Monkey Boy having an aversion to school again. Well, technically his teacher, so our walk to school culminated in both of us in tears by the time we hit the school gate.
Me from sheer frustration about the entire situation, him because I’m now at the point of begging him to just not give her anything which with to pin on him. Which is damned near impossible when she is pinning just about everything on him …
(Someone, methinks, needs to put her big girl knickers on and deal with this shit. I don’t want that person to be me, but given the teacher seems to be getting worse, it looks like it’s gonna have to be … *sigh*)
I pullled him out of class at the start, had big cuddles till we both calmed down and wandered home to get ready for a much needed and much looked forward to lunch with a friend. Anticipating, the entire time, an phone call from the school – and probably the teacher – to come collect Monkey Boy, or to explain his unacceptable behaviour and how I must do something to curb this serial killer in the making.
Because, apparently, I’m a crap parent and she’s alluded to this a number of times. Also, she is not a parent.
I’ll shut up about that now. I was not disappointed and a phone call from the school was received.
I put on my Bored Voice and made numerous attempts to distract from taking the conversation from where it was so inevitably headed.
Until the School Office Lady mentioned Godzilla’s name and “needs to be picked up straight away” and “not well”.
My one afternoon I go and do something social and have a life and have FUN and it’s taken from me. Also, Godzilla was perfectly ok this morning, bouncing around ok, so I had myself a second serve of cooked-for-me kangaroo salad and head off back to school.
Godzilla was very not well. Whoops.
Collect both children, Godzilla due to unwellness and Monkey Boy due to my fear for his emotional and mental safety, and so I didn’t have to make a second trip to school or rely on him to Come Straight Home and not Hang Around Playing With Friends after school and leave me stressing that he was dead or abducted … I grumble to the car at the thought of my afternoon’s plans vanishing in the blink of a Phone Call From School and then I remember …
It is Thursday, so swimming lessons abound. Usually, Grumpy does them, but he is working. I am no longer likely able to coordinate swimming lessons with a sick eight year old … so, Monkey Boy gets treated to building bridges and train tracks for his youngest sibling and I actually get some work done.
I do love it when your plans all go to shit, and then whatever the opposite of shit is … 🙂