First Grade Boys and Ice Cold Treats

WB...love of my life, joy of my soul...pain in my a$$...

If you were to meet WB, you'd likely comment on him being a "well-behaved", "good" little boy. He says please and thank you, and he at least excuses himself before he interrupts my conversation. He says "Yes, sir" and "No, ma'am"...he makes me so proud--it's probably a sin.

But then...he goes to school...he goes to school and becomes a different child. A child I've never seen (which is probably a good thing because I'd wring his neck!). Kindergarten was a snap...it's all good...an occasional caution on rough play, maybe he "lifted" an extra snack, and seems like he might have "offered" to kiss a little girl. He went to an all-day kindergarten, very structured, with homework. He was/is a lazy writer, but most little boys are.

It all really started in 1st grade. By week six, we were already in daily communication with his teacher. She couldn't believe the child we described, nor we the child she depicted. She clearly loves him, and he clearly makes many of her days long and difficult. She's the mom of four boys, he pulls strings that she didn't know she had and he has fully drawn her into his web. She says he's a "master manipulator" and I'm afraid he's destined for a life in politics. Long story, short version--school counselors, private counselors, testing, crying myself to sleep, WB crying himself to sleep, JB not having a clue about what to do with either one of us--conclusion, "he's smarter than your average bear." Seriously, like being smart is a license to misbehave. We eventually got on the right track (OK...didn't want to admit it was this "elementary", but "Love and Logic" does work. And my advise is to get the books before you get the kids!)

Well, Yogi...we still have occasional problems. Like today..."talking back to the teacher" "did not want to do his work." So tonight, Friday night, he has dinner, takes a bath and gets sent to bed at 6:30, but not before he watched me and JB make snow cones. (aka: Booth family summer dessert of choice.)

And he says, "thank you Mom for teaching me a lesson about not talking back to my teacher and thank you for teaching me about consequences." Pause...and he says..."I said, "Thank you Mom", as he eyes my Purple Cow and licks his lips. And I say, "I'm not really sure you've "gotten the lesson"...and I can't say "You're welcome" right now but I do love you, and no, you can't have a snow cone."

And I want another one SO bad that I can't stand it....Kid that is...well, OK, a snow cone too.