A Study in Logic and Denial

Jax is officially a 3-yr old preschool child. A “big kid”. No longer a cuddly baby. Or cute toddler. He is 3. Years. Old.

He has opinions and he shares them…vehemently sometimes.

He is loud. I swear I think he’s the loudest kid in his school. Purposely.

He roars. You should check out his T-Rex impersonation.

He picks his boogers.

And sometimes, yes…he eats them.

He is a preschooler on fire. Vibrant and full of life.

And unfortunately, at this moment, a bit of a follower.

I think of Jax as being a leader. The one others will flock to because he lets you know of his existence the moment you meet him.  And I’m sure in some way part of the reason I think of him in this manner is because I WANT him to be a leader. But, I guess even would-be-leaders have to follow others at some points in time. 

I got my first call from Jax’s teacher a few weeks ago. The call started with, “We can’t always protect our children.” How’s that for an opening statement? My heart was beating wildly, my mind flying through all the possible horrors that could have befallen my monkey. She then proceeded to let me know of 3-year-old-style deviant behavior Jax was currently pursuing. Name-calling. Talking. Pushing. Not the life-threatening horrors I was picturing [Thank goodness!], but not exactly good either.

The first two sounded like my monkey. I got it. I understood. But the pushing? That didn’t sound like him at all. Surely that’s not my kid [I thought it, but didn’t say it.]. All this coupled with the fact that another child—older, charismatic—was influencing (negatively, mind you) my monkey. Part of me was relieved that it wasn’t internally produced—this deviance. And part of me was upset that he had chosen to follow someone else...to the dark side. And no, there are no cookies there. I don’t care what the common rabble think. At least not any good ones.

After a “stern talking to”, and an apology note “written”, off to school we went. Good, positive choices were made that day and a few more immediately following. But then came the disruptions and the name calling again. At this point, I’m thinking why is this happening now? And what are we going to do about it? You don’t want to make such a big deal about something that may not be a big deal in the long run. But you also want to let them know that certain things are unacceptable. It is our job as parents to ensure that we are raising responsible, kind people. They are the ones inheriting the world from us after all.

And then, I find out he missed both of his recesses on one of these “deviant days”. The first for reported name-calling and the second for disrupting circle time. I agree with consequences but he didn’t even know what the consequences were for when I talked to him. And that defeats the whole purpose of the consequence. I also feel like missing TWO opportunities for outside play in one day for things that are not exactly the “worst” is kind of excessive. Is there not any middle ground? Is there not the possibility of separating my monkey from the silver-tongued offender? He can’t make the right choice when faced with something that seems more fun and intriguing at the moment. It’s simply not fair. He needs some help in that area. He’s only 3.

And what makes it hard is that I’m seeing it from the viewpoint of not only a parent, but also the teacher. I understand the difficulties that can arise from too much disruption in the classroom. Geez, I deal with it on a daily basis from my middle school students. One kid gets off-track and it starts a chain reaction. If you can’t block it before it goes too far, the whole class is in uproarious laughter and talking in ridiculously loud voices and there you are standing at the front of the room, pissed off with your hands on your hips…and nothing nice to say. Not a good place to be when it’s only the 2^nd class of the day.

And I definitely understand the difficulty of working with a stubborn pre-school child.  Especially a cute red head like Jax. He’s mine. I get it. But…he’s MINE.  I don’t want him getting into trouble and being a troublemaker.

I want him cute.

And sweet.

And perfect.

I know. It’s logically impossible. No one’s perfect. You live and learn. Making mistakes. Crossing boundaries. Breaking hearts. It’s the experiences we have that make us who we are and make us better able to handle the different situations and people we will encounter throughout our lives.

It’s just that I don’t want him to be one of THOSE kids.

I don’t want to get the constant calls home about his disruptions or about how he isn’t trying hard enough and not living up to his potential. I don’t want to hear about Jax doing some of the things that I see and hear about kids doing. Kids who seek to constantly push the line. I know he’s going to do it. We all do. I just want him to rebel with a modicum of sensibility. And I guess…to be honest, I just don’t want to be disappointed in him.

I know, I know.

Logically impossible.