Sits and Thinks

I remember the feeling that day...I was getting setup for our faculty picnic when I got a phone call from the kids' school. They called to tell me that Tate was not hurt, but was very upset and they couldn't get him settled down. (I now know this is code word for he's in trouble). I quickly left the building to go pick him up.

On the way there, I called my mom and as soon as I heard her voice, I burst into tears. Those of you that know me well, know that crying is not my thing. As a matter of fact, I do everything in my power to avoid it at all costs. Don't ask...that's probably another post. But crying is the only thing I knew to do. End of my rope...as you would say. Ya see, Tate had not had the easiest spring. Everyday I would pick him up from school, I would hold my breath for what the teacher was going to say. "Tate had a hard time playing with others today." "Tate had a hard time listening today." "Tate is our best singer, but for some reason, he chooses not to cooperate."

All of this teacherese fell on a deaf ear. I was a pro at it. Tell them the negative student behavior in the most positive way possible...I've done it a million times. I could only imagine how bad it really was. This was probably the root of my emotion. It was really humbling to have to leave my job of "keeping other peoples' kids in line" because I couldn't keep my own in line. THIS IS WHAT I DO...THIS IS WHAT I'M GOOD AT! Why is everything I've ever learned failing me now????

That ten minute drive felt like an eternity while visions of Tate crying in the director's office swirled around in my head. Of course, my mom encouraged me and told me that this was a transition time and he was just adjusting to a new school but I wouldn't hear any of it. This was my fault. I work too much. I'm not consistent. I try to be too much for too many people and let my own fall through the cracks. Yep...I gave myself my own "spanking" all the way there.

I made the "Walk of Shame" into the front office and there he sat.

Red eyes.

Embarrassed.

Scared.

Frustrated.

I briefly spoke with the director, took his hand, and walked him to the car in silence. I had decided before I arrived that sometimes silence is better. I had pulled all of my tricks out of the bag for the past few months and none of them were working. I had tried all corrective measures and they were expired. So as my favorite childhood character, Eoyore says, "Sometimes I just sits and thinks and sometimes I just sits." Tate and mommy needed to "sits and thinks". And think we did.

The director had told me that Tate had kicked his teacher during rehearsal for the graduation ceremony and that he would not be allowed to perform with his class. Robbie and I both decided that Tate would attend the ceremony and sit in the back with me so he could see what he was missing.

It was not an easy night. I dreaded it. Many of my teachers take their kids to this school so when they saw Tate and I sitting in the back, their first question was "Why?" I just smiled and told them Tate was not able to perform tonight. Again silence. We sat in silence...until his friends walked down the aisle to the stage and then I heard him. He broke the silence. Sniff...sniff...whimpering. Without saying a word, he got it. How much of my silent life lesson he got, who knows? But when he saw all of his friends and they saw him, he understood enough.

That was one year ago.

Immediately following that incident, I had a dear friend of mine give me the best advice of my life, "Love Him." And that's what I've chosen to do. Throw out all my child development studies about behavior expectations and positive reinforcement vs. negative punishment. I was just going to "Love Him" and "Sits and Thinks". And by golly, it worked. He was calm more than upset. He laughed more than he cried. He listened more when he was heard.

And then there was Thursday night. Despite all of the positive progress, you can imagine my anxiety the past few weeks worrying about this year's graduation ceremony where Tate would actually be one of the "graduates". I shouldn't have worried about a thing. When the doors opened, there he was...

Beaming.

Proud.

Celebrated.

Loved.

Simply loved. It's not really that hard once you think about it.

Congratulations to my preschool grad...Tatum Robert O'Bryan...you're the best!