Been getting a number of phone calls about Mac. Mac is our first son, the curly blonde up there. He's a free spirit to say the least. He's dancing all by himself in that photo. There is no music playing. He's just happy and getting his groove on.
The phone calls are from school. He has a number of behaviors that are upsetting to the teacher/recess kid watcher person. Pushing, grabbing, chucking balls at others.
For Mac, like all boys, social justice is a big trigger. If someone cuts in the lunch line, takes a toy, sticks out a tongue. . . it's an act of war. And boys--being boys--respond physically. Hence the pushing, grabbing, chucking balls AND PHONE CALLS FROM HIS TEACHER.
These type of phone calls make me crazy. The mommy bear instinct rises up and I get huffy about them. How dare they talk smack about Mac? He's a loving kid with goofiness galore. He has so much empathy and love. He's a good kid.
Also, what am I suppose to do about his behavior AT SCHOOL? I am home/at work. NOT THERE. I can't do anything about it. So I sympathize and comfort the teacher on these phone calls. Kids are nuts.
TEACHERS DESERVE COMBAT PAY.
Then after I comfort the teacher-- I discuss the situation with Mr. Hall. He's better with this type of thing than I. He suggests a number of things and they are tried. But we still get phone calls. It's a work in progress.
Mr. Hall doesn't make a big deal about it. He is very calm and reminds me of the penis bite . . .
This one time, at dinner with couple friends, the mom leans in, almost in tears. These are good friends, NORMAL friends. The mom leans and tells me about a note she got when she picked up her little boy at day care that day.
She said, "They said he pulled another boy's pants down and bit his penis." The boy was three.
As long as we don't get that type of phone call, we should be ok.
This is our second son. He was born little and not without complications.
The complications were little too. They only required a week in the NICU.
Then he came home to the waiting arms of these guys.
His brother and sister.
I would say more but I'm only sleeping 2 hours at a time. I sleep and nurse our son. Sleep and nurse. And nurse and sleep. I don't really have words lately. Just a sense of joy, relief, happiness, crazy spasm happy tears and absolute thankfulness.