Issues

Bobby’s been getting in trouble at school and I’m kind of beside myself. His teacher has told me a couple of times - once at the parent/teacher conference last fall, and once a couple of months ago when I went to pick him up for chess club - that he needed to work on paying attention and not getting caught up in chatting with his friends. But lately things seem to be ramping up - she sent me a couple of private messages detailing bad behaviors (pulling a kid’s pants down, hitting a kid with his lunch bag repeatedly), in addition to the usual not listening and distracting people, etc.

I was upset, but I didn’t think it was the end of the world - for all I know, these behaviors are, while obviously not great, pretty standard for kindergarten boys. He’s never been sent to the office, and apparently some of the other boys are, and pretty regularly. Still, I took away desserts for a week, and the boyfriend took away some toys. He also set up a meeting with the teacher on Monday, and has talked to Bobby about “making good choices” until Bobby’s eyes glazed over.

Right now, Bobby doesn’t really seem to get it. All he knows is he’s being deprived of things, and he couldn’t tell you exactly why, no matter how many times we explained it. His story about the pants pulling down incident has changed again and again - we had him apologize to his teacher for lying about it; but then tonight he tried to say again that he didn’t actually do it even though everyone saw it. Sigh. 

I am emotionally drained. Naturally I blame myself - I’ve always put him first, I pick up after him like a slave, I rarely follow through on punishments - and I’ve created a monster. Or...maybe not. The other part of me thinks everything he’s doing, while regrettable and should be dealt with, is pretty normal six-year-old boy stuff. Part of me thinks it’s the end of the school year, he’s antsy and over it, and he and this teacher never really hit it off (I positively loathed my bitchy kindergarten teacher who told my mother I was “sneaky” and put a big bruise on my arm grabbing me, so maybe I’m projecting a little bit). 

Still, the thought of my precious little boy being considered one of the bad kids, a behavioral problem, scares the living shit out of me. I did not raise him to that; but all mothers of problem children think that. How could my sweet, gentle boy who named the little finches that visit the bird feeder outside our kitchen window, be the same boy that hits people with things and pulls down their pants? What should I be doing that I’m not? Am I just completely missing the mark? Or is the idea of the perfectly behaving six-year-old boy a myth? 

I barely have time to think about it before I take off for another singing trip, this time four hours north to San Luis Obispo. The timing couldn’t be worse, but part of me is relieved to get away from this for a couple of days. This issue, and season 2 of The Handmaid’s Tale, is all I’ve been able to think about this week.