The Politics of Kindergarten--and The Return of the Bulge?

Summer played trucks with Charlie before school this morning. After Summer's school bus pulled away, Charlie said, "I want Summer back!"

In lieu of chasing the bus down the street and then pounding on the window of the school like Dustin Hofman in The Graduate, Charlie and I went to Starbucks to meet Lisa, another kindergarten mom. Lisa's daughter has juvenile diabetes, and every day is like a life or death situation--I'm not exaggerating. It's awful. She has to have her specific snacks at specific times and the nurse has to check her blood sugar and Lisa's cell phone rings all day with the results. This afternoon they were going in to Boston for an appointment. We talked about how they can't come to the ice cream social because it would just be torture for her little girl. She told me about how she and her older daughter had sneaked off to Dunkin' Donuts one evening, and how guilty she felt about it. This disease has turned this family's life upside down.

Then Charlie and I went to music class, where he danced, clapped, and played the drums--the embodiment of joy. On the way out of class I noticed a small bump on his little ear--soft, fluid-filled, on the top in the front--exactly like the old angry red bulge. I poked it and rubbed it, and his ear turned all red. My heart began pounding. I immediately lost the perspective I'd drunk in with my decaf gingerbread latte an hour earlier. Not the red bulge! What if he gets a huge fever again! What if they have to do emergency surgery!

It's like I'm not even an adult or something.

I called the ear doctor--the ear doctor we saw yesterday. By the time her assistant called me back, I was doubting myself. "I could be making it up," I said. "Maybe it was just red because I was playing with it." The assistant offered to call in a prescription for antibiotics. "You can call me back tomorrow, or even later today, if you decide you want them," she said.

At 4:30 p.m. Charlie's ear still looked red so I did just that. I called from the library, where we were enjoying a special Nutcracker story hour with costumed dancers from the local ballet production.

I'd invited Summer's ballet friend Veronika--who is also in her kindergarten class--to join us at the story hour. We brought Mia, and we saw another ballet friend there, as well as our old friend Sylvia. Veronika brought a drawing she'd made for Summer. All five girls sat on the floor together, but Summer and Mia had some momentum from the afternoon together, and Veronika's mom--the one who'd told me about the mean girl leaving preschool--looked on with displeasure. "I guess Veronika's the third wheel today," she said to me sourly.

"I thought it would be OK, since it's a public event and not a playdate at our house," I said calmly. Veronika came over to our house once before, and we had to send Mia home because Summer can't really handle playing with two kids at once. It feels like pressure to her, to make sure everyone has enough attention.

Five or ten minutes later, with Mia off getting a drink of water or something, Summer and Veronika stood in front of the dancer in the Clara costume, asking her questions and telling her about their own ballet class. Veronika's mom turned to me looking stricken and said, "I'm sorry I said that, that was rude." I said, "It's OK, it's like you said, they're just kids." What I meant was not that kids bully and we have to accept that. What I meant was that they are just five years old and we can't expect them to act like adults when even the adults--including, or especially, me--can't figure out how to behave.

Comments

[Michele]

You do know how to behave. Of course you freaked out about his ear, you have all been through a lot and it's tough to think of the stuff that could happen in the future. We all second guess ourselves, even when it's about things as easy as sore throats and a possible fever let alone something like Charlie's ear. So, give yourself a break...you're a GREAT mother with fab kids!