Last Class

 Today marks the end of an era.  For seven years (with the exception of the lock down during the pandemic), Robby has participated in classes at a local enrichment school. The first class he enrolled in was 3d History- World War II. He has taken every class offered by that teacher over the past seven years. Today Robby goes to that school for the final time. 

Because of scheduling conflicts and an interest in more classes, this year I have been traveling to and from his school twice a week. Because his school is 45 minutes away, dropping him off is not a quite task. After driving the trip twice a week all year, I am surprised by my emotions this morning. I am going to be happy to save the gas, but I am going to miss taking him there. 

I loved watching Robby's face as he emerged from class. I could tell from his smile how well the class went. (He never had a bad class so a scowl was never seen on Compass days.) On the drive home he would regale me with tales from class and begin to lay plans for future challenges. In full disclosure, I still do not fully understand the game that he plays at school. But I have come to appreciate the joy that it brings to Robby, and for that I am grateful. 

Today is his last class at school and tomorrow marks his final band performance. On Sunday I turn 50 and next week we head to NOLA for Robby's award ceremony.  Everything is starting to happen very quickly!

Not My Fault

I never had to worry about receiving emails from Robby's teachers. His fear of disappointing others has always been enough to keep him in line. Timmy, on the other hand, is my little boundary pusher. He isn't bad, nor is he destructive. But he is curious and he does see things through an unusual lens. Ask him a question and you will get an honest answer. (We are working on filters but it is a process.) 

Where I didn't receive emails from Robby's teachers, I am in regular communication with Timmy's. The emails never reveal true misbehavior or punish worthy antics. Instead, she shares his peculiar reflections and the pathways of his self-driven explorations.

Where Robby was fearful of disappointing others, Timmy seems to embrace the opportunity to challenge the system whenever possible. Because of this, I receive many more emails with his name as the subject. A few days ago Timmy came running out to me after logging out of school. By the way he was approaching I could tell that it was serious. He sat down next to me on the couch, put his hand on my laptop and looked at me with concern in his eyes. 

"Momom. Before you check your email, I need to tell you something. It wasn't my fault." 

Then he stood up and walked down the hallway. When pressed for more details he simply responded, "Let's wait and see what the email says first. Just remember that it wasn't my fault." 

I have waited an email which never materialized. I can only assume that Timmy was simply hedging his bets. This kid is keeping me on my toes!

Celebrations begin...

 Yesterday we officially kicked off Scott's retirement celebrations. The school board honored retiring teachers during last night's meeting. The boys and I were excited to join him for the meeting. Timmy was especially enthusiastic about going to Red Robin to celebrate before the meeting. 

I felt unexpectedly emotional when Scott was called to the front for his recognition. I know that he has been planning his retirement for years, but this feels very sudden. I suppose I didn't really expect him to follow through with his plans. Hearing his name called by the school board left little doubt that our lives are about to completely change. 

Change is not something that I love, but it is certainly slapping me in the face this week. Today is Robby's final band lesson, and yesterday was the first class registration morning that I haven't had to wake at 4:30 to snag the coveted courses. Everything is changing.

Don't even get me started on the fact that I turn 50 on Sunday...

Weaponized Kindness

 Happy (belated) Mother's Day to all Moms, Dads and individuals who fill the role for a child. 

This weekend was busy and productive but also fun and memorable. On Friday Robby and I headed to set up our little booth at the Renaissance Faire. Because the host location is 90 minutes from our house, we decided to make an adventure out of the opportunity by booking a hotel room and staying in the area for the night. It took us about two hours to set up, allowing us ample time to check into our hotel and hit the local Waffle House for a carb-heavy dinner. On Saturday morning we were able to sleep in a little before heading to the Faire.

We were looking forward to the Renaissance Faire. Dressed in our medieval costumes, we were excited to experience the event and sell some dragons. Our happy-go-lucky optimism was soiled by our neighbor almost as soon as we arrived.  

Without even an introduction, a large man walked out of the adjoining tent, stood with his arms crossed and said, "What do you think you're doing?"  I met him with a smile and tried to shake his hand (he never uncrossed his arms) before introducing myself, Robby and our little FlexyFriend business.  Without a visual cue, he simplye responded by saying, "Well this isn't going to work at all. I'm going to get Angie."  (Angie is the event coordinator for the event.)

If there is one trait that annoys me perhaps more than all others, it is the chronic tattler. The individual who responds to any conflict by immediately elevating to a supervisor or a perceived authority figure. Perhaps they did not have the art of conversation back in the medieval times? 

As soon as he declared his intention to call in the coordinator I felt my ire rise. I don't tolerate tattling among my children. Witnessing it from a grown man was infuriating.  At that moment in time I was able to check my reaction. I remembered that I was with Robby and that this was a teachable moment. I took a deep breath and responded.

"Why don't you just talk to me first? If you tell me the problem maybe we can work it out. Just tell me the issue."

He was obviously taken aback by my retort. I think he is accustomed to hiding behind somebody else rather than deal with an issue- and an individually- directly. He muttered something about wanting our table pushed back a few feet, to which I responded that it wasn't an issue. Robby and I immediately set to work to reset our display to accommodate his request while he stood and watched. 

I don't like being supervised by a pro-tattler. I took advantage of our uninvited audience by having a discussion with Robby about the benefits of adult discussions verses running to tattle. He hid inside his tent for the remainder of the day, emerging on occasion to cast a glare towards us. I always met his eyes with a huge smile and a nod hello. 

Sometimes weaponized kindness just feels really satisfying!