Well…today was day 4 of Pre-K.  The morning started out great.  Michael woke up in a great mood, got dressed, ate breakfast, played with some letters and his little brother.  He sang on the way to school and asked me 8 million questions and how to spell a few words, or rather spelled words for me.

I turned left from Main St. onto 10th St. and that is when the devil himself jumped into my 4 year old!  OH. MA. GAWD!

He flipped the eff out!  “I don’t want to go to school!” “I want to go home with you!” “I am not going, never!” “I will go home and take a nap!”

“Michael, you love school!”  Nothing like telling the poor kid how he should feel!  “You get to do letters and play with your friends and…”

Then it turned into blood curdling SCREAMING “I don’t want to go to school!”

I turn into the school parking lot and tell him to hush up and get out we are going to school.  I am a firm believer in teaching kids they need to learn to deal with life. The happy parts and the not so fun parts.   We wake up when our alarms go off, even when we don’t want to.  We go to work, even if we don’t want to.  We clean our rooms and brush our teeth, even if we don’t want to.   Freddy and I really want to instill this lesson to our boys at an early age so that we are not dealing with a 21 year old who should be acting like an adult but instead is jobless and wanting us to support them because they don’t feel like working.  True Story.   But back to my 4 year old…he is screaming and crying.

I have to shut the car door to avoid some of the judgey-judgersons in the parking lot staring in our direction as they prance their little pigtailed princess into school skipping along all happy and good and not screaming…  “Screw you and your snotty looks!’ I think to myself.  “He was happy yesterday!”

I wait several minutes standing outside of my car before I go to the opposite side of the car and retrieve Ryan from the screaming sibling next to him and shut the door again and wait another several minutes.  All the while, I am digging into my brain for something to say to him that will click in his head and get him out of his funk….if you can even call it a funk.

As any good mother does I got down to his level and told him how much I loved him and how we should talk about our feelings and express them in a non-screaming way I threatened to get rid of all the popsicles in the freezer if he didn’t get out of the car!  HAHA!  It worked, out he came, slowly but surely, but still screaming…

I normally do talk with him and it normally works…this was NOT A NORMAL kind of situation.  We were past any stage of normal right now.  I needed divine intervention for this situation.  I needed a Miracle.   I needed MAGIC.

Another 17 minutes later we are at the double doors of the school.  He was taking a step about every 45 seconds.  His teacher saw me and came out and she and I chatted for a few minutes about how he had a great morning and somehow it turned into this and then I just said good-bye to him and left.  I watched her try to talk to him, he refused so she picked him up and took him into school while he was screaming for me.  *SIGH*

I was thankful I was bringing him into a Catholic school because there was bound to be a priest around somewhere who could exorcise this demon from my sweet boy!!!

When I got back into the car I was SWEATING.  Sweating from the exhaustion of reasoning with him and sweating because while all this was taking place I am HOLDING Ryan.  His has the nickname “Chunky Monkey” for a reason!  Arm is still tingling!

I got a phone call from his teacher about 5 minutes later that he did indeed calm down and the teacher’s aide in his class mentioned his friend Jacob and that’s when Michael told her that yesterday they bumped into each other on the playground (which the teacher’s aide saw) and then Michael told his teacher that Jacob hit him (which his teacher’s aide did not see).  The two boys talked and hugged and apparently all was well. His teacher also reminded Michael that he could tell her things like that and that is not considered tattling.

When I walked up to the doors to wait for Michael to be dismissed after school today, I was not sure what to expect.  Out he came and his teacher gave me the “Perfect/A-OK” sign and sent him over to me.  After he hugged me and hugged and kissed his little brother he was talking to some of his friends, his teacher came over and told me he honestly had a perfect day and did great and she hopes it was just a fluke.  She offered many attempts at explanations for me:  Maybe because it was Friday?  He is always tired and crabby by Friday.  It was the first week back to school?  We had travelled 10+ hours each way over Labor Day weekend?  Maybe he was just tired.  Maybe he was just mad at Jacob?  I was thinking to myself  “Maybe he was possessed!?”  We will never know.  But I am thankful for his teacher’s patience and understanding and am super thankful she never gave me that judgey-judgerson look!  She told me I did great by walking away and making him stay.  She teaches him and she teaches me!  After a morning like that I appreciated her nice words to me!  Made me feel better for threatening the popsicles :)

I really, really hope we don’t have to do that again on Monday.  Like really, really, really….