Tomorrow is the beginning of Lent. For the next 40 days I will be praying for God to give me clearer perspective on my life and my struggles. I am very tired of feeling bogged down by the stuff I can't escape. Like right now I have birthday parties to plan and rsvp to, soccer cleats to buy, prescriptions to refill, papers to file, lessons to plan, emails to return, checks to write, meals to prepare... the list is endless, insurmountable, and it will be there for the next decade. I need to accept the fact that my desk will never be clear, my kitchen will always be a disaster, I will lose things and forget appointments and miss deadlines for the rest of my life as a mom. And none of it matters in the long run.
What does matter is that my family is a miracle, created by the grace of God and for His glory. I get to live in the middle of it and witness four beautiful children grow up together. I get a first row seat for hilarious scenes like last night's dinner when Thomas said, "Hey guys, look! There's a cat!" and we saw a weird yellow cat limp up toward our deck. Tinsaye yelled, "His leg is broken!" Meredith yelled, "He's pregnant!" and Solomon yelled, "His name is Cindy!" Then we cracked up for 10 minutes over the gimpy, pregnant, transgendered cat named Cindy until Brian yelled, "Hey, I hope he didn't go under the deck and die!" and then they all ran out to see if Cindy had expired (he/she appears to have limped off elsewhere to deliver and/or croak).
What is important in the story of Cindy is that a) we laugh together a lot, b) no one has grief issues so severe that they don't want to go look for a dead cat, c) we often eat meals together and its all the same food and it's not avocados, and d) everyone speaks English. These are big important things that I need to recognize and not just be grateful for, but truly see as miraculous gifts to be honored. I need God's help to shift my perspective from the daily grind to His plan for all of us (which does not hinge on my remembering to reschedule my dentist appointment).
Whatever your Lenten observances are, consider praying along with me this psalm:
Hide Your face from my sin and cover my iniquities
Create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit within me
Cast me not from Your presence, take not Your Spirit from me
Restore to me the joy of Your salvation
Restore to me the wonders of Your love
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
A Recent Conversation
Meredith, Solomon, and I were in the van on the way to my rheumatologist's office. We were on an unfamiliar road early in the morning and the kids were reading in the back seat.
Solomon: Where are we, Mom?
Joan: We're half way to Brighton to see my doctor.
Solomon: This place looks like hell!
Joan [puzzled, it is rather bleak, but the scene of eternal damnation?]: Umm... what do you mean, Solomon?
Solomon: The road, it is going up and down verrrrrry big.
Joan: Ahhh, there is a big HILL!
Solomon: Yes, a hell.
Meredith [mortified]: Solomon, you said a bad word!
Solomon [panicking]: No I did not!
Meredith [condescending]: Yes, you did. You said H-E-L-L and that is a swear word. It is where the devil lives and it is very very bad to say.
Solomon [confused and defensive]: No!! I am not talking about the devil I am talking about up and down!!
Joan: It's okay, Sol, you meant HILL which is when the ground goes up and down but it came out like HELL which is only a bad word, Meredith, when you say something like "what the h*** are you doing". It's not a bad word if you are talking about where the devil lives. But lets just not say it at all, okay guys?
Mere/Sol: Okay.
[a few seconds of silence]
Meredith: You'll get in big trouble if you say it on the school bus.
Joan: Meredith, leave him alone.
[a few more seconds of silence]
Solomon [resigned]: English is hard.
Solomon: Where are we, Mom?
Joan: We're half way to Brighton to see my doctor.
Solomon: This place looks like hell!
Joan [puzzled, it is rather bleak, but the scene of eternal damnation?]: Umm... what do you mean, Solomon?
Solomon: The road, it is going up and down verrrrrry big.
Joan: Ahhh, there is a big HILL!
Solomon: Yes, a hell.
Meredith [mortified]: Solomon, you said a bad word!
Solomon [panicking]: No I did not!
Meredith [condescending]: Yes, you did. You said H-E-L-L and that is a swear word. It is where the devil lives and it is very very bad to say.
Solomon [confused and defensive]: No!! I am not talking about the devil I am talking about up and down!!
Joan: It's okay, Sol, you meant HILL which is when the ground goes up and down but it came out like HELL which is only a bad word, Meredith, when you say something like "what the h*** are you doing". It's not a bad word if you are talking about where the devil lives. But lets just not say it at all, okay guys?
Mere/Sol: Okay.
[a few seconds of silence]
Meredith: You'll get in big trouble if you say it on the school bus.
Joan: Meredith, leave him alone.
[a few more seconds of silence]
Solomon [resigned]: English is hard.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Let the good times roll
We spent Sunday through Tuesday noon at Kalahari Resort and Indoor Waterpark in Sandusky, Ohio with the kids. Some neighborhood friends also joined us. This was a new experience, but I kind of forgot that it would be. The kids are so adaptable and seem so "American" now that it is really easy to forget that things are still new. Tinsaye does NOT like to not know everything, so she's a master at acting very blase'. As we were packing up, she said really quietly to me, "I've never been on a vacation." and Solomon asked, "Will we have to sleep in the car?".
I was very surprised that we did not get many strange looks at our unusual family. Maybe they were looking at us when my back was turned. I anticipated more staring. I guess there are more interesting people to stare at at a midwestern waterpark (think: obesity and tatoos). Tinsaye acts mortified at the teeny swimsuits and piercings on teenage girls. I think she's trying to gauge my reaction. I am, of course, appropriately disparaging, but I can see her storing it all away for future reference.
The kids had a great time. Loved the waterslides, the body surfing thing, the hotel room, and most of all the giant wave pool. Solomon stayed in the wave pool for so long the waves made him kind of nauseous. It was at the end of the night and he was exhausted and cold and when he gets tired his wandering eye gets much worse. and remember how I said he and Mere both had Fifth's Disease? Its like a rash and it can reappear for weeks, especially with temperature changes. So we were looking at poor Solomon at the end of the night, standing at the edge of the pool, shivering, covered in rash, his eyes going two different directions, and looking like he might hurl, and we said to each other, "I think he's done having fun."
It was good for all of us to just get out of the house for a few days. Now we're back to the grind, but I feel more optimistic about being able to hang on for the next few weeks.
PS. It would be cool if there was a photo of this trip to post on the blog, but alas, no photos exist. I was too busy keeping my eyes on all four at once. No time for pics.
I was very surprised that we did not get many strange looks at our unusual family. Maybe they were looking at us when my back was turned. I anticipated more staring. I guess there are more interesting people to stare at at a midwestern waterpark (think: obesity and tatoos). Tinsaye acts mortified at the teeny swimsuits and piercings on teenage girls. I think she's trying to gauge my reaction. I am, of course, appropriately disparaging, but I can see her storing it all away for future reference.
The kids had a great time. Loved the waterslides, the body surfing thing, the hotel room, and most of all the giant wave pool. Solomon stayed in the wave pool for so long the waves made him kind of nauseous. It was at the end of the night and he was exhausted and cold and when he gets tired his wandering eye gets much worse. and remember how I said he and Mere both had Fifth's Disease? Its like a rash and it can reappear for weeks, especially with temperature changes. So we were looking at poor Solomon at the end of the night, standing at the edge of the pool, shivering, covered in rash, his eyes going two different directions, and looking like he might hurl, and we said to each other, "I think he's done having fun."
It was good for all of us to just get out of the house for a few days. Now we're back to the grind, but I feel more optimistic about being able to hang on for the next few weeks.
PS. It would be cool if there was a photo of this trip to post on the blog, but alas, no photos exist. I was too busy keeping my eyes on all four at once. No time for pics.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Overload Part 2
In the week since my last post:
1. Tinsaye got strep throat, was sick all last weekend and missed two days of school (which meant Brian and I each missed a day of work).
2. We discovered that the roof is leaking by the chimney and now we have water damage down the wall in our living room.
3. Our hot water heater broke and started leaking all over the basement.
4. We took the van in for an oil change and learned that it needs $600 worth of repairs.
On the up side, we are going to a waterpark/hotel for a couple days (as long as we make it through the coming snow/ice storm) and that should be a blast. Right now, everyone is healthy and it will be nice to not look at the water stain in the living room for a few days. And our shiny new industrial-size hot water heater is cranking out the BTUs... Brian promises it's big enough to not run out of hot water in spite of the 400 loads of laundry he does per week.
I appreciate those of you who took the time to message me last week. I need all the encouragement I can get.
1. Tinsaye got strep throat, was sick all last weekend and missed two days of school (which meant Brian and I each missed a day of work).
2. We discovered that the roof is leaking by the chimney and now we have water damage down the wall in our living room.
3. Our hot water heater broke and started leaking all over the basement.
4. We took the van in for an oil change and learned that it needs $600 worth of repairs.
On the up side, we are going to a waterpark/hotel for a couple days (as long as we make it through the coming snow/ice storm) and that should be a blast. Right now, everyone is healthy and it will be nice to not look at the water stain in the living room for a few days. And our shiny new industrial-size hot water heater is cranking out the BTUs... Brian promises it's big enough to not run out of hot water in spite of the 400 loads of laundry he does per week.
I appreciate those of you who took the time to message me last week. I need all the encouragement I can get.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Overload
[Caution: this is not a happy post, sorry. But it's my blog and I feel the need to vent a bit.]
One of the really crummy things about Michigan winters is being constantly surrounded by germs. The kids pick up everything and then share it with all of us. In the last month Solomon was throwing up, sore throat, cough, missed several days of school. Meredith had pinkeye and now she and Solomon both have Fifths Disease. Tinsaye and Thomas have had random upper respiratory problems and digestive complaints, but they haven't missed school. It's all viral (except the pinkeye) and nothing can be done except wait it out. In the meantime, Brian and I have to miss work, reschedule plans, take them to the doctor and/or pharmacy, and try to guess who will get it next while frantically disinfecting the house. We knew we were probably going to have plenty of sick times with everyone getting used to new germs, but this is getting really frustrating.
Everything would be so much easier if one of us wasn't working. I love my job (mostly), and I really don't want to be not working at all, but I there are times when I think I would give anything if my responsibilities were cut in half.
Things at school have been really horribly lately. Due to declining enrollment in our district, the school board is considering closing a middle school and/or moving 5th grade to middle school and completely reconfiguring all buildings k-8. This has turned into a political and emotional Armageddon for the entire school community. No decision has been made yet and every day that goes by ratchets up the fear, anger, and mistrust that everyone is feeling. Every conversation I have with staff and parents involves this issue. It poisons my days. Additionally, I've had a lot of serious issues with students and parents that are really stressing me out. I am not having fun at work AT ALL these days. Nothing I do seems to be about teaching and learning anymore. It seems to be about documenting my decisions, disciplining students whose parents are then angry with me, avoiding politically sensitive conversations, and basically getting through the day.
Then I come home to sick kids. Or I have to suddenly leave work early to go get a sick kid, adding further stress to my days. The burden of the responsibilities I have on a daily basis is really wearing me down.
When I was a kid, both sets of my grandparents lived within 2 miles of our house. Sometimes I have fantasies of having my parents and my in-laws that close, so that the kids could go there if I was late getting home. Or they could pick up the sick kid from school or stay home with them when they suddenly start puking at 7:30am. Or we could eat dinner at their house when I just can't face figuring out a meal at the end of a really horrible day. We have amazing neighbors and friends who have helped us out a million times in situations like this, but I always feel guilty about this, like I can't quite keep my life together. I don't think I'd feel the same guilt if family was helping out.
I can't stop working, we need the insurance even if we could figure out a way to do with the money. My parents and inlaws aren't moving in next door any time soon. I guess I'll just deal. Fatigue, stress, guilt... that's how I roll for now.
One of the really crummy things about Michigan winters is being constantly surrounded by germs. The kids pick up everything and then share it with all of us. In the last month Solomon was throwing up, sore throat, cough, missed several days of school. Meredith had pinkeye and now she and Solomon both have Fifths Disease. Tinsaye and Thomas have had random upper respiratory problems and digestive complaints, but they haven't missed school. It's all viral (except the pinkeye) and nothing can be done except wait it out. In the meantime, Brian and I have to miss work, reschedule plans, take them to the doctor and/or pharmacy, and try to guess who will get it next while frantically disinfecting the house. We knew we were probably going to have plenty of sick times with everyone getting used to new germs, but this is getting really frustrating.
Everything would be so much easier if one of us wasn't working. I love my job (mostly), and I really don't want to be not working at all, but I there are times when I think I would give anything if my responsibilities were cut in half.
Things at school have been really horribly lately. Due to declining enrollment in our district, the school board is considering closing a middle school and/or moving 5th grade to middle school and completely reconfiguring all buildings k-8. This has turned into a political and emotional Armageddon for the entire school community. No decision has been made yet and every day that goes by ratchets up the fear, anger, and mistrust that everyone is feeling. Every conversation I have with staff and parents involves this issue. It poisons my days. Additionally, I've had a lot of serious issues with students and parents that are really stressing me out. I am not having fun at work AT ALL these days. Nothing I do seems to be about teaching and learning anymore. It seems to be about documenting my decisions, disciplining students whose parents are then angry with me, avoiding politically sensitive conversations, and basically getting through the day.
Then I come home to sick kids. Or I have to suddenly leave work early to go get a sick kid, adding further stress to my days. The burden of the responsibilities I have on a daily basis is really wearing me down.
When I was a kid, both sets of my grandparents lived within 2 miles of our house. Sometimes I have fantasies of having my parents and my in-laws that close, so that the kids could go there if I was late getting home. Or they could pick up the sick kid from school or stay home with them when they suddenly start puking at 7:30am. Or we could eat dinner at their house when I just can't face figuring out a meal at the end of a really horrible day. We have amazing neighbors and friends who have helped us out a million times in situations like this, but I always feel guilty about this, like I can't quite keep my life together. I don't think I'd feel the same guilt if family was helping out.
I can't stop working, we need the insurance even if we could figure out a way to do with the money. My parents and inlaws aren't moving in next door any time soon. I guess I'll just deal. Fatigue, stress, guilt... that's how I roll for now.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Behavior Management 101
We are super lucky that all the kids are good students, hard workers, and behave themselves in school. We have made it abundantly clear that we expect nothing less.
Two weeks ago Solomon's teacher, Miss Johnson, emailed me that he was ignoring her student teacher's directions and misbehaving in class and that same day the recess ladies came in to tell her that he had ignored their directions on the playground as well. When he came home from school that day I said calmly, "Solomon, Miss Johnson told me that you had some problems at school today." His siblings all froze in their tracks and looked intently at him... then me... then him... something big was going down here and they didn't want to miss anything.
Solomon dropped his head, stared at the floor, stuck out his bottom lip, and refused to respond. So I said, "Let's go up to my room and you can explain the situation." Not good for the sibs, who just lost their front row seat to The Smackdown.. Up in my room, I continued to get the lip and complete absence of eye contact, punctuated occasionally with high-pitched, inarticulate whining. After 30 minutes of attempted avoidance and denial, he FINALLY admitted that he was not following directions and then he cried hysterically for another 10 minutes. I hugged him and reassured him that dad and I will always love him and it's okay to make mistakes. However, problems at school always mean consequences at home and that for the rest of the night he had lost his TV, computer, and video games AND tomorrow he needed to go to the recess ladies and the student teacher an apologize and tell them what he was going to do differently next time. He accepted this bad news with resignation, sniffed up the last of his tears, and carried on with his electronically diminished evening.
The next day I emailed Miss Johnson to find out if he apologized to her. No he didn't, and he claimed he didn't know who the recess ladies were, so no apology there either and he came back from PE crying because he had gotten the Dreaded Pink Note from the PE teacher Mrs. Wilson for not following directions in PE! Three strikes. Bad news. He slunk in the door at 4:30, avoiding eye contact at all costs, hoping to go unnoticed. No such luck. He was dragged back up to my room for another Smackdown. This time, however, it only took about 10 minutes of pouting/avoidance/whining before he 'fessed up and the crying only lasted about 5 minutes. But.."because you didn't get the message the first time, you lost all your electronics again tonight AND you have to stay in your room except for dinner AND dad is going to drive you to school tomorrow and walk you in to find all the people you need to apologize to and make sure you do it."
The next day was not fun for poor Solomon. Dad witnessed the teacher apologies, but the recess ladies were not in yet, so he told Thomas to verify that Solomon did apologize to them and report out at dinner. Thomas LOVES to play any role in connection with meting out justice. At dinner he verified that, yes indeed, Solomon did apologize to the recess ladies. I said to Solomon, "I'm really proud of you for handling this, honey. Was it really hard for you?" and he said, "I am very scared, so I go to corner of playground and I pray 'Jesus, make me not be scared' and then I go say 'I am sorry I not listening to you and I do a better job listening now' and they say 'is okay Solomon' and Miss Jenny is hugging me and then I go back to corner of playground and I pray 'Jesus, help me not do any more bad stuff today so I do not have to apologize to anyone else!'" Beautiful. How can you not adore a kid like this?
So all is well for several days. Miss Johnson reported improvement, no Dreaded Pink Notes, everything is cool. Then last week Solomon came in the door with head down, lip out, but this time he is already holding the Dreaded Pink Note in his hand. No attempt to avoid the inevitable. He was going down hard and he met his fate with courage and resignation. I said, "Solomon! Another pink note? What happened?"
"Mom, I am having a very bad day. My stomach is hurting all morning, VERRRRRRRY bad, but you say no calling home unless you is barfing so I just stay but my stomach is SO sore and then I eat lunch and it is better but then my head is hurting VERRRRRRRRRY bad, and my eye is hurting too [note to reader: this is extreme manipulation because he knows we worry endlessly about his eyes so this was really his ace in the hole, used only for dire straits] and then I go to PE and then..... I get pink note for squeezing the chicken." Big sad tears come out.
Okay, so... I'm thinking several things simultaneously: a) squeezing the chicken???? what?!?!?!?! I hope that doesn't mean what I'm afraid it means. b) don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh c) what am I going to come up with for the next level of consequences? d) I can't WAIT to tell Brian!!!
But I calmly say "Can you explain exactly what chicken you were squeezing and why this was a problem for Mrs. Wilson in PE?" Turns out they were playing a game like Steal the Bacon and they were using a rubber chicken as the object to steal. Mrs. Wilson had asked all the kids to not touch the chicken while she was giving directions but to a little kid who'd never seen a rubber chicken, that thing was crazy cool and begging to be squeezed! He just couldn't resist! It's squishy! It's neck doesn't crunch like a real chicken when you twist it!! But then, Mrs. Wilson, who is really running out of patience with Solomon, laid down the hammer and gave him the Dreaded Pink Note. As he's telling me all this, and I'm holding the Dreaded Pink Note, and the big sad tears keep rolling down his face, he pulls out a tiny bright orange ticket from his pocket. This was a "Caught Being Good" ticket that he had also earned for responsible behavior in the hallway. The poor kid was faced with the evidence of his day: The giant 8 1/2 x 11 Dreaded Pink Note for squeezing the chicken and the tiny 1x2 Orange Note for doing the right thing.
So he got a lot of hugs and recognition that he has been making many, many good choices every day and we know how hard he has been working to follow directions. And we know that it's really hard sometimes to be a good listener, but that Mrs. Wilson really needs to know that he understands what is going on and he needs to listen in PE too, even when it's hard. And yes, he lost all his electronics again tonight, and yes, he was going to have to apologize again, but Dad and I will talk more about consequences when he get home from work.
So when Brian walks in the door I said, "You are not going to believe what Solomon did today!!!" and explained the whole thing to him. We laughed and laughed and laughed and then Brian said, "I'm going to have some fun with this one!" So Brian gave Solomon the same firm but loving lecture I did and this time he said, "Solomon, I think you need to write your apology in a letter to Mrs. Wilson and just to make sure you get the point, you'd better write it twice." (to me: "So we can keep one, it's going to be hilarious when he's a senior in high school!!!"). So Solomon writes:
Dear Mrs. Wilson,
I am sorry for not listening to you in gym class. Next time when you tell me to stop squeezing the chicken I will listen to your directions and I will keep trying to follow the directions.
Thank you
Solomon
So one note got taken to Mrs. Wilson (who has a terrific sense of humor and found all this just as funny as we did) and one note got filed away for future humiliation.
Since then, all has been quiet. We'll see how long it lasts.
Two weeks ago Solomon's teacher, Miss Johnson, emailed me that he was ignoring her student teacher's directions and misbehaving in class and that same day the recess ladies came in to tell her that he had ignored their directions on the playground as well. When he came home from school that day I said calmly, "Solomon, Miss Johnson told me that you had some problems at school today." His siblings all froze in their tracks and looked intently at him... then me... then him... something big was going down here and they didn't want to miss anything.
Solomon dropped his head, stared at the floor, stuck out his bottom lip, and refused to respond. So I said, "Let's go up to my room and you can explain the situation." Not good for the sibs, who just lost their front row seat to The Smackdown.. Up in my room, I continued to get the lip and complete absence of eye contact, punctuated occasionally with high-pitched, inarticulate whining. After 30 minutes of attempted avoidance and denial, he FINALLY admitted that he was not following directions and then he cried hysterically for another 10 minutes. I hugged him and reassured him that dad and I will always love him and it's okay to make mistakes. However, problems at school always mean consequences at home and that for the rest of the night he had lost his TV, computer, and video games AND tomorrow he needed to go to the recess ladies and the student teacher an apologize and tell them what he was going to do differently next time. He accepted this bad news with resignation, sniffed up the last of his tears, and carried on with his electronically diminished evening.
The next day I emailed Miss Johnson to find out if he apologized to her. No he didn't, and he claimed he didn't know who the recess ladies were, so no apology there either and he came back from PE crying because he had gotten the Dreaded Pink Note from the PE teacher Mrs. Wilson for not following directions in PE! Three strikes. Bad news. He slunk in the door at 4:30, avoiding eye contact at all costs, hoping to go unnoticed. No such luck. He was dragged back up to my room for another Smackdown. This time, however, it only took about 10 minutes of pouting/avoidance/whining before he 'fessed up and the crying only lasted about 5 minutes. But.."because you didn't get the message the first time, you lost all your electronics again tonight AND you have to stay in your room except for dinner AND dad is going to drive you to school tomorrow and walk you in to find all the people you need to apologize to and make sure you do it."
The next day was not fun for poor Solomon. Dad witnessed the teacher apologies, but the recess ladies were not in yet, so he told Thomas to verify that Solomon did apologize to them and report out at dinner. Thomas LOVES to play any role in connection with meting out justice. At dinner he verified that, yes indeed, Solomon did apologize to the recess ladies. I said to Solomon, "I'm really proud of you for handling this, honey. Was it really hard for you?" and he said, "I am very scared, so I go to corner of playground and I pray 'Jesus, make me not be scared' and then I go say 'I am sorry I not listening to you and I do a better job listening now' and they say 'is okay Solomon' and Miss Jenny is hugging me and then I go back to corner of playground and I pray 'Jesus, help me not do any more bad stuff today so I do not have to apologize to anyone else!'" Beautiful. How can you not adore a kid like this?
So all is well for several days. Miss Johnson reported improvement, no Dreaded Pink Notes, everything is cool. Then last week Solomon came in the door with head down, lip out, but this time he is already holding the Dreaded Pink Note in his hand. No attempt to avoid the inevitable. He was going down hard and he met his fate with courage and resignation. I said, "Solomon! Another pink note? What happened?"
"Mom, I am having a very bad day. My stomach is hurting all morning, VERRRRRRRY bad, but you say no calling home unless you is barfing so I just stay but my stomach is SO sore and then I eat lunch and it is better but then my head is hurting VERRRRRRRRRY bad, and my eye is hurting too [note to reader: this is extreme manipulation because he knows we worry endlessly about his eyes so this was really his ace in the hole, used only for dire straits] and then I go to PE and then..... I get pink note for squeezing the chicken." Big sad tears come out.
Okay, so... I'm thinking several things simultaneously: a) squeezing the chicken???? what?!?!?!?! I hope that doesn't mean what I'm afraid it means. b) don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh don't laugh c) what am I going to come up with for the next level of consequences? d) I can't WAIT to tell Brian!!!
But I calmly say "Can you explain exactly what chicken you were squeezing and why this was a problem for Mrs. Wilson in PE?" Turns out they were playing a game like Steal the Bacon and they were using a rubber chicken as the object to steal. Mrs. Wilson had asked all the kids to not touch the chicken while she was giving directions but to a little kid who'd never seen a rubber chicken, that thing was crazy cool and begging to be squeezed! He just couldn't resist! It's squishy! It's neck doesn't crunch like a real chicken when you twist it!! But then, Mrs. Wilson, who is really running out of patience with Solomon, laid down the hammer and gave him the Dreaded Pink Note. As he's telling me all this, and I'm holding the Dreaded Pink Note, and the big sad tears keep rolling down his face, he pulls out a tiny bright orange ticket from his pocket. This was a "Caught Being Good" ticket that he had also earned for responsible behavior in the hallway. The poor kid was faced with the evidence of his day: The giant 8 1/2 x 11 Dreaded Pink Note for squeezing the chicken and the tiny 1x2 Orange Note for doing the right thing.
So he got a lot of hugs and recognition that he has been making many, many good choices every day and we know how hard he has been working to follow directions. And we know that it's really hard sometimes to be a good listener, but that Mrs. Wilson really needs to know that he understands what is going on and he needs to listen in PE too, even when it's hard. And yes, he lost all his electronics again tonight, and yes, he was going to have to apologize again, but Dad and I will talk more about consequences when he get home from work.
So when Brian walks in the door I said, "You are not going to believe what Solomon did today!!!" and explained the whole thing to him. We laughed and laughed and laughed and then Brian said, "I'm going to have some fun with this one!" So Brian gave Solomon the same firm but loving lecture I did and this time he said, "Solomon, I think you need to write your apology in a letter to Mrs. Wilson and just to make sure you get the point, you'd better write it twice." (to me: "So we can keep one, it's going to be hilarious when he's a senior in high school!!!"). So Solomon writes:
Dear Mrs. Wilson,
I am sorry for not listening to you in gym class. Next time when you tell me to stop squeezing the chicken I will listen to your directions and I will keep trying to follow the directions.
Thank you
Solomon
So one note got taken to Mrs. Wilson (who has a terrific sense of humor and found all this just as funny as we did) and one note got filed away for future humiliation.
Since then, all has been quiet. We'll see how long it lasts.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Better Late Than Never... Christmas in Review
So many people have asked us "how did the kids like Christmas?" I think this song pretty much sums it up. They loved the stuff, but they were so happy to have a family, that was the best part for them. Thomas and Meredith also saw Christmas differently this year... through Solomon and Tinsaye's eyes.
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