T is for Trainwreck

Last week, I think it's safe to say, was a week of train wreck proportions. The gratitude list was non-existent, tears were shed, phone calls were made, children were threatened, and Casa Carpool was not a happy place. I am almost embarrassed to say that it was potentially the worst second week of school ever. Ever.

Let's recap, shall we?
Monday - Failed to sign child's agenda in correct place. Gentle slapdown from teacher, since surely I should be getting with the program by now. Child does not receive credit due to parental error.

Tuesday - The hitting incident of 2007. Calls received from different school parties scare crap out of parents. The yet undisclosed Bead Incident, requiring new & surgical uses for the smallest crochet hook in my bag.

Wednesday - Visit to the principal's office for the Hitter, along with much wailing and gnashing of teeth while writing the apology letter. Drinking begins in earnest.

Thursday - Eye doctor visit for Kate almost ends with child beatdown during the exam. Fortunately for all involved, I have perfected my "under the breath" scolding and stealth death grip, so social services was not called. It is perhaps karmic justice that when I put my own glasses on, they break in half, not even to be salvaged by nerd tape. To further the day, the other boy causes a call to poison control as he "helps" me by taking 3x the amount of antibiotics he is prescribed. Child-proof cap, my arse.

Friday - More visible beat down by teacher as I discover that not only has the other boy not been a model student, he has been spectacularly un-model, and has caused his very strict teacher some serious heartburn. More drinking ensues, along with wailing and gnashing of teeth as parents discuss their military school options.

Add in a small health crisis (mine), more newspaper coverage than my poor husband can stand, and some extended family drama, and we were so ready for a three day weekend. I have never seen a perfect storm quite like this - only Kate came out unscathed, and even she had a brief brush with the lunch money police. It's remarkable how our entire day turns on what behavior color our children have earned - if they're green, I can call my husband and tell him. If they are at the bottom of the scale, I avoid his calls so that he can get through the rest of the workday.

But this week, this week will be better. We've adopted a new "no yelling" policy that should help everyone (and give you an indication of just how much yelling occurred). The heat has started to break, and things are settling in. Soccer starts soon to burn off some of that frustration, and I've restocked the liquor cabinet just in case.

Our motto for this week? "Just don't leave a visible mark."

And yes, I know that there are letters between M & T - believe me when I tell you that right now, the things I can think of for them are well worth skipping. Sample entries include Nausea, Oh my he IS the worst behaved child ever, Public School : The threats our parents make, Removal of foreign objects from the nose, and Sucky behavior modification tactics. Hopefully "U" will be "Unbelievable turnaround", but I'm not betting on it.