No Bon-Bons For YOU!

Well I got me one of those comments again. Why do some parents think it’s ok to comment on your child in a negative light? Does it make them feel better about themselves as a parent to put down your child and therefore you? Then I think, well maybe I’m just taking it the wrong way. Maybe it was meant to help. Problem is that the other parents have no way of knowing that I’ve heard comments and been “helped” since the child was born.

True story – after an unplanned C-section (I have one of those childbirth stories that some women love to tell pregnant women and send them running in horror. I try to refrain.), I lay alone in the recovery room with my brand new baby (hubby had gone to eat – it had been a loooong time – still not sharing details though) when I heard the mother and grandmother in the next curtain comment, “She’s gonna have a hard time with that young’un.” They then continued to discuss what a good baby they had. Suddenly I had been thrust into the good kid/bad kid lottery and I obviously had lost.

When I wrote the essay, “ADHD and Me: It’s All About the Bon-Bons”, I barely touched on the comments I’ve received. I mentioned one school administrator, but there is more…much more. I’ve had teachers complain to me about behaviors which are such classic ADHD signs, I wonder if they bothered to read the emails where I discussed his umm, ADHD or listened when I spoke directly to them. Perhaps they were having ahem, focus issues. I know teachers and administrators are overburdened, but I’m trying to be one of those communicative parents they say they want without flying my Harrier to hover over (the helicopter does not have enough power, sorry). It would help if they listened to my communications, without feeling the need to fire a surface to air missile at my parenting. I had a teacher tell me how irritating she found his inability to be completely prepared and not be the last one walking out of the class every single time they went somewhere. She then proceeded to ask me if that drove me crazy and comment about how she wouldn’t be able to handle it at home, and thank goodness her little preciouses weren’t like my son. A little painful you think… how about the fact that she did this, IN FRONT OF SEVERAL OTHER MOTHERS, when I was at the school volunteering. Now we all know that only a truly lousy Mom gives up her day of eating bon-bons for sitting at some school taking care of a bunch of kids (and there was only one that I went through that horrific childbirth with.) Yeah, that felt great! Still love that one.  For every great, understanding helpful teacher…there’s been, well, the you name ‘em type.

But the comments that always wound the deepest are the ones from the other parents. I’m just as involved as you are. I try to help my child and guide my child just as you do. But it doesn’t work the same way with a kid with ADHD. How about a little compassion, empathy, kindness or if that fails… just shut the he!! up. You think my kid is excessively shy because I’ve made him that way. Did it ever occur to you that the kid can hear? That maybe through all these years he’s heard your little comments so he just doesn’t try? To his credit he assures me that he really doesn’t care what you think. To my discredit, I do. So if you don’t know what you are talking about, please just go buy some bon-bons and eat them. But you won’t be getting any from me. And please, am I the only one who has the different kid and has to constantly hear about it? What are your experiences? Where can I get a volume discount on my bon-bons?

Perfect Attendance - Sure, Let's Start a Pandemic

True confession time - I despise going to the awards ceremony. Oh, it was fun the first six times - when they were little and so cute and everybody's kids got some sort of award. But as the years wore on and more and more kids started falling by the wayside (mine included sometimes) and the cliquish mommies and their entourages appeared, I'd almost rather have a failed epidural again (long, long story there). Hubby can hardly ever come (I am expecting him at their high school graduation. I hear it's not during the daytime, aka work hours.) so I am there alone. I confess I am jealous of the entourages. Our families are too old, too sick and too far away and I miss getting to share my children with them.

In the back of my mind I had sorta blown off going this year. I didn't know of any awards mine were receiving, but last night at Scouts I found out that the eighth grader will have a "commencement" ceremony. Well, duh, of course he would. Didn't even think about it. So I asked my son, and he confirmed it...but he couldn't remember the details. C'mon people, a little help here. You're expecting hormonal teens to tell us all the appropriate details?? So I guess I'm going. In typical fashion, I will look for something to amuse me. Fortunately it doesn't take much and I do have a favorite story - here goes:

Of all the awards handed out, there is one award that crawls up my skin like a tick. The Perfect Attendance Award. Every year, I've watched kids get praised for not missing school and every year, I've thought, "Goodness, how can this happen?" My kids can catch something by being within 20 miles of you and your sneeze and somehow these kids can do it, no problem. Maybe your kid has had a great illness free year, but there's a good shot that one of those kids came to school sick and passed it through our house. So one year as I sat there thinking back on just how many days our sons were out during flu season, a child is called up on the stage for his award. He walked up being applauded and cheered on, and...threw up on the stage and on the principal's shoes. I think he might shoulda stayed home, umm, sick, that day? I still remember the faint ripple of giggles which I can only believe were the other Moms who had spent days taking care of their sick ones. We weren't laughing at the child, but at the circumstance. Can we maybe consider not applauding perfect attendance? I know we want kids to attend school...but really sick is sick. How 'bout it?

Mary’s Un-Merry Month of May

By Mary Alford-Carman

Oh heaven help me get through this month with all my hair still attached to my head and without that pesky twitch in my eye. It's the last full month of school and I can't wait for it to be over. The gear-up in August is bad enough with supply lists that are never given when the tax free weekend arrives, the hunt for school clothes and the open house/meet and greet the teachers evening. May, however, makes me want to run to the local church, light a bazillion candles and beg for mercy.

The End of Grade tests come first with the wonderful school note that states your child should get a good night's rest and eat a proper breakfast prior to testing days. I guess the rest of the school year it doesn't really matter how late they go to bed or if you feed your children at all. After the End of Grade tests come the End of Course tests. What is this, college? Then there is the spring concert, the eighth grade dance, the awards/graduation ceremony and field day. The letters for volunteers triple in May. Can you proctor for the tests, make brownies for the dance, and could you chaperone for the field day and dance? With a thirteen-year-old daughter, the hunt for a dance dress is turning into a quest for some ideal I'm not sure exists. Then there is the uniform for the band. Have you tried to find black pants in May?

When I look around at the other moms in the car pool lane, they all have the same glazed look on their faces. List after list, permission slip after permission slip and fee after fee, fly back and forth from school, to home, and back to school, like birds on cocaine. It's almost as if the schools have made May "Mommy Challenge Month". Can you do all you normally do and add this in too? It's scary out there and you know something is gonna plop down on you if you don't keep it together. If I lose my calendar, I'll be lost and heading for the padded cell.

It goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that I love my child and I'll do what is necessary to make sure she has what she needs. I just wish it didn't hurdle towards me like an out of control whirling dervish all within one month. There are only a few days left before the month is over. I think I'll head to the church now.
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