The day started off great. I left the office early because I’d been up since 2:30a.m. My plan was to come home and binge on The Office – Season 7 before taking a nap. That’s exactly what I did. Except, on my way home, I stopped at a vape shop and bought a vape kit. After I had my fill of Steve Carell and vape, I paused the television and closed my eyes. I had about an hour to kill before it was time to pick up my son.
I awoke from my nap refreshed. I was ready to give complete love and attention to the four-year-old that I waited to see all day. I grabbed my keys, started my car, and grooved to music as I drove down the street.
I felt euphoric as I approached the building. But when I stopped by the director’s office to sign him out, I knew things wouldn’t be so pleasant. My son stood next to the director with his head bowed. Tears stained his chunky cheeks. The director sat in her chair, solemn, but happy to see me. She turned to me and said, “He hit three staff members because he was denied swing access during outdoor playtime.”
We’ve been in this situation before. I couldn’t understand it. I stood in her doorway, looking at my son with frustration and I thought, “Lord, give me strength.”
Damn, three staff members? The scenario played humorously in my mind. This four-year-old walked to grown folk and whopped them one at a time. A whop for you. A whop for you. And you, come here, a whop for you!
Then the director tells me that he popped her too!
Lord, hurry on that strength!
I stood in her doorway in bewilderment. I cocked my head to the side and squinted my eyes a little. He bowed his head even further, his chin nearly touched the bottom of his chest. But I cannot fake as if I’m some sort of super mom, I allowed the director to continue to correct him.
I like being mommy, not parent. I’m normally the fun-loving parent that likes to keep her stress-o-meter at lower levels. I sort of envy mothers that can jump that scale so quickly. So in that moment, I wanted to tell her, “I’ll go back home and let my husband pick him up. You can tell him what happened.”
When we got home, we talked about what it means to be a nice person and he got a spanking. I made him call his father and tell him what he did. I didn’t allow him to watch TV nor play with his toys, which meant I was also banned from the television. We made small talk and ate with the radio playing softly in the background. Then, I gave him crayons and a coloring book until bedtime.
I just laid him down as I finished up this blog, but he’s fully aware that daddy is on his way home to dish out another lecture and spanking. In a few minutes, I’m going to vape and try to find a good movie on Netflix.