and when I was a teenager they barely knew who I was due to my reports with a high achieving score on ‘days absent.’
So when my eldest child started school, I avoided teachers like the plague, knowing that not only am I now being judged on my own behaviour but also on my children’s.
And we all know my kids aren’t the best behaved kids…
One of my kids teaches her mate the word fuck, the other clever little bastard learnt how to spell fuck, one of my kids decided it was Pants Off Friday and I only learnt on her return home that she didn’t feel the need to wear undies that day. When you go to a teacher to try to explain to her that you didn’t know your kid wasn’t wearing undies the day before and that you do not condone fanny flashing in any way, shape or form, expect to be met with a really comfortable not-awkward-at-all silence…
And now Arlo is reverting back to his daycare days and screaming his head off when I leave him at kindy…
And all I can think of is the judgments, ‘Yep….. they are always late, Yep…… the mums never wearing shoes…. Yep I heard the mum swearing on the phone the other day…… Yep I heard they had major marriage problems’…. and now I imagine… ‘Yep… no wonder the kid has separation anxiety… she’s always on Facebook..’
So last week when Arlo’s tantrum ripped my heart out, stomped on it and left me with the biggest anxiety attack of my life, all I wanted to do is scoop him back up and chuck him in the car and flick the bird to everyone and all of their judgments. Only I knew that he needed me to make a Mum decision and do the right thing..I had no idea what the right thing to do was, my heart says, ‘pick him up, drive him to a drive through, get him a burger, take him to Toy World for a shop until you drop session and then bring him home to stroke his ginger locks’.. but my head was all ‘Be Strong woman.. you are trying to not raise an ARSE’.. So I turned to the teacher… And I asked her, ‘what the hell should I do?’
Now most sane people would strive to be as far away as humanly possible from said screaming exorcism needing 4 year old.. and demand I chuck him in the car and bring him back when he’s behaving reasonably. But not this teacher, this teacher looked at me with the kindest of all eyes and said ‘Constance, he will be just fine, I promise. You go and I will call you if he doesn’t settle’ so out I walked, confident that my boy is in her warm hands but still heart achingly anxious. Only, before I got to the car she was outside behind me,
‘Just letting you know that Arlo has already calmed down and he’s doing a puzzle and he’s just beautiful, have a good day Constance, he’s fine.’
I nearly cried.
Determined to get to learn more of this heavenly creature I have since got to know her better and while chatting about the crazy things these kids say she said to me,
‘Oh I just think I am so lucky, most peoples work colleagues are adults or the same age as them, my colleagues are these 4 year olds and they really the funniest and most beautiful little people to spend your days with.’
That day when I picked my daughter up (fully dressed thank you very much) I asked her how if she likes her teacher and she responded ‘yep… she’s always nice. And when we get in trouble she doesn’t yell at us, she joke yells so we know that we were naughty but we are too busy laughing to be scared..’
Joke yells???? I fucking LOVE that.
So there you have it…. my relationship with teachers is changing. My beautiful experiences as a mother with her kids at school far outweigh my shit ones as a kid.
Love Con xxx