I also had no idea that The Price is Right is still on the air, as it's blaring in the jury room. And the audience on the show is packed and filled with bouncy people who are so excited when not-Bob Barker tells them to come on down.
Standing in line for the metal detector, women to the left and guys to the right, I found myself studying folks at court. Who is a defendant? Are defendants even i line? Who is here to see a friend or family member? What are the little kids that are in court with their moms thinking about?
Are they scared or sad? Or oblivious?
Which makes me think of my wee ones. My little M-man and his most recent summer camp experience did not go so well.
Last Friday, as I was plowing through some work, I got a call at the office from the private school in the burbs where he was going to camp.
It was the end of the third week there, and it had been tumultuous at points. Twice we'd been asked to pick him up because his behavior was too much -- not listening, running away.
I swear to God, I could write the script for these non-public schools. (I say non-public because thank god, public schools cannot kick out your kid just because he is a supreme handful). "Hi Ms Runlikeamama, sorry to bother you, but this just is not working out. We're not a good fit for M-man and meeting his needs. It's not fair to him. Blah blah blah. We're throwing him away because we don't want to be bothered with a child who isn't a cookie-cutter 4-year-old that fits our ideal of what a 4-year-old boy ought to be."
Oh wait, strike that last sentence, that would be way too honest and direct.
This sucks. We are so tired of this. My son has significant challenges in coping in a classroom. His IQ is higher than many kids his age and he's incredibly bright, verbal, energetic and loving. He also can rage and flip out like a little Tasmanian devil. To watch him in a group setting and see his face as he slowly becomes overwhelmed, to watch him alternately grow sad and frustrated, is heart-breaking. I just want to scoop him up and protect him from everything and everyone who just gives up on him. His dad and I tell ourselves that he'll be a CEO some day, or an accomplished artist, or TV reporter -- he'll be something amazing.
In the meantime, I agonized on how to answer the question I knew he'd ask, "why can't I go to summer camp anymore?" I always wonder how he and his little sister process what goes on around them. When he did ask, I just deflected, explaining he was all done with camp and now he was going to get to hang out with a new fun lady who was going to play with him everyday while Mommy and Daddy worked.
I mentioned my concern regarding this potential question to the hub earlier this week. And had to laugh when he non-chalantly responded, oh I already talked to him and told him it was because he was naughty.
Did he crumple and cry?
"Nah," my hub said. "He brushed it off."
Okay then.
I will always be pissed when someone underestimates my children, or in the case of M-man, tosses him aside. Where is his kiddie due process?
There was one no-nonsense teacher at this camp who seemed to really connect with him, who really seemed to try.
On his last day at camp, she gave him a soft squeeze ball with (inexplicably) a Cleveland Indian logo on it, telling him he should squeeze it when he gets frustrated. It already had a tear in it, which she murmured he had something to do with.
As I packed up his possessions, she told me he had a "pretty good day". What the hell, lady? You were part of the team that voted him off the island. I know I glared and was rather short. And then she pulled his name off of his little cubby, unable to wait until we were even out of the classroom door. Nice.
One of my biggest flaws in all of this is making this about me. So much of this is over my little guy's head. Thank God for that. Today I told him about the fun lady coming over again to play with him and he said "yay! I like staying home."
And you know? He's happy for now. And that makes me feel a little better about some of this. Just a little.
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