I do realize that I left most of you hanging with the Punk/School situation.
Here's a quick update.
After Christmas break Punk and I had a long talk. At that point, he had spent the better part of the month doing everything in his power to "make a good situation for himself." And while both his father and I applauded the effort, we were not so certain that the life lessons he learned were great ones. In essence, this is what Punk took away from it:
"When people are nasty to you, it is your fault."
"If an adult says 'I don't like your personality' (OH yes she did), then you have a responsibility to change who you are."
"Even when you don't understand what you did wrong, tiptoe around the people that you seem to be pissing off just to make them happy."
I am not sure those are the type of things I want Punk to be taking from his elementary education.
However, in the interest of fair and honest coverage, I decided to ask around. I didn't want to be anybody's fool, and while I truly believe that he is a good kid, nobody's perfect, and I wanted to investigate before we made any real decisions.
After all, the current principal had assured us all the Punk had "Deep and serious social issues. That the entire staff was EXTREMELY worried about him." She made him sound like Columbine material - and if that were the case, something had to be done - NOW.
First stop was his former elementary principal. I stopped into her office, did not even have to introduce myself. She asked right away, "How is Punk? How does he like his new school? I really miss that kid."
What? MY kid? The future Unabomber? Seriously?
She went on to say that one of the most endearing traits about him is that everyone who knew him (and most people did) liked him. His teachers knew that if they put Punk in a group, the group would work together and get along - it's the kind of guy he is.
She went on to say that Punk was a highly gifted child, mentally, emotionally, and socially - a child with absolutely "NO social issues whatsoever" (an unprompted comment I might add). She continued to elaborate on the fact that he seemed to do well in any environment, was polite, courteous and appropriately funny.
When I shared some of his current issues at the new school, she looked almost sad and said, "Oh - I would hate to see Punk lose his fantastic sense of humor and become one of those people who forgets how to joke around just because he is trying to please somebody else."
OH
MY
GOD!
Far cry from "Punk, this goofing around persona you have just isn't working for you. Maybe you should try something else." (The last words his current principal spoke to him.)
Alright - so that was only one opinion right?
That's what I thought too.
So, in an effort to maintain Punk's self esteem, I took both he and Kooka back to the old school to wish their former teachers a Merry Christmas.
The reception was unreal.
As he walked down the hallway, kids came out of their rooms shouting his name, high fiving him, asking if he was coming back. Teachers shook his hand - not just HIS teacher, LOTS of teachers. They said they missed him. One class invited him to just come hang out for a while, while Kook and I walked to the other wing.
WTF?!! Does this sound like a kid with poor social skills? A kid who "looks for conflict"? A kid who I should be EXTREMELY worried about?!
Sooooooo - being the pessimist I am, I still wanted to know what was going on. I mean, Punk's troubles could not possibly be the result an overly defensive administrator going to any length at all to save face . . . could it?
Maybe the kids at this school are different. Maybe the parenting styles are not the same. Maybe Punk does not fit in with the kids at the new school - maybe it is that.
Which does not explain, why out of the 10 boys in his class, Punk has been invited to 5 birthday parties this year, 7 sleepovers, and who knows what else. It also does not explain what happened to my "socially deviant" son this afternoon.
As I was picking him up from yet another birthday party today, (a birthday party attended by kids from his NEW school) the birthday boy's mom approached me. "Oh," she said, "Brent just LOVES having Punk as a friend. He always said such good things about him, and when I met him myself today, I could see that they were all true. Punk is such a lovely child, an absolute delight. What a wonderful soul he is - thank you so much for letting him be here today."
Uhhhh - you're welcome.
But as she is gushing - another mom steps up and interrupts, "Are you Punk's mom? I am Erik's mom, and he is just dying to have Punk come over to play, he talks about him all of the time, and has been pestering me for weeks."
OK.
And you won't believe this - but as this mom is finishing up, Mom number THREE steps in to ask if I think HER son and Punk can play sometime, because Punk is (and I quote) "The kind of boy all mom's want their kids to hang out with."
Yeah - and when we get home - friend number 4 from new school wants to come over and play.
Where the hell is the principal now? Can I tape record this? Do I need to depose these women in her office?
Anyway - this is where we end up:
Punk and I had a long talk. I told him that I appreciate how hard he worked to make things better for himself, but that he deserved better than what he was getting from the adults around him. He deserves to be surrounded by people who believe in his innate goodness, not people who constantly question his personality.
A huge grin spread over his face.
"Mom," he said, "I just feel so good about myself now. I was starting to think that I really was a bad kid. That I was a troublemaker. I didn't even know what I had done, but I felt like everyone thought it, so it must be true. But when I saw my old teachers, and hear those things from my friend's mom's, I know who I am. I am a good person, and it feels really nice to hear THAT for a change."
I bet it does.
So I will say it again.
Punk is a great kid.
He has a beautiful heart and an amazing spirit.
He is loyal, peaceful and honest.
He believes in doing the right thing, even when it is difficult.
And right now, I am sickened by the people who tried to make me believe I was wrong about that.
Even more sickened that they tried to make HIM believe it.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sunday, December 27, 2009
hate to say "i told you so"
Just for fun, I was reading about where all of the first families spent their Christmas holidays. I came across this little gem . . . none of it surprises me, especially the good parts:
Here’s a great question that was raised by a comment on our site: where have First Families traditionally spent Christmas?
It’s been noted that both Reagan and George W. Bush spent Christmas at the White House or Camp David, so that the agents protecting them could keep relatively normal schedules and be with their families on the holidays.
The Utopias, of course, are heading to Hawaii for Christmas, at great public expense flying Air Force One thousands of miles away on the taxpayer dime, and renting a $4,000 a night, giant mansion for them to play around in when the White House and Camp David are already bought and paid for by the public.
Their jetting off on an expensive taxpayer funded trip to Hawaii wouldn’t be quite so offensive if his family were actually still there… and since they can drag her family around on our dime too, why not head to Hawaii? It’s cold and dreary in Chicago right now, and not much better in DC. They probably believe that those Secret Service agents are so flattered to be in such an “unprecedented” and “historic” administration that they are glad to be away from their families during the holidays.
Besides, it’s been months since we’ve seen his glistening pecs and her fantastic arms!
What recession, right?
We honestly don’t know what the Clintons, George H. W. Bushes, Carters, Fords, Nixons, Johnsons, Kennedys, Eisenhowers, or Roosevelts did for Christmas, or where they spent it.
It might be a fun research project today and tomorrow to figure this out.
We never knew the Reagans decided to stay at the White House so they wouldn’t inconvenience the staff with a vacation during holidays…but it doesn’t surprise us at all that Reagan was decent and kind enough not to tear moms and dads away from their kids to do their duty when he didn’t need to.
And, frankly, it really doesn’t surprise us the Utopias gleefully abuse every perk afforded them. This is the woman who, after all, has been given everything she ever dreamed of and, yet, still asks “What are you getting me for Christmas? You should feel pressure” on national television.
Hope!
Change!
Me Me Me!
To be fair, I looked up the other Presidents as well. Most of them stayed in DC or Camp David to help their staff members stay close to their families. The Kennedy's the Bushes,the Eisenhowers, the Rooseveldt's the Reagans.
I am just glad that I was able to pull this off of somebody else's website - because I'd be tarred and feathered if I had written it myself.
Here’s a great question that was raised by a comment on our site: where have First Families traditionally spent Christmas?
It’s been noted that both Reagan and George W. Bush spent Christmas at the White House or Camp David, so that the agents protecting them could keep relatively normal schedules and be with their families on the holidays.
The Utopias, of course, are heading to Hawaii for Christmas, at great public expense flying Air Force One thousands of miles away on the taxpayer dime, and renting a $4,000 a night, giant mansion for them to play around in when the White House and Camp David are already bought and paid for by the public.
Their jetting off on an expensive taxpayer funded trip to Hawaii wouldn’t be quite so offensive if his family were actually still there… and since they can drag her family around on our dime too, why not head to Hawaii? It’s cold and dreary in Chicago right now, and not much better in DC. They probably believe that those Secret Service agents are so flattered to be in such an “unprecedented” and “historic” administration that they are glad to be away from their families during the holidays.
Besides, it’s been months since we’ve seen his glistening pecs and her fantastic arms!
What recession, right?
We honestly don’t know what the Clintons, George H. W. Bushes, Carters, Fords, Nixons, Johnsons, Kennedys, Eisenhowers, or Roosevelts did for Christmas, or where they spent it.
It might be a fun research project today and tomorrow to figure this out.
We never knew the Reagans decided to stay at the White House so they wouldn’t inconvenience the staff with a vacation during holidays…but it doesn’t surprise us at all that Reagan was decent and kind enough not to tear moms and dads away from their kids to do their duty when he didn’t need to.
And, frankly, it really doesn’t surprise us the Utopias gleefully abuse every perk afforded them. This is the woman who, after all, has been given everything she ever dreamed of and, yet, still asks “What are you getting me for Christmas? You should feel pressure” on national television.
Hope!
Change!
Me Me Me!
To be fair, I looked up the other Presidents as well. Most of them stayed in DC or Camp David to help their staff members stay close to their families. The Kennedy's the Bushes,the Eisenhowers, the Rooseveldt's the Reagans.
I am just glad that I was able to pull this off of somebody else's website - because I'd be tarred and feathered if I had written it myself.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
fireflies
This song is mommy and my favorite song. But I know the words better than she does. You should listen to it right now, I think you will like it.
Kooka
Kooka
Friday, December 18, 2009
merry cheesemas
It is one of our many many holiday traditions.
And if you've ever tasted one - consider yourself lucky. Just how lucky, I didn't even realize until this year.
Of course I am talking about CHEESBALLS!
They have been a Christmas tradition since I was a 4th grader, and it is one that both Punk and Kooka say they want to share with their own kids someday.
There is much love and time and mess that goes into our Christmas concoctions. Kooka loves the grating and squishing. Punk loves the grating, squishing and nibbling. I love everyone being together laughing and happy. Everybody wins.
Well, not everybody.
I was informed this year, that due to our limited supply of cheesey goodness, a person must be deemed "cheesball worthy" to receive one. Punk and Kooka claim it's an honor to make the list.
Qualifications include: being a blood relative (DNA samples required), or being in general someone who has made no attempt whatsoever to piss off Punk or Kooka throughout the entire year. It helps if you have lobbied for this cheeseball throughout the past twelve months by sucking up, telling them how smart they are, giving them candy, piggy back rides, or reading long stories to them.
If you don't fall into one of those categories you better get working on next year. Our freezer full of cheese is dwindling.
The two best parts - squishing and nibbling.
And if you've ever tasted one - consider yourself lucky. Just how lucky, I didn't even realize until this year.
Of course I am talking about CHEESBALLS!
They have been a Christmas tradition since I was a 4th grader, and it is one that both Punk and Kooka say they want to share with their own kids someday.
There is much love and time and mess that goes into our Christmas concoctions. Kooka loves the grating and squishing. Punk loves the grating, squishing and nibbling. I love everyone being together laughing and happy. Everybody wins.
Well, not everybody.
I was informed this year, that due to our limited supply of cheesey goodness, a person must be deemed "cheesball worthy" to receive one. Punk and Kooka claim it's an honor to make the list.
Qualifications include: being a blood relative (DNA samples required), or being in general someone who has made no attempt whatsoever to piss off Punk or Kooka throughout the entire year. It helps if you have lobbied for this cheeseball throughout the past twelve months by sucking up, telling them how smart they are, giving them candy, piggy back rides, or reading long stories to them.
If you don't fall into one of those categories you better get working on next year. Our freezer full of cheese is dwindling.
The two best parts - squishing and nibbling.
christmas program
Here are the long awaited photos of the Christmas program.
Punk was a nearly perfect Joseph in his camoflauge robe and pillowcase do-rag. He stood in front of the church smiling dutifully at the baby Jesus for over a half-an-hour. Only occasionally did he channel his inner Cher by flipping said pillowcase over one shoulder, then the other. Though neither he, nor his new wife could have been too enamored with the baby, since they left him sitting alone in the manger as they exited the church.
Kooka was a lovely little something-or-other. She sang beautifully, but I am still not sure what exactly it is that she was supposed to be. All I know is that I was less worried last year, when she was a sheep. This time around she looked like she was going to be sold to the highest bidder.
Punk was a nearly perfect Joseph in his camoflauge robe and pillowcase do-rag. He stood in front of the church smiling dutifully at the baby Jesus for over a half-an-hour. Only occasionally did he channel his inner Cher by flipping said pillowcase over one shoulder, then the other. Though neither he, nor his new wife could have been too enamored with the baby, since they left him sitting alone in the manger as they exited the church.
Kooka was a lovely little something-or-other. She sang beautifully, but I am still not sure what exactly it is that she was supposed to be. All I know is that I was less worried last year, when she was a sheep. This time around she looked like she was going to be sold to the highest bidder.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
slacker
My aunt with the Texas accent and no snow to shovel, recently brought to my attention, that I am doing a rather crappy job of updating this blog lately.
Therfore I feel compelled to post something - even if it is not all that interesting.
Our week started out with a snowstorm. Of course the professor was out of town - he's always conveniently out of town when it snows. And within days someone invariably asks him how he's liking Minnesota, and he says, "I don't understand why everybody says the winters are so hard . . .we have WET snow out east . . ."
Wet schmet.
Our dry snow was plenty challenge for Punk and Kooka and I. Thankfully I had a headmaster's holiday on the day of the storm, and didn't have to go to school. It took the three of us FIVE HOURS to shovel the driveway. Granted, we had two pair of decent gloves and three $4.99 shovels between us - but STILL. We just managed to get it cleared out when the snowplow came through and covered us up again. Somehow, Punk and I mustered enough energy to clear it off so the professor to pull his van in when he returned from the airport.
And right now, Punk and Kook are working on the world's biggest snowfort in our yard. Gotta go.
Therfore I feel compelled to post something - even if it is not all that interesting.
Our week started out with a snowstorm. Of course the professor was out of town - he's always conveniently out of town when it snows. And within days someone invariably asks him how he's liking Minnesota, and he says, "I don't understand why everybody says the winters are so hard . . .we have WET snow out east . . ."
Wet schmet.
Our dry snow was plenty challenge for Punk and Kooka and I. Thankfully I had a headmaster's holiday on the day of the storm, and didn't have to go to school. It took the three of us FIVE HOURS to shovel the driveway. Granted, we had two pair of decent gloves and three $4.99 shovels between us - but STILL. We just managed to get it cleared out when the snowplow came through and covered us up again. Somehow, Punk and I mustered enough energy to clear it off so the professor to pull his van in when he returned from the airport.
And right now, Punk and Kook are working on the world's biggest snowfort in our yard. Gotta go.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
getting married
Somebody in our family is getting hitched next weekend.
It isn't me.
It is Punk.
He's becoming a father as well.
The only reason I am not alarmed is because the whole thing happened through immaculate conception.
If you want to catch Punk as Joseph next Sunday - make sure you come to the 10:45 service at our church.
If there is any typecasting going on, Kooka will undoubtedly be portraying one of the census workers.
It isn't me.
It is Punk.
He's becoming a father as well.
The only reason I am not alarmed is because the whole thing happened through immaculate conception.
If you want to catch Punk as Joseph next Sunday - make sure you come to the 10:45 service at our church.
If there is any typecasting going on, Kooka will undoubtedly be portraying one of the census workers.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
grinch
Kooka and I have never been Obama fans anyway, but now that he is the "Grinch who stole Charlie Brown's Christmas" - we are even more disgusted. (I won't even mention what Punk had to say.)
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