Monday – Pre-School of Hard Knocks
Nov. 10th, 2008 01:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the conversation I had with my 4-year-old son as I drove him to his day care the other week.
"Where are we going?" I heard him ask from the back seat of the car, as we drove past familiar landmarks that we only pass on his way to school.
"I'm taking you to school, and I have to go to work," I told him.
He let out a yowl of protest. "I don't wanna go to school! School is bad!" he exclaimed in his best anguish-filled voice.
"Why is school bad?" I asked innocently. Since I used to go to school myself, I have a good idea of what is bad about it, but I wanted to hear his arguments.
"Because the teachers are bad!"
"Why are the teachers bad?" I wanted to make sure there weren't any issues that I needed to be made a aware of. While children can exaggerate, I learned as a child and have experience as an adult that certain adults really are jerks. If he could make a good case for himself against a particular teacher, I was willing to look into the matter.
"Because they make me sit in timeout," he said.
"Ah," said, "And why do they make you sit in timeout?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know? Is it because you are being naughty or hitting or biting someone else that you have to sit in timeout?" Or taking off and throwing your shoes across the room in protest, or sitting down in the middle of the floor to demonstrate that you don't want to do what you've been told, or calling someone a pee-pee head? I silently checked off a list of other infractions I know to be in my son's bag of tricks.
"No! They make me sit in timeout because people are fighting with me."
"People are fighting with you? How are they fighting with you?"
"Harrison called me a pee-pee head."
"That wasn't very nice of him. Did you you fight back with him?"
"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. I gathered from the tone of his voice that he felt that fighting back is mandatory in order to hold onto your corner of the playground and not be overrun by little twerps who call you a pee-pee head.
"When someone is fighting with you, you should tell the teacher so she can ask them to stop," I suggested.
The silence from the back seat told me that he thought this was the second stupidest idea he had ever heard in his whole short life, surpassed only by "Why don't you eat some vegetables with your supper?"
I tried again. "Which teachers make you sit in timeout?"
"All of them. They're all bad." At least he's not being singled out by a one teacher with a vendetta. I happen to know a couple of the teachers dote on him, and if they were also making him sit in timeout then there was probably a good reason for it.
"Do you have to sit in timeout all the time, or just some times?"
"Just sometimes," he admitted.
"Do you sit in timeout every day, or just on some days?"
"Just on some days."
"So school isn't bad every day, it's just bad on some days, right?"
He sighed. Even at his tender age, he knows false logic when he hears it. "No, it's bad all the time. I don't like school."
I sighed, too. "I don't like work, baby, but I still have to go. Since I have to go to work, you have to go to school."
I could practically hear the little wheels spinning in his head. I adjusted my rearview mirror so I could glance at his small sulky face as he mulled over the inevitability of it all.
"Oh, all right," he said at last, "But I don't like it."
"I understand," I told him.
And I do, too. I also have to deal with pee-pee heads on a regular basis. I also understand the urge to show shoes at them and call them names, but I've learned that its not a good idea. If he thinks timeout is bad, wait until he grows and has to deal with the people in the Human Resource office when a confrontation with a pee-pee head escalates.
Welcome to the real world, little man. I'm sorry you have to face these issues so soon. If I, your mommy, knew how to make the pee-pee heads and mean teachers behave and back off, I promise I'd let you in on the secret.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
.
.
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about the conversation I had with my 4-year-old son as I drove him to his day care the other week.
"Where are we going?" I heard him ask from the back seat of the car, as we drove past familiar landmarks that we only pass on his way to school.
"I'm taking you to school, and I have to go to work," I told him.
He let out a yowl of protest. "I don't wanna go to school! School is bad!" he exclaimed in his best anguish-filled voice.
"Why is school bad?" I asked innocently. Since I used to go to school myself, I have a good idea of what is bad about it, but I wanted to hear his arguments.
"Because the teachers are bad!"
"Why are the teachers bad?" I wanted to make sure there weren't any issues that I needed to be made a aware of. While children can exaggerate, I learned as a child and have experience as an adult that certain adults really are jerks. If he could make a good case for himself against a particular teacher, I was willing to look into the matter.
"Because they make me sit in timeout," he said.
"Ah," said, "And why do they make you sit in timeout?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know? Is it because you are being naughty or hitting or biting someone else that you have to sit in timeout?" Or taking off and throwing your shoes across the room in protest, or sitting down in the middle of the floor to demonstrate that you don't want to do what you've been told, or calling someone a pee-pee head? I silently checked off a list of other infractions I know to be in my son's bag of tricks.
"No! They make me sit in timeout because people are fighting with me."
"People are fighting with you? How are they fighting with you?"
"Harrison called me a pee-pee head."
"That wasn't very nice of him. Did you you fight back with him?"
"Yes," he admitted grudgingly. I gathered from the tone of his voice that he felt that fighting back is mandatory in order to hold onto your corner of the playground and not be overrun by little twerps who call you a pee-pee head.
"When someone is fighting with you, you should tell the teacher so she can ask them to stop," I suggested.
The silence from the back seat told me that he thought this was the second stupidest idea he had ever heard in his whole short life, surpassed only by "Why don't you eat some vegetables with your supper?"
I tried again. "Which teachers make you sit in timeout?"
"All of them. They're all bad." At least he's not being singled out by a one teacher with a vendetta. I happen to know a couple of the teachers dote on him, and if they were also making him sit in timeout then there was probably a good reason for it.
"Do you have to sit in timeout all the time, or just some times?"
"Just sometimes," he admitted.
"Do you sit in timeout every day, or just on some days?"
"Just on some days."
"So school isn't bad every day, it's just bad on some days, right?"
He sighed. Even at his tender age, he knows false logic when he hears it. "No, it's bad all the time. I don't like school."
I sighed, too. "I don't like work, baby, but I still have to go. Since I have to go to work, you have to go to school."
I could practically hear the little wheels spinning in his head. I adjusted my rearview mirror so I could glance at his small sulky face as he mulled over the inevitability of it all.
"Oh, all right," he said at last, "But I don't like it."
"I understand," I told him.
And I do, too. I also have to deal with pee-pee heads on a regular basis. I also understand the urge to show shoes at them and call them names, but I've learned that its not a good idea. If he thinks timeout is bad, wait until he grows and has to deal with the people in the Human Resource office when a confrontation with a pee-pee head escalates.
Welcome to the real world, little man. I'm sorry you have to face these issues so soon. If I, your mommy, knew how to make the pee-pee heads and mean teachers behave and back off, I promise I'd let you in on the secret.
