That lasts for all of 30 seconds. I mean honestly – your heart would have to be made of stone to be able to not go in there and talk her down.
Last week, Rambo and I had multiple very adult-like conversations with her after Thursday’s debacle of finally having to have Rambo’s military father get her and take her to school. We made it very clear that we understand her fears but we have to conquer them together and that we believe she can do it.
Again, the Grandpa debacle was Thursday morning. The talks were Thursday night. Friday morning the angels sang. Not a single tear and smiles all the way to school! Thank you, Jesus!!!
Sunday night comes the obligatory sobbing because school is in the morning. Then the mother who is at her wit’s end promising all sorts of things like “If you go to school without a fit, we’ll decorate for Halloween when you get home. I’ll take a bike ride with you. I’ll buy you a pony.”
Finally, I decide to lay with her so she calms down – hoping the extra loving will help all of this. I laid next to my little girl and stared at her tear-stained cheeks and her precious little closed eyes. I look down because I hear crumpling. There in her hand – squeezed with a death grip – is a picture of me and Rambo.
At this point I have no heart left. It’s gone. Bloody ruined and torn out by my own spawn, I tell you.
Rambo didn’t have to be in the semi until 7am this morning so that meant he was around before the girls and I got ready for school and work. I was secretly thanking God for that little gift of him starting 4 hours later than usual….his presence alone will let Banana know she cannot have a fit.
I was about half ready and going to get the girls up. I thought Rambo was in the shower. I walked into Banana’s room and there – on her tiny smaller than twin bed – was Rambo. All scrunched up so he fit – with Banana in his arms….talking to her softly, telling her it was time to get up.
God I love that man.
Some day when my girls own and read this blog – these are the things I want them to know about their father.
Anyway – that morning, she never shed a tear. Smiled the whole way to school. Helped pack her own lunch.
I was freaking living in CareBear Land. I was thinking of putting down roots there and even farting a few gumdrops for good measure.
Until about 3pm that is. I got an email from the teacher and the subject line just said “today”.
I feel I got catapulted out of Care Bear Land and into “one step forward – two steps back” land. And let me tell you – it sucks here.
You see, Banana had a spelling pre-test. They get a piece of paper and on the right are 10 words. On the left it is blank. The kids fold the paper down the middle and the teacher tells them the words and they try to write them down how they think they are spelled. When they are done – they unfold the paper – and self-correct and see if what they wrote matches the correct spelling on the right.
This was only their second time doing this since school started. My brilliant child didn’t know how to spell a word, so she just flipped the paper over and looked. Then I think she realized how easy that was and kept doing it.
My kid is a cheater. Double shitballs. (This is karma for not enrolling her in religious education classes.)
Anyway – the teacher saw her, caught her eye – and Banana immediately starts to cry knowing she did wrong. The teacher emailed me to tell me that Banana cheated. She has to stay in from recess. She has to also write an apology.
Great. This is going to make her want to go to school more than ever now.
Again…reason number fifty bazillion and one – why homeschooling sounds more appealing every day.
Rambo was pissed they put the correct words right in front of the kids – to almost taunt them. I guess it’s called “self-correcting”. I’m sure it’s teaching them self-control
There was one fun thing though at the end of the school day among all this bullshit. We got Banana’s school pictures back. I remember on picture day it was a little bit of a teary morning and she was missing Rambo.
She put his old necklace from when he was a kid into her bookbag. Seriously people – this thing is so ugly. It’s a thick silver chain and it has a robot on it as a charm. The robot has red eyes or some damn thing and it’s big and bulky and not girly at all. Honestly – so ugly.
But it’s Rambo’s from when he was a little boy and she damn well knows it. (I often wonder why little boys would wear such things but I'm afraid to ask.) I knew she took it to school with her that day. I was praying with everything in me that she didn’t put it on before picture time.
There it is – on her school pictures – forever and ever. The big ol’ silver, red-eyed robot. It almost looks like I planned it because her background is red so at least it coordinates.
Can you imagine what the guy taking pictures must have thought when my kid walked up to him? He probably tried to get her to take it off but she probably kicked him in the face for even mentioning it.
Rambo got home and I showed him. I said, “See what you’ve done to my precious baby’s pictures?”
He just smiled and said, “Oh yah, I see it.”
Imagine what all the relatives will say and think when they get her pictures in the mail.
Oh, I just got an email from the teacher saying Banana wrote a nice apology letter this morning for cheating. I wanted to ask who exactly she apologized to but I thought I better not. The spelling Gods? The teacher? The cheating Gods? The school?
It’s okay. She never even cried today either. I have a feeling it could be because big ol’ Rambo was in her bed this morning again to wake her up.
It’s not so surprising that she wears his ugly ass robot after all, is it?