Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Kindergarten Drop Out

When Colin started kindergarten 4 years ago, I though for sure nothing could be worse than dropping him off every morning.  Not because it made me sad; I'm not that kind of mom. Sending Colin to Kindergarten was hard because he puked at least once every morning.  If he didn't puke in the driveway or in my car, I had to sit by the phone and wait for the nurse to call me and tell me he puked somewhere in the Kindergarten hall.  Each morning, I'd ask her the same two questions: is he running a fever and has he puked more than once?  If the answer to both questions was no, I would instruct her to send him back to class and go on with my day.  This lasted for what felt like forever before he finally got over it.  

It's four years later, and Colin is now a model student, who all the teachers love, and I am once again in Kindergarten Mommy hell.  This time makes Colin's experience feel like a trip to Disneyworld, in the off season, without any lines, that I didn't have to pay for.

To stay Tyler is strong willed is like saying a tiger is a little bit bigger than a house cat.  Under the right circumstances the child can outwit, outplay, and outlast anyone.  Early in the summer he decided that he didn't want to go to Kindergarten, and he has steadfastly maintained this opinion all summer long.

I knew I was in trouble when he refused to acknowledge his teacher's existence on orientation day.  I even warned her that he might be one of her tougher students in the beginning.  

When I dropped him off the first day, I left him screaming bloody murder and hoped that he would calm down quickly and enjoy the rest of his day.  I went home and waited by the phone, and when it didn't ring by 10:00 am, I convinced myself that everything was going fine.  I picked him up that afternoon, and he assured me that he'd had a fabulous day.  Everything was right with my world until he discovered that he'd forgotten his lunch box, and he insisted that we go back to get it.  When we walked into his classroom, his teacher looked at me and said, "Oh, I'm so glad you're here.  We need to have a little chat."  In that moment, I was the captain of the Titanic and my ship had just collided with the iceberg.  We were sinking, and I knew there was nothing I could do about it.

Turns out my child had had a small nervous breakdown and ran around the classroom and up and down the hallways at some point during the day.  In Tyler's defense, he's had a hard time lately.  He's had to wear his funeral suit one to many times this year and his Daddy was in a car accident that was a complete game changer for our family.  I knew that he might have a hard time adjusting to Kindergarten, but I never expected him to try to actually physically leave the building.  

His teacher is fantastic and just wants him to succeed.  We formulated a plan, and I went home that day hopeful that things were going to turn around.

Yesterday was his 10th day of school and probably his worst.  The day started out awful and quickly progressed to horrific.  Tyler is completely committed to being a Kindergarten drop out.  When I wake him up in the morning, I physically have to pick him up and stand him on his feet.  He is so committed to being completely unhelpful, that every time I stand him on his feet, he promptly crumples to the ground.  I then wrestle him into his clothes, attempt to feed him breakfast, and buckle him in the car.  Yesterday my van windows were foggy, so I paused in the driveway long enough for them to clear up.  While I was waiting, I heard a car seat unbuckle, a door open, and I watched in horror as my child ran back into the house.  I put the car in park and ran in to retrieve him.  I drug him back out to the car kicking and screaming and once again buckled him.  Not one to repeat the same mistakes twice, I locked the doors and began backing up.  Moments later a shoe collided with my head.  While I was attempting to figure out what had just happened, my child climbed into the front seat, unlocked the doors, and ran into the house a second time.  Once again I retrieved him, and this time I sped down the driveway so quickly that he couldn't jump out without seriously injuring himself.  We finally made it to school, and I wrestled him out of the car and handed him to to teacher, who carried him like a baby to his classroom.  

When I picked him up later, his teacher told me he stood at the door and screamed all morning.  

I have officially had enough.  I have called upon every school resource available, and last night I stripped Tyler of the one thing that means the most to him, his motorcycle.  I even went as far as to plan a trip to his favorite motocross track on Sunday that he will only be allowed to participate in if he has three perfect days at school.  I am tired of doing the mommy walk of shame every afternoon as I walk down the Kindergarten hallway to see what heinous act he has committed that day in an attempt to get kicked out.  This is full out war now and mark my words, I'm going to be the last one standing!


  1. Keep your head up. Forge on and all that stuff its a war worth wining.