Haiku Friday: Harrumph

Apparently DuckyBoy is doing great at summer camp. He's (fairly) upbeat about getting on the bus, where his friend is riding for the summer who usually goes by car during the school year. Not that I dare call him a "friend" because then DB will be sure to rebuke me: "He's not my BEST friend!"

Anyway. No one bothered to tell us moms that the kids are arriving half an hour late ... meaning DB and his friend are on the bus for just about an hour and a half each morning!! And they miss the "social activities worksheets" the kids do over breakfast. Of all the things to miss!!

But his teacher says he's been great so far. Which is good, because as soon as he sees me he turns into Drama King, unless he's in the pool or I am doing exactly what he wants me to do.

Which I am Not.Doing.Any.More.

Can you tell I am a bit p.o.'d at DB tonight?? We went to the (half an hour from nowhere near anywhere we ever go otherwise) dentist today and he screamed, fought, cried, and screamed some more when they tried to clean, just clean, his teeth. I'm spitting mad at him and he knows it. There was no mask, no laughing gas, and he's had a cleaning at least twice. But no. Apparently his new schtick for the dentist office is to freak out. He'd better not repeat that shtick on Monday when we go back for the cleaning! The dentist did get him to let her count his teeth, and she promised that's all she'd do and kept her word.

Did I mention they're a half an hour from nowhere??

Don't worry, he's been reassured that he is loved, and always will be, but he had no TV and fell asleep on the couch during our Bible study tonight. "I'm having trouble enjoying this relaxation time without tv," he moaned at one point. I told him his choices were to try, or go to sleep.

Can we tell a story? Um, no. I was honest with him -- I'm too mad at you, I said. Can I help you find a Lego part? Um, no. (I did help him download a pattern.)

I don't care that it's been like, 1,000 degrees here in NYC the last few days. I don't care that he's probably worried about 3rd grade and certainly reacting to the end of 2nd grade.

He's got to reason to be the way he's been toward me. The things he says range from mean to demanding to rude. I'm totally sick of it.

So mad at my son
and yet I love him so much --
my heart breaks in two.

Sigh. That's the best I can do today. I look forward to reading everyone else's haiku to pull me out of this funk! (And guess what? NO school-camp on Fridays, so we're stuck with each other all day! As of tonight my plan is: I'm going to get a bikini wax, a pedicure, and grocery shop. I also may need to criss cross Queens looking for 16-oz iced-coffee cups with lids. (Who knew they'd be so elusive?) Any other ideas, besides driving past every playground with a cackle?? Humph.

Please, do better than me! Link to your haiku post below, and leave a comment, too, unless you'd rather kick and scream for me...

Prayer for a School Day

God of all creation,
I ask that you be with DuckyBoy today,
comfort and guide him,
support and uplift him
wherever he is --
on the bus, in class,
in concert practice,
everywhere.

May he feel your love,
be filled with a sense of abundance,
and be moved to share his many blessings
with those around him.

Amen.

Bus Dream

I had a dream last night about DB's bus. I was undecided about whether to tell him about it -- and then, oddly enough, on our way downstairs this morning he asked me to tell him my dreams. So I told him about it:

Last night I dreamt your bus was like a dune buggy. It was open in the back except for rollbars -- one across the front and back of the passenger section, and then one long one down the center (so it formed like a capital letter "I" from the front to back of the bus).

It was yellow like a school bus and about the same size your bus is now (a minibus). Those details were in response to his questions -- "Was it red?" "Was it a 2-seater?"

The front section had both driver and passenger seats, like a dune buggy, but was open like a jeep.

There was a substitute driver, not the usual guy, who was playing music so loud that the guy was wearing big headphones to muffle the sound (either that, or he was listening to the music through those headphones and it was still so loud if was deafening).

"Did the kids have headphones too?" DB asked me. No, they didn't and there was no way I was going to put DB on that bus with that loud music, and I was baffled as to why anyone else did! His old classmate A. and the kindergartener who actually does sit in front of him on the bus now were in the bus's seats when it pulled up.

I was trying to decide whether to get those kids off the bus and drive them myself as I walked, holding DB's hand, out to the bus to tell the guy I was going to drive DB today.

DB was distracted by a parked car and pulling me to the side of the street, so I had to pull him back toward the bus to finish speaking to the driver.

The driver just nodded when I said I'd be driving DB, then pulled away with the other kids on it. I was left wondering how the police could find the bus if I called them. Or whether it was even the police I should call, or the school? OPT?And then I either woke up or the dream was over.

Ya think I still have some bus anxiety?

Pickles and Honey and Bumps on the Head

Db hit his head on a tow truck Friday afternoon.

How is THAT possible, you ask? OK, picture this:

It's raining hard. He's wearing his oversize Mets jacket with the hood up. He's still got his patch on. (That reminds me, I forgot his patch this morning. Don't care.) He's not really looking where he's going.

The tow truck was parked at the corner. The iron cross bar sticks out at a 45-degree angle at a height of, I now know, about 42 inches.

I had crossed the street ahead of him (it's a quiet street) and was encouraging him to come along and stop looking at whatever he was looking at. His body moved before his head turned and

****W-H-A-M!*****

The first thing he said after he stopped crying was, "Will it be better when I'm a grownup?" Later he said something about "the truck that broke my forehead."

Poor guy.

Needless to say, he wasn't too interested in doing gymnastics after that.

We went inside anyway, mainly because it was pouring rain, and he watched part of the class and played with his friend P (whose sisters take that class) for a bit, then we left.

He didn't black out, he never took that long-nap they warn you about following head injury, yet... I still worry.

I grew up with the mindset of, "If it's not life-threating, there's no reason to go to the doctor." So I'm not the type to drag him to the pediatrician when there's probably nothing they can do.

But I wonder -- because, oddly enough, he was Really Good all weekend. Doesn't that qualify as an uncharacteristic behavior change?

Now, he may have been really good due it it being Birthday Party day (Saturday) and Sunday he had lots of new stimulation from all his new presents. Very possible.

But we also took him to Pickle Day on the Lower East Side, and he tolerated being there and even tried some honey and wanted to buy some.

Last night he said, as he laid in bed, that he was dizzy. How can you be dizzy lying in bed? So I figured it was that dropping-off-to-sleep dizziness. Then he was hot. But fever doesn't show up as a symptom of head injury. (And my Google search about pediatric head injury symptoms didn't give me anything, really, to worry about.)

Then this morning, everything worked right. He woke up and I was right there but didn't startle him. He roused himself, told me he was waking up enough to get up, got his classes, and said "I'm ready," then sat up and headed to the playroom. His bus was late so we had time to do everything: Tell a story (the usual); eat his marshmallow bar; and have a race. We said after we did all that if the bus hadn't arrived, I'd drive him, but just as we finished, the bus pulled up ... and he was OK with it. Amazing.

How sad is it that my delight is tempered with, "Is he OK?"

Another Haiku Friday

I almost missed it!
Haiku Friday a highlight
of a dreary day.

So tired of Queens --
Must everyone be a jerk?
Don't honk at THIS bus!

Started the morning
on a sour note for sure
and then another;

But things did improve
and ended with a movie
and a lion's roar.

* * * * *
I'm counting "lion's" as 2 syllables, anyone have another opinion?

These Friday haiku are inspired by blogger Christina at A Mommy Story.

Morning Rant

I could not meet one of my child’s basic needs – to eat.

I made a mistake (forgetting to bring his breakfast downstairs) that MADE HIM CRY as he got on the bus,

which I couldn’t do anything about.

I hate THAT THAT WHOLE BUS PROCESS IS OUT OF MY CONTROL. I HATE that we are always running late and now the matron has muttered something about the DOE guys or some sort of inspector timing them as they pull up in front of the school building, so we need to try extra hard to help them be on time (and in fact we like her and the driver and wouldn't want them to get in trouble).

I also HATE to make a mistake, it makes me feel ashamed and angry at myself.

I hate that I feel like that. I want to be different.

I want to be able to say, "You have to wait, I have to run upstairs and get his breakfast." I've done that before, but with the whole inspector thing I feel cowed. The idea that a mistake I make can get someone else in trouble freezes me.

All this over a flippin’ Pop-Tart, which is close to the world’s worst breakfast in the first place. Geez!