Confidence Man

You might think, from this picture, that Alex dressed himself for school today. You would be right. While I was in the shower and Art was making breakfast, Alex ransacked his dresser drawers until he found this hand-me-down Clemson jersey. We even had words about my requirement that he wear a t-shirt underneath it. Art cut that one off at the pass by mentioning that football players wear t-shirts (and shoulder pads) under their jerseys. A light appeared in Alex's eyes. "Mom, do you have any shoulder pads I can borrow?" No! I had this horrible vision of the damage he'd do, barreling down the halls of the elementary school, mowing down any haplessly slow pedestrians.

Some days I wish I had half the confidence Alex has almost all of the time. He's had a couple of rough days this week. Tuesday I got a phone call from the assistant principal. You just know this is not going to be a friendly call. (Note to school: why can't you make daily random phone calls to parents just to tell them how well their kid behaved that day?) With a heavy heart I picked up the line that Kitty transferred to me. On the up side, I got to chat with the assistant principal. She and I had never talked before, I usually speak to the principal.

Apparently in the line to leave the classroom for the day, there was an eye-poking incident. Doesn't that sound horrible? The other boy was crying and had to go to the nurse to be looked at before he left. I wanted to hide under my desk. It's a big L-shaped desk and I'm pretty sure I could be comfortable in the back corner for a while, especially with provisions, and maybe a TV. Since school was already out, Alex was sent on to After School Care with a warning from the assistant principal. I didn't have to come get him early, I just needed to discuss things with him.

When I walked in the school to get him, the college student at the desk told me Alex didn't get a star for something that had happened that afternoon. "What the heck did he do now?!" Turns out that they had also intervened in the eye-poking situation, so at least there was only one black mark on his file for the day. Alex came walking up the hall, and when he saw me he threw his hands up in surrender (at least I like to think that's what it was), and said, "I can explain!" His side of the story included a demonstration of a Robert DeNiro/Meet the Parents-style "I'm watching you" motion with his fingers in a V. Add to that two bouncing little boys ready for dismissal and the poor kid got a finger to the eye. Mind you, I am not excusing Alex in this scenario. But I was terribly grateful that it seemed to be an accident. A boneheaded, unfortunate accident. Alex lost privileges for a few days and got a stern warning from both parents. He has apologized to the other child, several times. Here are the reasons I think he is telling the truth about it being an accident:

1) The other child - I've never heard Alex express dislike or animosity towards him. They seem to play well together and Alex's teacher says the boy is also energetic. 2) "I can explain" - I'm pretty sure if it wasn't an accident, I would have been greeted with tears and a litany of the horrors that Alex had suffered before the final straw and poking.
3) The demonstration he gave where he acted out the whole situation. It seemed reasonable. I'm a little concerned about his depth perception, though.

So, yesterday, we set off to school. Audio from the ride to school:

children's music on the radio
"Keep your hands to yourself today!"
"OK."
"Calm down."
"OK."
"Don't be wild."
"OK."
more music

The assistant principal kept him in from recess for the day as punishment. I think he handled it well. He made it through the entire day until I showed up to get him. Of course.

I signed him out at the desk. As I looked up the hall one of the minders was talking intensely to Alex, Augustus and a boy a year older than them. Alex was red-faced and shedding a few tears. Now, this, THIS was a situation where he shared some blame. I could tell that from 20 yards. What I pieced together then and over the next hour, using my new found skills as an Inquisition interrogator, was that this was a continuation of a disagreement that began earlier in the game room. The other boy went to the same preschool as Alex and Augustus and there had been some difficulty when they were younger. He's a big, rambunctious kid and the younger ones didn't like to play with him.

So, Alex finds himself across the table from the boy while they were playing with Legos, board games, something that's supposed to be fairly innocuous. And for no reason at all, just something eating at Alex found its way out of his mouth, "I don't like you!" No justification whatsoever. The other boy grabs him and won't let go until Alex hit and kicked him. The teachers saw it all, and separated them, sending the older boy out of the room. Which seemed to help, until they called Alex to the front when I got there. Of course, he intercepts the boy in the hallway. No adults saw what happened, and Alex refused to make a statement at the time. I made sure the boy was okay and took Alex outside.

Thus began the third degree. By the time we got home Alex professed no memory of the events in the hallway. "I can't remember!" I told him if he couldn't remember what happened 20 minutes ago, we were headed to the pediatrician tomorrow to get a detailed examination to see what was the matter. (Sorry, Dr. Draisen, I was desperate.) What he finally admitted was that when he saw the boy in the hall, he repeated his feelings about him, and blows were exchanged. Not sure who landed the first one or if either of them were solid or not. They keep the kids under tight supervision so they were seen before anything else happened. Which led to the object lessons (and lecture) for the evening.

Here goes: There are people out there that we don't like. This does not mean that we have to tell them that, especially to their face, for no reason. We have to work with others even if we don't want to do so. Also, just because it pops into our head, it does not mean it has to come out of our mouth. I went on in this vein for some time.

I'm not sure if it helped but we did see the kid this afternoon when I picked Alex up and there was a "cut direct," Alex acted like he didn't see him, and he sure didn't say anything to him. Probably not the best reaction, but I'll take it over "I don't like you" and fisticuffs any day.

It's almost the weekend. Tomorrow is Friday, thank goodness. Maybe spring fever will die down and spring break will cure some of the wildness running through the school halls. I'm looking forward to Saturday morning. Four of us are going to downtown Greenville for a photo scavenger hunt. It's a benefit for Let There Be Mom, a great organization that helps terminally ill mothers make mementos like scrapbooks, videos, etc., for their families. I hope it doesn't rain. We are a slacker team and certainly not all-weather. When I told Alex that I would be out with some friends for the morning, he said, "You have FRIENDS?" Sigh.