I'm the Mom! Hear me Roar!

It's been forever since I blogged. I wasn't even sure I remembered how to log in. By now, I'm pretty sure the only person who will check in here is my mom. Which is likely why I feel safe blogging my current issue. I'll be venting. Starting now...

I do not like my Clay's homeroom teacher. Shhhhh! It's really important he not know that.

But my husband knows it. Yeah. He's heard it a lot this year.

I put it mostly down to a personality conflict. Seriously, I think she's passionate about her subject and a good teacher in that subject. I do not think she is a good homeroom teacher for my son.

She has this opinion of my son that isn't correct. And that really ticks me off.

Evidently, she thinks when he complains that he doesn't feel well, that he's faking it and just wants to get out of school. Clay has never been that kind of kid. He actually likes school.

Plus, he's a smart kid. And I'm not bragging. He actually baffles me with how smart he tests, because both Bruce and I weren't exceptional students. But Clay is. And other than talking too much in class (THAT he gets from me), he's a well behaved student.

I guess this is the first time I think an adult might actually dislike my son. And I don't get it. So it irritates me.

But that's all side issue.

Clay has not felt well for a few weeks now. Back in January I took him for a strep test that came back negative. He was still given some antibiotics and he felt a bit better after a few days.

A few weeks later, Spencer and Allison were treated for strep.

A week later, Clay complained about a sore throat. By then my throat and eyes had been itching for a week, so I put his symptoms off to early seasonal allergies. We're usually hit with allergies around the same time each year.

Then came his headache.

I sent a note to school for his teacher on a Thursday, asking her to allow him to call me once instructional time was over if he still felt ill. He is finished with math, reading, science and social studies by 1:40 p.m. each day. After that, he has recess and related arts (library, music, art, PE). It's a big deal right now for him to have me pick him up because his little girlfriend rides the same school bus. The very fact that he would give up time with her on the bus ride home in favor of mom picking him up is indicative of how badly he would have to be feeling.

But I didn't hear from him that Thursday and when he got home from school, he was pretty much the same. He asked to stay home the next day. Well, he had five tests. And no fever. Still only a sore throat and a head ache. So I sent him to school and told him to call me after instruction time.

I never heard from him. I figured he'd bounced back and was feeling better.

Still, I went up to the school about 20 minutes before classes were over for the day to see if he wanted to drive home with me and Spencer and Allison. I found him in the gym. Sitting out of class.

As soon as he saw me, he walked over looking pitiful and said he wanted to go home "right now". I was surprised and asked, "You're feeling worse?" He said he was. So I asked why he hadn't called me earlier.

"My teacher wouldn't let me," he said.

And that's when I started getting really mad.

Later that night, after three hours spent at the Urgent Care Clinic to get a positive strep culture result, I was even madder.

I told Bruce I felt like she held my sick kid hostage at the school because she deemed him well enough to make it through the day. That's not her job. That's mine. I'm the mom! I'm the one who knew we'd just been through two cases of strep. She didn't know that.

Here we are a little more than a week later and Clay is still feeling ill. Same complaints. Sore throat and headache. But he's fatigued and lightheaded now, too. Still no fever. I sent him to school today with instructions to call me at 1:40 if he feels worse.

Meanwhile, Allison had been sick Saturday night, so she and I stayed home from church yesterday. No more vomiting though, so I planned to send her to school this morning. But her belly was pretty empty. And often when that happens to my kids, they get nauseated. It's a vicious cycle. So I brought her back home with me after dropping the boys off at school.

After a few hours of eating small bits of food every 45 minutes, she felt better and wanted to go to school. When I took her, I checked in with Clay. No surprise, he wanted to come home. But I told him I wanted him to make it through the day. He asked me to reiterate to his teacher that he be allowed to call me later to get him if necessary.

I did so. And during that conversation I let it be known that Clay's siblings had had strep the week before his last case of strep... when she didn't let him call me to get him. And I let her know that his sister had been sick this past Saturday.

You know I got a phone call at 1:40 p.m., right?

So I picked Clay up. And he's pretty much moped on the couch all day. Tomorrow, I have an appointment to have his blood drawn and have him checked for mono, because it is just one of about five yucky things going around at his school.

But before she let him call me, she felt the need to tell him she has noticed that he always wants to call home right before related arts. Well, duh! He's doing what his mother tells him to do. But she also pointed out that he gets a grade in those classes as well.

I told Clay not to worry about it. When he goes off to college, nobody is going to care what his report card showed for PE in fifth grade.

My kids get plenty of physical education. They also regularly visit the local library. We've had them in either church choir or in piano or guitar lessons since they were about three years old. Art? Yeah, I'll give you that, because I've got nothing there but what they're getting at school.

But ultimately, that is our call as well. If Bruce and I are okay with our kids getting their instruction time when they feel poorly (but aren't exhibiting symptoms that make us think they are contagious and should be home) and missing recess or related arts, that's our business. Not a homeroom teacher's.

We're the parents!

I'm the Mom.

I'm done roaring.

For now.