Let's just start out with the Jaws theme music here, because that's what should have been playing in my head before I even got out of bed this morning. I should have known there was a land-loving shark ready to eat me alive before my feet hit the carpet. After all, it was the day of Rowen's kindergarten screening. dun-nuh... dun-nuh... DUN-NUH DUN NUH!
I'd been following the endless chatter of an anxious 5-year-old who would rather poke his cute little eyes out than go to a new school with new kids. It's a sad, sad thing to watch the anxiety of any child let alone the Biggie-sized version that my son falls prey to every day. Not to mention the ensuing result that has Rowen grunting and yelling angrily at me all the live-long day. That's when I find myself grasping the car keys and mapquesting the quickest route to Mexico.
So we walked in the school and I almost had a heart attack when I realized we'd be integrating into our new school along with other families. I guess it was wishful thinking when I pictured us going at it alone with some poor elementary staffer at whom Rowen would verbally attack. This is much better. Now Rowen can take his pick of who to target.
After finding a seat as far away from people as we could, the sweet principal began her talk with my 2-year-old screaming and Rowen sputtering, "Let's get away from these frickin' people!" Ok, so I need to stop using the word "freaking" because Rowen puts his own spin on it to sound like he's dropping the F-bomb all the time.
Because there wasn't a window to dive out of, I pulled up my big girl pants and tried to preserve any likeness of control I had. Unfortunately, that's like trying to douse the atom bomb with pepper spray. Not gonna happen. So I gathered up my things and strolled out of the room. After Rowen screamed a few more PG obscenities at the kindergarten aid ("I DON'T LIKE THAT LADY!!") I hurried out the door with the hopes that my fate might be met with a sniper rifle.
And to cap off the day, I lost it when I got home. Yes, this stuff is frustrating, but it's also very sad for Rowen. I cried the sobbing snot cry and Rowen met my tears with a retelling of a fact about strawberries. What can I say; others' emotions just aren't his forte. His world is different than ours. And honestly, it's hard to live in sometimes. But I do everyday. Sometimes I forget that I can't ask him what he wants for lunch when he is washing his hands because he just can't process two things together. And I certainly can't ask him to brush his teeth when he is flapping around like a spinning top out of control. These are the rules. We just need to find a good compromise on how a collision of our two worlds looks. I'm all ears.
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