A Teacher, A Horrid Day, and A Grateful Mom

I like to paraphrase Longfellow when describing my son: When he is good, he’s very, very good. But when he is bad, he’s horrid. So, as I sent him off to preschool this year, I worried. I know how frustrated I get on his ‘horrid’ days. And I’m his mom. I love him unconditionally. So what about his teacher? How would she respond?

Well, a couple weeks into the school year I got to find out. His teacher pulled me aside for a talk. He’d had a bad day. I really bad day. Not listening. Talking back. Sticking his fingers in his ears while being corrected. You name it, he did it.

My heart sunk.

I called my husband, my mom, my dad, my brother (who’s a kindergarten teacher), asking for strategies and advise. And after an unnecessary amount of fretting and a lot of prayer, my husband and I came up with a plan: grounding, privilege loss, apology card, and apology present bought partially with his own money. All weekend long we practiced the proper way to react when corrected. And all weekend long I worried. I worried that our solutions wouldn’t work and he would start hating school. And I worried his teachers wouldn’t give him another chance. I worried in their minds he would now always be ‘that kid.’

But as I left him in his classroom on Monday, all I felt was grateful. Because instead of humiliated, he was made to feel proud.

So, for all the teachers and caregivers in whom our trust is befittingly bestowed, thank you.

Thank you for smiles and hugs in the morning. For reassuring shoulder pats every time we anxiously ask how the day went. Thank you for looking for, and praising, a job well done. Thank you for chances: second, third, fourth…

And thank you. Thank you for loving our children. Even when they’re horrid.