I've been sick since a week ago Saturday and there seems to be no end in sight. I don't know if its a cold or flu virus or just allergies working overtime and making my lungs and throat all nasty. I think I have to go to the doctor if it continues much longer. In the meantime, I've got a voice that's a combination between Brenda Vaccaro and a three-pack-a-day smoker.
Nothing terribly remarkable happened through most of last week, but then we got to Thursday and it got all lively around here.
The fun began when my adorable, darling son got a two day suspension from school for hitting someone.
Race Car man is the wunderkind of deciding what he wants to have happen and then doing whatever is necessary to achieve his goals. He had a substitute teacher on Thursday, and although this sub has had reasonable success with him in the past, he decided he'd rather be at Grandma's playing with toys. He started acting out in class, and whenever he was redirected he just upped the ante, to the point he had to be removed from the classroom. After ending up in the office hecontinued to escalate. The school is well aware that his preferred consequence is to get to go home from school, so we work together on keeping that as the DFL* option. When he realized he wasn't achieving his goal, he got physical. Not only did he hit an adult, he stomped on her foot for good measure.
Wish granted. Off to Grandma's you go, son, do not pass GO and do not collect your two hundred bucks.
Its not exactly fun being the parent of the kid who's bullying and hitting others.
I make a point of apologizing and I make sure I let the school know that I support their efforts to maintain order and discipline and to keep students and teachers safe. I communicate to them the consequences I will be applying so that they know the behavior will be addressed. I find that its important to reassure teachers and administrators that this child has active and involved parents and that this isn't a problem they are flying solo in dealing with.
And then I knuckle down and institute consequences for my kid. Which means NO Skylanders, NO computer, NO TV. He has to earn them back by making good choices with his behavior at home and at school.
His mind doesn't yet process human interactions in a way that helps him understand that hitting is wrong. He can grasp that its something we don't want him to do, but in his brain its only because we want to prevent him from getting his way.
It has been hard to watch his hysterical sobbing over losing his Skylanders. But I need him to learn this lesson. He can't be a successful adult if he just hauls off and clocks people who piss him off at work. I want him to know that we all feel like doing that at times, but that just because we are frustrated doesn't mean we can hurt others.
So Thursday was a definite low, with my Rocky wannabe and the associated not-fun of imposing consequences. I tell you, though, sometimes its like the universe wants to make it up to you when things suck, because Saturday and Sunday were amazeballs.
Michelle and I went to a clinic with a new trainer we had heard about, and holy crap, you guys, what a great day it was. I've found as I get older that I don't have as much confidence on my horse as when I was young. I'm less inclined to push him hard and I'm far more cognizant of not wanting to get hurt. If you want to improve at anything, though, you need to push past your comfort zone. The right trainer is the one who wants to see you and your horse succeed, who can judge your skill level accurately and assess your deficiencies, then find ways to teach you what you need to know and ways to get you to do the things you're capable of but scared to try. Tim is all of that and more, and it was such a blast to learn from him. Totally worth the money and he probably should be charging more. I will be going back to learn more as soon as possible.
Sunday, though, was the best day EVER. Why, you ask?
MY HUSBAND CAME HOME.
If you hate the mushy junk, TURN YOUR EYES AWAY. My house is full of the mushy junk. The hugging, the hand holding, the smooching, the can't-get-enough-of-you, you smell just like I remembered and I thought I'd die missing the feel of your hand on the small of my back just like you're doing right now.
The dogs are happy, the kids are happy, and I am over the moon.
*dead fucking last