First Grade)I quit my job to start a new business (way risky, but it worked out), and thus had more time to be at home for both kids.
It was a time of New Beginnings . . . and Tonight was a milestone. So, you see how those simple words could affect me so deeply?
This evening, I tucked little man into bed and with tears in my eyes I said, "I'm so proud of you, I'm so happy that I get to be your mom, baby you are truly a joy. . . I love you." He reached over and squeezed my neck tight and said, "I love you mom."
What an amazing night!
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