Playing the social game

Ok, so apparently, elementary school (for parents) is a lot like Survivor; only if you don't play a good social game, it's not you who gets kicked off the island, it's your kid.

Eldest is in second grade this year. I haven't had a lot of time (work committments) the last two years to stalk, I mean help, his teachers. Or the PTA. So, aside from a few neighbors and friends from preschool, I haven't exactly been hooked in to the school's social network. Who cares, right? I've got friends, they've got friends, whatever.


Scene: mid-August, immediately after the class/teacher assignments are posted. Everyone in the neighborhood is discussing the results.

Neighbor A: We got Teacher B, but I knew we would; last year's teacher said my little Princess would do well with her. Well, that she'd do fine as long as she didn't get Teacher C, I've heard she's a nightmare! Good thing last year's teacher put in a good word for us!! Who did your Eldest get?
Me: Teacher C. (WTF is wrong with this teacher? I didn't know we had awful teachers, I've never heard the gossip.)

Neighbor B: Oh, I heard your Eldest got Teacher C. I'm so sorry! When Rosie had her two years ago, she would come home crying every day. Turns out she lets the class run wild until she's had enough, then screams at all of them.
Me: (stunned silence) Uh, thanks. (and you couldn't have told me this 6 months ago?!?)

Neighbor C: Do you know the PTA president? Oh, I thought you did, since she lives just a couple blocks from you. Anyway, she told me that, of the whole building, the teacher she most wants her kids to avoid is Teacher C.
Me: (Getting used to these stories by now but steamed nonetheless) Uh, thanks. (Again, you could have told me this 6 months ago!)

Neighbor D: Hey, I saw my Prince is in the same class as your Eldest. They're going to have so much fun together!
Me: (starting to see a pattern)Yeah, he seemed really happy about it, too. Hey, just out of curiosity, do you attend PTA meetings? Volunteer at the school, ever?
Neighbor D: No, I can't find the time with my job and all. Why?
Me: (suspicion confirmed!!) Oh, no reason...

So, yup, as far as I can tell, any parent too busy or tuned out or clueless to know ahead of time to request their child not have Teacher C, has their kid in Teacher C's class. In other words, the kids of parents who don't play the social game suffer the consequences of dealing with this teacher.

What's a devoted mom to do? Well, my workload is down this year. I actually have a few hours off during the school day here and there. Time to get linked up! Time to stalk, I mean help the teacher! Time to get to know the PTA moms!



Two months into the school year: It took a while for my eager offers of volunteer time to get accepted, but I'm finally helping the PTA moms once a week, and the teacher (I get to be in the classroom!) twice a month. Getting to know some of the friendlier people in the cast of characters. When I've helped, the class has been uniformly a bit noisy and wild; but we're talking a group of 24 second-graders, too. I'm not sure about this.

In the meantime, I've listened to complaints from Eldest that the classroom is noisy; only two occassions where the teacher punished the entire class; that everybody at his table talks too much and he can't get his work done; etc.

Then, I attend his teacher conference. He's off-task a lot, doesn't finish his work on time. Grades are fine. Not a behavior problem or a rule-breaker, but needs improvement in work habits regardless. I let the teacher know (nicely; I don't burn bridges unless I must!) that he's complained about how distracting the class is; she brushes it off.

I let it stew for a day. Then I come in for my volunteer time.

On my way out, I have a pleasant conversation with the principal. He's seen me around the last month or so, helping out (he's new: advantage, me: as far as he knows, I always hang out at the schol like this). He doesn't mind taking a few minutes to chat. I ask what he thinks of Teacher C. He feels that her class is no worse than others. I'm not sure I believe him. But my kid isn't struggling academically, his anxiety hasn't hit the roof, so... save Mama Bear for another day. I've let the principal know that I'm watching, and concerned. Perhaps even if he doesn't admit it to me, he'll keep an eye on the class; perhaps not. But, before I leave, he offers me, unasked, this proof of my whole hypothesis:

"I don't get into letting parents ask for specific teachers... but, come spring, let's sit down and have a talk about what kind of classroom environment you feel would be the best match for Eldest. We can certainly do our best to find the best fit we can for next year."


Yup, I have to play the social game. Oh, and put up with a less-than-ideal teacher for this year; which I can do, as long as niether Teacher nor Eldest gets any worse. She's not nearly as bad as the teacher nightmare this inventive mom had to get rid of. (Go there, read it; be insprired!)

I am _____

Prompted by a blog I read:

I am someone who was raised by selfish parents; too busy with their own lives to truly care what the kids were up to (in my case, being abused by an older brother).

I am someone who decides every single damn day to put my own kids first whenever possible. I love them completely and fiercly. I am mama bear. Don't try to get in the way of my kids, or I will run you over. I struggle to let them fight their own battles when they can, but they're little yet. I spent three months fighting an idiot rule on my daughter's behalf. It was exhausting, but I'd do it all over again.

I am a therapist. I help others cope with their challenges; while some days struggling with my own. I care for the people I help, and will always do my best for them. But it's also exhausting some days. I am sure that I've chosen the right career path.

I am a wife. I love my husband more than any other creature on earth besides our kids, but some days I have to consciously choose to remain a wife. This marriage thing is HARD.

I am a friend. I don't open mysel fup to new people often, because at times people will blow me off without explanation and that hurts. But if I've let you in, I hold nothing back. I will bring you medicine and popsicles when you're sick, or help you plot revenge. Whatever you need!

I am not always happy with who I am or where I'm at in life. I struggle some days to maintain perspective. But when I can gain that larger perspective, I feel pretty damn lucky to be where I'm at.

Attitude: gratitude

Ok, so I've been busy lately. Busy NOT getting my possible dream job, busy adjusting to kids in elementary school, busy tracking politics.

It's this last that's gotten me into trouble. I've been asked on facebook if I'm ok; I seem angry lately. One, I don't use facebook to tout my "perfect" (i.e., imaginary) life, I tell the truth. Two, yes, I'm angry; whenever I pay attention to politics, I see voter suppression and attempts to ensure that my daughter doesn't have the same choices/control in her life which I've had, let alone equality. Sorry, that brings out the Mama Bear. If I seem too angry to you, you're not paying attention, in my opinion.

However, in perspective, yes, I am ok. And that's the part I want to share today. I was walking around the neighborhood this morning. Beautiful, sunny, breezy, early fall morning. Watching squirrels, looking at flowers, listening to birds. Who could be angry when faced with that?

I caught myself smiling, watching the dog sniff and the two-year-old giggle at butterflies. I am contemplating, this morning, how lucky I am. Lucky to have healthy, relatively happy kids who love school; and who are growing into people who are kind, caring, and thoughtful. Lucky to have a career I enjoy, even if my current employer is a nightmare (long-term plan: get out; short-term plan: pay the bills). Lucky to have a sister who knows nearly everything about me and loves me anyway; and a good friend of whom I could say the same. Lucky to live in a neighborhood which is safe, where I don't hesitate to take a walk with the overly friendly dog and the pokey little toddler. A neighborhood where things put out on the devil strip are free for the taking; but where lawn furniture, toys, and bikes left in front yards or on porches seem never to disappear.

And, yes, even though I didn't get that fantastic job, I can say that I'm grateful even for that. This is giving me time to attend continuing education workshops, volunteer at school, play with the two-year-old, get some holiday shopping done early (like I used to, Before Kids), and even revisit my favorite old friend reading for fun.

Am I ok? Yes, I have a pretty good life. Is it perfect? Absolutely not; but no one's is. (If anyone you know claims to have the perfect life, be very, very suspicious!) But it is absolutely good enough; and that's what really matters.

Aunt Flo and Me

Listen, Flo... it's hard for you to hear, I know, but... I'm really done with your visits. You've been showing up at my house on a regular basis, mostly uninvited, for thirty years now. I'm just tired of your company. There's no other way to put it!

Yeah, it was awful at first when you appeared. I was only 10 for goodness sake. I didn't know how to manage your visits, nor was I at all comfortable disucssing you with others. You've always been a bit too... enthusiastic, shall we say? I was harrassed endlessly in middle school thanks to you and your unexpected visits. I still can't look back at that time with a sense of humor, as you do. Those practical jokes? Still not funny, no matter what you say.

Then, there came a time in my life when I looked forward to your visits. You knew that eventually you'd have me stuck like that, didn't you? There was a time that if you didn't arrive early, I got very concerned about whether you were planning to visit at all. We got along ok during those years. I'd welcome your visits but hate your enthusiasm, but we had a deal worked out: you arrive as expected, I'll take care of you while you're here.

Eventually, I was ready for kids. You were most appreciated then. You were useful to me, although I looked forward at that time to not seeing you for a few months. Again, we found a workable balance for a brief time. But, Flo, I'm done with kids. You can go now. Really. I'm sorry to say that, after all these years, I don't think I'll even miss you. We've had our fun. You've done your job. Just go.

(Now, where's that "off" switch?)

About Me

Ok, a bit about me to begin. About the title: I wanted to call it psycho mom, but other smart women before me have claimed that one ; so I have to settle for psych, which is what I am. I'm a psychologist for fun and (not much) profit, but a mom first. I've been thinking about trying a blog years now, but I've finally decided to take the flying leap into it. Why? I'm still not sure. We'll see what happens.