Neurotic Mom Speaks Out

Okay...so I simply could NOT take it any longer. The whole hand shaking thing in Clara's class. DRIVING ME NUTS!!! Yesterday, in Clara's bag was the class newsletter. Under the "Powerful Performances" section was this note:

If you visit our class in the morning you would see children greeting each other with a handshake
and saying good morning to their friends. This is part of a responsive classroom approach that I
have introduced to the children. We are learning to be listeners why others talk. The children are
learning about good character traits and how to be tolerant of others diversities.

UUGGGGHHH!!!!!!! So the hand shaking thing. I just want it to stop. Really. Deep down, I don't even want to work with it, I just don't want it to happen. PERIOD. However....life throws us things and we don't always get to have it the way we want it. And so...I realize that she will shake hands. But I absolutely 100% have GOT to know that my baby girl can go and wash her hands when it is all said and done. Nothing against all the other kids. I know that they are precious. And sweet and lovely and come from fine and wonderful, loving, clean homes. But I also know that right now, about 75% of her classmates have rivers of snot pouring out of their precious, sweet noses and a large amount of that snot is undoubtedly being swept away on the backs of the precious little hands. And I just don't think they should be snot swapping. Simple as that. Paranoid...yes. Over reacting...I'm sure. Neurotic control freak here?...ABSOLUTELY! But I am more than willing to admit it and air it out. And so I did today. I e-mailed the teacher and told her that I was simply not comfortable with the whole hand shaking ordeal and why. And that if that was going to be the practice, what I needed to see happening on the hand washing end. I went so far as to tell her that I didn't just want Clara's hands washed, but ALL of their hands washed. I mean...Clara having clean hands would be great...yes! But it doesn't accomplish much when the other 21 kids still have the great snot swap going on and are touching everything in the classroom that Clara also has to touch. (Geez! Listen to me. Sounds like I want my girl in a plastic bubble!....Honestly...if it were an option...and I could put her in a clear, protective, clean air, "you can be there but not have THERE be on her" bubble....well I think I would go for it!) As of yet, I have not gotten a response from the teacher. She is probably sitting there at her desk just a shaking that head of hers and saying things like "There's one totally psychotic and neurotic mom in every bunch!" She's probably put a big flag by my name and made a mental note to avoid all phone calls from me! Hopefully it won't reflect badly on Clara. She's such a sweet and bright and lovely child. Not so much though when she's sick! And so...it had to be done. I could not sleep another night knowing I let this situation go without speaking my mind.

Besides that nagging little handshaking problem, the newsletter was chock full of typos! A pet peeve of mine for sure! The paragraph I typed above is exactly as it was typed in the newsletter. It SHOULD say...

If you VISITED our class in the morning, you would see children greeting each other with a handshake and
saying good morning to their friends. This is part of a responsive classroom approach that I have introduced
to the children. We are learning to be listeners WHILE others talk. The children are learning about good character traits and
how to be tolerant of OTHER'S diversities.

I happen to have a very low tolerance for typos and poor grammar. Especially from those who are charged with teaching such important lessons to my wee ones! There are many more in the newsletter. The part where the students were quoted was just slaughtered with mistakes! YIKES!!!! Again...there's that neurotic streak that just keeps showing itself here lately. I might need some therapy!

Speaking of needing some therapy...I attended the parent's orientation night last night for Max. Armed with a copy of his schedule, I navigated my way through all of his classes, meeting each of his teachers and hearing their expectations for the school year. I could see why he loves his science, math, and social studies teachers. His writing teacher is..............hmmm. Little? Young? As a man, wears more jewelry than I do. He looks about 16. He says he shaves...but I wondered if his shaving was kind of like little girls who insist on wearing those training bras, despite the fact that there is a very real absence of anything to train? Maybe he shaves in hopes that one day there might be something there TO shave? He seems nice enough. I have not collected enough information yet to really have an opinion. His guitar teacher was....interesting. His reading teacher...oddly nervous and I thought a bit boring. Time will tell for sure. She certainly started out with a book they all seem to hate and loathe. I nearly had a heart attack when the writing teacher told me they would be writing a 10,000 word, 40 page novel. Oh dear God...please no! I knew it would come one day. I am just horrified that that time is here upon us. Getting him to write the really short one page papers is an ordeal that requires the patience of Job and constant threats and standing over him. 10,000 words? TEN THOUSAND???????? And he only has 30 days in which to do it! November is the month you should all pray and fast for me. Because I imagine that is sure to be the longest and darkest month of my mothering life to date! My next heart attack of the evening came when the science teacher was pointing out all of the mini research papers that had come in and are due...incidentally...tomorrow. When I asked Max about it? He hasn't even started it. GRRRRRRRRR. That child and I...we are two VERY, very different people. I know of no other way to put it. POLAR OPPOSITES he and I! He is the one who always leaves me just bewildered and frustrated and aggravated and wondering how in the world, this beautiful boy with the gorgeous gray/green eyes and more intelligence than you can begin to fathom...can possibly be so horribly disorganized and distracted and so terribly off task all the time?! Despite showing him over and over and OVER and OVER again how to complete the simplest of tasks...he just doesn't get it. But he does. He just doesn't seem to execute it. Ever. Sometimes I think I would just love to know exactly what is going on in that little head of his. What is it that makes him pace back and forth so when he talks to you and is excited? What is it that gets his thought processes so off task? How is that he can absorb difficult mathematical concepts instantly and effortlessly, yet cannot remember to put on his deodorant each day? Mostly, I wonder what in the world God is trying to teach ME by giving me this young man? There must be many great lessons in this adventure for sure. That, or God has a wild and evil sense of humor. Well....that is to ponder another day. A question that simply will not be solved quickly...or simply!

And so...there are my neurotic wanderings and rantings for the day! Time to treadmill bond! Till later!