Kindergarten Blues

I decided that 9:30 might be a more appropriate time to put together coherent sentences, instead of the slop I passed off as an entry at midnight last night. However, there's been so much going on since I last went AWOL on my blog, that I think we'd better just go one family member at a time. We'll let Garrett go first:
He's been a kindergartener for about a month and a half now. Actually, to be more specific, THIRTY THREE DAYS. Because, yes! Garrett is keeping track of exactly how many days he's been in school. He also has memorized the words to every color song, every shape poem, and every rhyme that his teacher has introduced to the class. He can also tell you all seventeen students' names - in order of how they line up for lunch. Garrett was pretty much born to go to kindergarten.



He's reading and drawing up a storm, and has also been writing his own "books", complete with "chapters", a title page, and illustrations - my favorite so far is titled "Making a Mess", but I also enjoy "The Night Delaney Was Born". He adores his teacher, has not had to turn his behavior card even once, loves riding the bus, and has a best friend, Grace (whom he talks about INCESSANTLY - but we do love her, so it's tolerable).



We signed Garrett up to play a second season of soccer this fall, which has turned out to be nothing but pure torture for all of us. He throws a full on fit when it's practice night or game day, and then barely participates in the game. The only hustling he does is when it's time for him to sit on the bench, or when snacks are being passed out. Of course we're making him finish out the season in an attempt to be mature, responsible parents, but I can't WAIT until this is over. Turns out Garrett is not into team sports. At all. And probably never will be. He hates getting dirty and doesn't like to be touched or pushed, which pretty much rules out most sporting events. So there's that. And Laura? Kicking ASS at soccer. And gymnastics. Of course.



And while it sounds like his Kindergarten year has been off to a wonderful start, that's not really the whole story. The rest of the story is that Garrett has turned into a total beast. And, OF COURSE, I really do say that in the most loving way possible.

Because while I do love him with all my heart, he really has become a miserable little tyrant with the attitude of a fifteen year old, GOD HELP ME. He's very difficult to be around these days - sassy, talking back, tormenting Laura, arguing, arguing, ARGUING - you name it. I had never seen Garrett throw an actual temper tantrum (you know, falling to the floor, wailing, and kicking legs and arms?) until THIS MONTH. Not even when he was two. I'm not sure what's going on, but it's exhausting for all of us and just totally wiping me out emotionally.



After six years, what I know about Garrett is that he is incredibly smart, has a great vocabulary and a very creative imagination, is freakishly organized, has difficulty with changes and transitions, and maybe has a touch of OCD. I also know that he comes by much of it honestly - I may possibly have some OCD issues myself (you THINK?). I also think that because he is SO much like Seth and myself, that it's very hard to parent him (put together three people who ALL need to have the LAST WORD and just see what happens - good times!). I want to teach him how to manage his frustrations, but it's hard when I don't always feel like I know how to do that for myself.

He came home one day with a book that his class had made about him. He was the student of the day, and each child had drawn his picture. We read the book, and then Garrett took it off to bed with him. A while later, he came out with a list of names - who he said had done their picture "wrong". I told him that the kids all worked hard on their pictures, and just because they did it differently than he would, that did NOT make it wrong. He just looked at me, and then went on to explain WHAT each child did "wrong" - one had colored his shirt the wrong color, one didn't draw grass at the bottom of the page, one put a hat on him and he wasn't WEARING a hat that day, etc. etc.

I tried again to explain that everybody does things differently, and that that is a GOOD thing, and so on. It apparently didn't sink in, because a few minutes later, I found him in his bedroom, under his sleeping bag, CORRECTING the other children's pictures.

The bottom line is, if it's not HIS way, it's WRONG. I just can't seem to get through to him that there are times you just have to be happy and go with the flow. And can you just imagine how fun it is to have Mr. Perfectionist in the same household as Ms. Happy, Fun, and Free #1 and Ms. Happy, Fun, and Free #2?



More on them later. Must rest up to deal with whatever before-school outburst Garrett has in store for me tomorrow...