I have a love/hate relationship with the telephone. OK, really it's more of a hate/hate relationship. I'd rather just send an email, thanks. But seriously...the phone woke me up again this morning. I gazed bleary eyed at the caller ID and saw the word "school" so I immediately answered. We've been exchanging emails with Tyler's teacher a lot, lately. His grades have slipped since his regular teacher returned from maternity leave. I'd heard from other Mom's that she was pretty tough and didn't tolerate nonsense in her classroom. Since Tyler is about 80% nonsense, we figured we were in for a bumpy ride.
Ty responds better to a gentle touch and easy-going spirit. He gets super defensive when anyone in authority gets confrontational with him. He is all about truth and fair play. Don't blame him for something he doesn't think is his fault or he will totally shut down on you. Especially if you yell. He will do what you ask, as long as you are specific about HOW and how long he has to finish. He needs a bit of flexibility and clear directions. Stern and strict really rubs him the wrong way. Yeah. I don't see a military career any time in his future. :)
But I digress...again. I assumed the call was about Tyler. Nope! This time is was Max's school calling. His teacher wants to meet with us tomorrow about some "concerns" she has. Oh boy. John and I brainstormed back and forth this afternoon about what THIS is about. Maybe Max has been showing off his wide array of potty mouth phrases he learned from his big brother. Not swears! Things like "Well, you are a big poop head! Oh yeah? Well, I just threw pee and poop in your face!" and so on. *cringe* I know. Typical of just about any just turned 9 boy. Not so much the sweet little just turned 4 year olds.
Or maybe it's Max's abundance of energy. I don't think he's bouncing off the walls at school...but who knows. His lack of snow clothes? His teacher sent home a notice a couple weeks ago asking us to send in snow pants, boots, gloves, hat, mittens, etc. so the kids could play in the snow at recess. Cool! But...Max only has one pair of snow pants with matching thermal mittens. And only one pair of snow boots. I can't leave his gear at school. He wants to play in the snow at home too. And I can't send them to school if they are wet. We can't afford another set of gear just for 20 minutes of fun at pre-K a couple times a week.
Maybe it's not that. He's got the same speech thing Tyler had at his age. Can't say his "th" and "sh" sounds. And when he says "funky" it sounds like...well...never mind. But it seems a little soon for speech therapy. Most kids have that lispy thing at this age. So, maybe not. Is it his alphabet? He can sing his letters, no prob. But he can't read them all just yet. Tyler was into Alphabet books at this age and had his letters down cold. Max prefers books about hugs and kisses from cuddly animals or books about kids who stall their bedtime.
I know we should just stop speculating and wait until tomorrow, but this kind of thing totally freaks me out. We already have a meeting with Tyler's teacher set for next week. Now Max's teacher too?! I wasn't prepared for that. Max is such a sweetie. Cooperative, helpful, up beat, affectionate...what could it be?! *sigh*
I could use some prayers/lucky vibes that it's nothing serious. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts.
Now, if I could just figure out what the HECK that dream was about. I was having it when the phone rang this morning. I was visiting with a former boss. He was boxing up his office. He was being forced to retire and wasn't happy about it. I was sympathetic and had some brilliant insights. Something about having an office with a door instead of a cubicle and the impermanence of a cube. How his grand kids could see where Grandpa used to work... but here's the thing. This boss was Kelsey Grammer. Yeah, the actor. No, I never worked for him in reality.
His office building entrance opened into a broad atrium that then connected to a swanky mall. I walked across into the mall, around a large water feature, and into a VERY long line for ice cream. In the line with me was my Great Aunt Evie and Grandma Madelyn. They've been dead for many years but I still think about them often. Super great ladies. They were babysitting a little girl around 3 years old. My little girl. At one point, she took a toy truck and drove it into the water feature. Then walked in after it. The water was over her head, so I reached in and grabbed her by the head to lift her out of the water. She smiled at me...no crying or coughing. It was obvious she was completely unaffected by the water. I remember thinking in the dream "but I don't have a little girl. I have 2 boys."
People were cutting the line and making me angry. When it was our turn for ice cream, my little girl wanted vanilla with this crazy hodge-podge of mix-ins. I was a little worried about her age and the dangers of frozen gummi-bears. Then I asked for the same mix-ins with chocolate ice cream. The girl gave me this tiny tiny little cup thing - is was like a plastic ball, slightly squashed with a circular opening. It was called a "licker" cup. I was really annoyed by how little ice cream was in it and how expensive it was. Plus frozen gummi-bears really ARE gross.
Oh yes, and my great aunt was wearing this sailor style suit with a hat just like the Stay Puff'd marshmallow man. Navy blue and white. Someone in line made a snide comment like "ahoy sailor" and saluted her. I shot him a dirty look.
So you can see how confused and muddled I was when I answered the phone. What on earth did THAT mean. LOL