My 5yr Told His Music Teacher Exactly What He Thought

As I was tucking my son in for bed after his third day of school, he looked up at me and said, "Mama, I hate my school."

**My heart breaks** 

Those were not the words I wanted to hear out of my son after his third day of kindergarten. "Buddy. I'm sorry to hear that. What don't you like about school?"

He stares me down with his sad eyes and says, "I was crying today and I really wanted you, but they wouldn't get you for me."

**My broken heart shatters to pieces.** 

 "Honey... What happened? Why were you crying?" 

"We had to go down to the music teachers room in the basement and I thought she was a scary old witch and it was a trap."

I honestly had to hold back my laughter. A, Trap?!?!  A friggin trap? WTF???  

"Dude. Why in the world would you think the music teacher was a witch and you were being lured into a trap?" 

I swear... My husband and the video games and shit they watch is to blame for this. 

The poor guy was so serious when he said, "Mommy, she had funny color gray hair piled on top of her head. It looked like a wig. And her face was really old. Her room was at the very end of a long hall in the basement and I thought it was a trap, so I started crying and asking for you." 

Her classroom really is in the basement at the end of the hall. I felt terrible for him. "Oh, Honey! I'm sorry you were so scared. What happened next?"

"The music teacher made me go in her room and sit on the floor with other children."

He goes on to tell me that she wanted him to do the hokey pokey and he told her no, because it made him dizzy. And she must've said something about him not getting a sticker because he told me that he told her he didn't care because he didn't like stickers anyway.

My heart broke. The poor guy. All this scary shit and I'm not there to make him feel safe. Of course the music teacher is not a scary witch luring him into a trap. But I get it, how is he supposed to know that?

I held him tight and promised him that the music teacher was a very, very nice lady and that only nice teachers are allowed in his school and that's why I picked it.

I also promised him that if he ever really needed me, like if he was hurt or sick, the school would call me straight away to get him. 

I called one of my girlfriends who has been at the elementary school with her kids two daughters for the last five years and told her the story. When she was finished laughing hysterically, she told me the music teacher was one of the nicest ladies and that she was retiring in October.

I was honestly relieved when I heard she was retiring. Not because my son won't have to be subjected to the scary lady with the fake hair, but because this poor nice woman won't have to be subjected to an asshole kid telling her she is scary with fake hair! 

That night I let him sleep in my bed and held him close all night. I barely slept. My helicopter mom instincts were telling me to homeschool him. Thankfully, I fell asleep before that nonsense went too far.

Before sending the little guy off to school the next morning, I reminded him that all the teachers were super awesome and that if he truly needed me I would be there.

Even though it is so hard for me to stand back and let my child have these experiences without me, I'm glad he's doing it one way or another. Not to mention, it's nice to not be there when he says crazy stuff because I've been dealing with his filterless mouth for the past five years, and it totally sucks. 

UPDATE: Two days later, the little man jumps off the bus, beaming with excitement and a small sticker on the back of his right hand. 

"Mommy! The music teacher gave me a hug and a sticker. She is nice." 

It's Not Just Your Kid. They All Do That

Recently, while having a conversation with my son's pediatrician, I expressed my concerns about the wild-child being so full of energy, and that I'm convinced I'll have a stress induced heart attack if he stays like that forever. Seriously, the kid NEVER stops!  If his feet aren't moving his mouth is. And, always, he's compiling evil plans to outsmart me, and or, up the danger factor of his next move.

His pediatrician told me in his many years of practice, it never failed the parents with wild children wish they would calm down. Parents with ultra calm children wish they would kick it up a few notches.

Then he said, the reality is that all children are both. Every child, from calm to crazy, has their beautiful moments and beyond frustrating moments. Most of the time, when parents are exhausted from the crazy side of their kid, it's a phase the child is going through testing their independence.

After a bit of thought, I realized, he is so right. When I think about it that way, I go from being positive my kid is going to set a new bar for ADHD, to accepting that he is just a very spirited toddler. And in a way, it's super-awesome.

My wild child has beautiful calm moments. He does slow down. There are beautiful moments, daily. I get to hold him without fail morning and night. Sometimes, even during the day, if only for a few minutes, sometimes longer.

My wild child is beyond sweet as pie and adorable in every way. Sure, he's a go-go-go give-mom-a-heart-attack kind of kid, but there is more to him. But at the same time, I love his energy. Most of the time.

Sure, there's no denying, some kids lean towards being super spirited and some very calm. One of my son's best friends is a super-duper chill calm kid. He is soft spoken and nowhere near as full of energy as Oliver. Still, they play really well together. Even when Ollie's driving full steam towards the playhouse with every intention of crawling over it. His best friend reassuring him, " YEAH!  You Can Do It!" (Not shown, dads running in to rescue the boys from the ensuing dumbassery.)

Still, both have their moments. Both use their manners, surprise us with their selfless acts of kindness and give the best cuddles. Both cross the line and give us hell. Both are individuals and five-years-old at the same time.   Both torture the dog, dig up worms, make us laugh, cry, feel love like no other and of course, embarrass the crap out of us in front of family, friends, and strangers, never missing the chance to run from us AT THE WORST FU*CKING TIME!

But one thing is for sure, both are perfect just the way they are.

Seven Tips For Surviving Cold And Flu Season

Being that we are in the throws of cold and flu season, I thought I would share a few of my best tips for caring for a sick sad face. a.k.a your family and yourself when down and out with the flu. Below you will find my best tips for caring for littles, with facts, studies and recommendations for keeping the entire family healthy year round!

1. Resist the urge to reduce a low grade fever.  It's not a coincidence a fever is usually the first sign illness, especially in children. A fever is the body's first line of defense, and should not be treated when below 102 in children. I know it's hard, but when your child has a low grade fever  (anything below 102F), CTFD (Calm the f#ck Down) and let the fever do its job. Below is a recommendation from the Mayo Clinic on how to treat fevers in children:

Is This Mom Guilt Or Fear Of Change?

After agonizing for months, and a fair amount of encouragement from educators, I decided to put my three-year old in Pre-Kindergarten. Being that I work from home, I went back and forth with whether or not it was really necessary to start him in "school" so early. After all, by law, my son can't start school until he is six. Why push him into school so early?

In then end, I decided to send him to school for the structure, social development and discipline, but only three days a week. While I'm fairly certain the first day of school was harder on me, it turned out to be the very best decision. He got everything I hoped for out of school, and then some!

When we met with his teacher for the first conference, she recommended moving to five days a week. Ollie was learning at a great pace, had loads of fun at school and should I decide to move him to Junior Kindergarten next year, he would be ready for the five day weeks.

Again, I agonized over what was best.

I struggle because I want my kid to be a kid for as long as possible. There is absolutely no need to rush him along.

However.

My darling child is bat-shit crazy, always into something, on a constant quest for knowledge and needs to learn how to share and get along with other children. And, well, his school is only 3.5 hours.

That all being said, I still can't help but feel a sort of tightness in my chest when I think about my son starting school 5-days a week! Play school is one thing, but structured learning five days a week at three years old? Am I doing the right thing? Is my fear of change and my baby growing up causing this anxiety?

It's so hard watching my little guy become a big guy. Between starting school five days a week and turning four, i realize that it's time to get some sort of a grip, because I can't have a panic attack every time my kid reaches a milestone! otherwise, at this rate, I'll need a padded room before he makes it to kindergarten.

I swear, parenting is hard enough, the fact that I compound it with my own insecurities and anxiety is just plain dumbassery.

Finding The Balance Between Nap Time, Rest Time and Screw It...

A few months ago I posted about Ollie showing signs of being ready to drop his nap.  Being that I had heard from multiple parents to expect the nap to go away after Ollie turns three, I was ready for it. Not to mention, that study I posted about saying, After two, naps can spoil sleep. (I called BS on it, and I was right!  Ollie was the exact opposite!)

What I wasn't ready for was the internal struggle over whether or not to let him drop the nap.

At first, I let him go without naps.  Since so many parents told me it would happen, I just went with it. But after just a week of letting nap time go, I noticed that it was making my child a miserrbal brat from 4pm on, and a terrible sleeper at night!  Sure, he went to sleep by 7pm without issue, but he tossed and turned all night, waking at least three or four times.

Rather than force him to take a nap, I tried to make him have "Rest Time" in his room.  He could play quietly in his room for an hour.

This kind of proved to be worthless too.

We went back to taking naps the next week...

For those of you facing the nap transition period, I thought I would outline the difference I see in my child between Naps, Rest Time and  saying, Screw it.  Because, to just make the blanket statement, "children stop having naps after three," is TOTALLY CRAP! Just like with every other big change with your child, you have to find a comfortable balance to make the transition as smooth as possible.

NAPTIME

Ollie is nearly three-and-a-half and still NEEDS his naps. His nap begins after lunch between 12-1pm and lasts about two hours.

He wakes up refreshed and happy. And stays that way until bedtime at 7pm. I try to get him up to the bath by 6:30 but due to he and FTD playing and him getting a little older, I let it slide until 7-7:30. He is asleep by 8:30 every night. Though I shoot for 8pm.

Naps, by far, make for the best day for both Ollie and I.  Sure bed time is a little more difficult, but to have a nice guy all day, and a GREAT sleeper at night, it's worth it. When Ollie has his nap, he sleeps at night from 8pm-7am.

REST TIME

Rest time is that in-between nap and screw it phase. I usually resort to rest time when Ollie is being SUPER difficult about taking his nap. Or, we have had a crazy busy day that kept us out past nap time. I stick him in his room for an hour to play, which he rarely protests, since he is already tired from missing his nap.

Rest time only nets me an early easy bedtime that starts at 7pm. He tosses and turns all night long, and wakes up four or five times crying.

Needless to say, even though the early easy bedtime is awesome, it's not worth the horrible sleep we both get. Rest time is my last resort. Ollie falls asleep around 7:30pm and wakes around 6:30am

SCREW IT

Screw happens on the rare occasion that nap time and rest time are impossible.

No nap or quiet rest time results in a demon toddler. Think: Mean as hell, almost like a Godzilla toddler. He throws toys, temper tantrums, his food and anything he can find to toss at Professor the Cat.

                                               

Being that screw it, results in complete and utter toddler dumbassery, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, my three year old is FAR from not needing a nap.

Bottom Line:  Every child is different, and just because every kid on the street stopped having naps after turning three, doesn't mean your toddler will be the same. And even though I love an easy, early bedtime, it's not worth the last three hours of the day when my toddler melts down, only to toss and turn all night.

Besides, I need his nap time to recoup too, so as long as my child needs a nap, I will give it to him!

The Game Changing Question An Educator Asked Me About My Son

Right after my son turned two, I decided to take him to a 'Mommy's Day Out' program at a nearby church. It turned out to be one of the best things, for both of us! While I was out running errands, he was socializing with other children, doing arts and crafts and learning his numbers, letters and shapes.    

About six-months into Ollie going to the program, the director pulled me aside and asked if I would be opposed to having my son moved up into the three year-old room where there is more structured learning. The director told me that she has been in childhood development for 33-years and in that time a few children like Ollie have passed through her care. She told me son was very bright, and while it was still a little early to say whether or not he was truly "gifted", she was fairly certain he was. Or at the very least, a very bright child with a large capacity for memorization and learning.  

Being a first-time parent, I thought my kid was smart, but I didn't know what exactly "gifted" meant.  Sure, at two and a half, Ollie knew his numbers to 10, alphabet and could also recognize upper-case letters and he knew his shapes and colors.  But, I thought all kids did. 

He LOVES this book. Every night before bed we do a few pages.

It turns out, Ollie was ahead of the curve.

Why I Won't Take One More Second With My Son For Granted...

I have spent the last few days debating whether or not to write this post. Two things have been holding me back.

1. It's horrible for me to relive.
2. It's morbid, and awful, and I try very hard to avoid writing about both things on this blog.

However, I have been profoundly effected by my nightmare, and feel it is my duty to write about it...

A few nights ago, I had the nightmare of nightmares. You know, the one where you're praying in your dream that's it's just a dream, and when you wake up, you nearly breakout in tears when you realize all is Ok, and audibly thank God.

That was me at 3:30am on Sunday morning.

When I woke from my dream to find Ollie laying next to me in my bed, I scooped him up and held him tight, and with tears in my eyes, thanked God he was there next to me.

I'm sorry I can't say anymore, but the nightmare itself is too difficult to think about. Plus, It's not not what I want to tell you about. I want to tell you how the horrible emptiness I felt and the now deeply rooted fear of losing my son is completely changing the way I am parenting him.

Since waking up from that nightmare, I have spent every possible moment paying attention to him, holding him, and telling him I love him. I have a newfound joy in being his mother, and want to make the most out of every single moment I have with him.

Prior to the dream, when he would say, "Hey, mommy, watch this", or, "look at my toy", I would only briefly look up from what I was doing.  I would watch, smile and cheer him on, then go back to what I was doing.  Now, when he asks for my attention, I give it to him. When he wants to watch a TV show, rather then turn it on, and walk away, I put him in my lap and watch the show with him.

My little guy is a true miracle, and the light and joy of my life. He is funny, and smart and talented and silly, and millions of other wonderful things. I sit and marvel at him, and how wonderful he is. I'm so incredibly blessed to be a mother, and to such a wonderful boy.

It's such a shame that it took a horrifying nightmare to get me to take a step back and realize just how blessed I am. Every second I have with my son is a gift. A gift I can no longer consciously take for granted.

I'm sorry to deviate from my normally humors posts, but I just had to tell you about this profound change in the way I approach my blessing of motherhood and beautiful son. While I hate that I had the nightmare, and can still feel the deep pain I felt, I'm thankful that I have this newfound love for being a parent.  I'm thankful that I now enjoy every moment I have with my son. Even the trying ones, because I will happily take toddler terrorizing, over nothing at all.

Please, the next chance you get, hold your child close, whisper, "I love you so much," and cherish that closeness, because without a doubt, it's the greatest blessing of your life.