(Sung to the tune of "Dreams", by the band Heart)
Only, what I'm really talking about are nightmares! Re-reading this blog over the last several days has reminded me of some things that I haven't thought about in a really long time. In fact, on the way home from Jack's counseling session last night, I asked him if he remembered being home-schooled. He did, and he said he never thinks about it and "never wants to be reminded of it again!". Yeah, I mean, it wasn't really as bad as all that, but I don't blame you, kid.
One thing I can tell you for sure is that it was a nightmare for me. It has been. Off and on, for several years now. I used to wake up in the middle of the night, when Jack was attending his first elementary school. While things didn't improve for a while even after we moved him elsewhere, the people at this first school were basically giving me panic attacks every night and day. I'd wake up and either start thinking about what happened the day before, or I'd start worrying about what would happen the following day. I was in this constant state of panic, frustration, and pure anger.. it was almost never-ending. While most parents hate spring, summer, and winter vacations, I loved them. Why? Because nobody from school would call me to tell me about my son. I wouldn't have to worry about who pissed him off, or how a teacher didn't know how to handle him.. nor would I have to get a phone call from the most incompetent school principal I have ever had the extreme displeasure of working with.
The mere thought of this person- a photo, his name, his signature on a document- makes me feel both sick and furious at the same time. There are very few people in my life that I would use the word "hate" when describing my feelings for them. Very few. In this case, I don't know whether to pity or hate him. After Jack started attending his new school (for 4th and 5th grade), his old school had some kind of reading night. Jack and some of the neighbor boys said they were going over to the school, and I only realized after the fact what was going on. I wasn't thrilled about them going over there, nor was I ready yet to let my son wander the city on his own (even if the other kids were going with him), so I tagged along. (I walked well behind, to give them the impression that they were "big boys"). While we were there, and I was following Jack from room to room (more or less), the principal came up to me and asked how he was doing. To me, how Jack is doing is no longer any of his damn business. He failed at his job, where Jack was concerned. He doesn't get the right to inquire, and I won't give him what he wants. If Jack became a billionaire, believe me- the last person Jack would be crediting is this guy. Is that harsh? Abso-friggin-lutely.
Yesterday, Jack and his counselor came to an agreement that he no longer needs to come in every month. (We recently went down from every two weeks, I think about a year ago). We're down to quarterly- every 3 months- and I'm cool with that. I am not ready to cut her out of our lives yet, because I do worry about the transition to high school. (So maybe I'm the one who needs a shrink??) Too many changes- cutting too much out- makes me extremely uncomfortable at this point. But yes, our goal is ultimately to no longer need counseling.
Only, what I'm really talking about are nightmares! Re-reading this blog over the last several days has reminded me of some things that I haven't thought about in a really long time. In fact, on the way home from Jack's counseling session last night, I asked him if he remembered being home-schooled. He did, and he said he never thinks about it and "never wants to be reminded of it again!". Yeah, I mean, it wasn't really as bad as all that, but I don't blame you, kid.
One thing I can tell you for sure is that it was a nightmare for me. It has been. Off and on, for several years now. I used to wake up in the middle of the night, when Jack was attending his first elementary school. While things didn't improve for a while even after we moved him elsewhere, the people at this first school were basically giving me panic attacks every night and day. I'd wake up and either start thinking about what happened the day before, or I'd start worrying about what would happen the following day. I was in this constant state of panic, frustration, and pure anger.. it was almost never-ending. While most parents hate spring, summer, and winter vacations, I loved them. Why? Because nobody from school would call me to tell me about my son. I wouldn't have to worry about who pissed him off, or how a teacher didn't know how to handle him.. nor would I have to get a phone call from the most incompetent school principal I have ever had the extreme displeasure of working with.
The mere thought of this person- a photo, his name, his signature on a document- makes me feel both sick and furious at the same time. There are very few people in my life that I would use the word "hate" when describing my feelings for them. Very few. In this case, I don't know whether to pity or hate him. After Jack started attending his new school (for 4th and 5th grade), his old school had some kind of reading night. Jack and some of the neighbor boys said they were going over to the school, and I only realized after the fact what was going on. I wasn't thrilled about them going over there, nor was I ready yet to let my son wander the city on his own (even if the other kids were going with him), so I tagged along. (I walked well behind, to give them the impression that they were "big boys"). While we were there, and I was following Jack from room to room (more or less), the principal came up to me and asked how he was doing. To me, how Jack is doing is no longer any of his damn business. He failed at his job, where Jack was concerned. He doesn't get the right to inquire, and I won't give him what he wants. If Jack became a billionaire, believe me- the last person Jack would be crediting is this guy. Is that harsh? Abso-friggin-lutely.
Yesterday, Jack and his counselor came to an agreement that he no longer needs to come in every month. (We recently went down from every two weeks, I think about a year ago). We're down to quarterly- every 3 months- and I'm cool with that. I am not ready to cut her out of our lives yet, because I do worry about the transition to high school. (So maybe I'm the one who needs a shrink??) Too many changes- cutting too much out- makes me extremely uncomfortable at this point. But yes, our goal is ultimately to no longer need counseling.
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