Just a Little Too Comfortable. Now Listen…
It’s official. I’m “that mom.”
Since the muppets have transitioned into the new Tiny Twos class, they now receive a daily report briefly detailing their progress. Yesterday’s summary read as follows:
“Destroy is becoming a bit too comfortable with me. He needs to learn listening is important.”
WTF does that mean?
Jon was on pickup duty. And he did not ask enough questions to satiate my curiosity. (The four hours of sleep he’s been averaging likely didn’t trigger neurons to seek out in-depth child-rearing conversations.)
So today I called the school to ask for additional details and clarification. With each number dialed the blog potential of this educational adventure increased.
I. Am. That. Mom.
It runs in the family. My aunt was banned from entering my cousin’s middle-school campus without an escort. (She ruffled some institutional feathers there. And I’m sure this was in no way related to her being an elementary teacher for the same district. Yeah. That happened.)
But back to the cryptic Tiny Two report.
“Learn to listen? He’s two! His sole purpose in life is to be ornery. And even if he did listen, I make no guarantees the kid understands English yet. (He presently speaks toddler. It’s totally not the same.) Not to mention it’s presently a victory just to convince the kid to keep his pants on every morning.
“Too comfortable?” Isn’t comfortable a good thing at the place they’re spending a 40-hour week? Oh my god. Did he goose the teacher? Did he grab her boobs? (I mean, the boys never breast-fed, so it’s not like they’d have an unhealthy interest in lunch. Boob-wise, I mean.) However, he does occasionally try to pull up shirts to point out BELLY BUTTON!
See – this is why I need clarification.
I wasn’t defensive. I like to think I was very nice about it, simply requesting the info so we could have a better idea of what we should be working on at home. Don’t make me play the preemie card if the behavior you want is outside their developmental age.
As it turns out, the honeymoon period is over. Destroy has conferred with his brother and the two have scoped out their new digs. He is now testing his boundaries. Literally in some instances, as he makes unscheduled breaks toward the sandbox after hand washing time before snacks.
(Part of me visualizes this with his arms outstretched behind him. Running faster and faster and FASTER before rolling into a little ball to take out anyone else on the playground – like Sonic the Hedgehog. But I digress…)
Namely throwing toys. (And, trust me on this, the kid can HURL).
Also, his new (for now) friend has a thing for organizing his toys – stacking them and lining them up. You’ll never believe who takes great pleasure in swooping in to rain destruction upon the neatness.
What? Destroy living up to his namesake? (I pointed this out to his teacher. She laughed politely.)
In short, he’s two.