Call Your Mother
My girlfriend in ATL called me this evening as I was leaving work. "I was calling to see how you're doing," she said. "Fine," I replied shortly. When she asked how Shorty was doing, I told her, "Not well at the moment," and began to relay this story to her.
Me: Two weeks ago I gave Shorty a key to the house and instructed him to get help from his teacher (who'd offered to help him for free) with his math homework after school (I'd gotten a progress report that his grade had slipped from a C first term to a D- in this one). I gave him that and told him that afterward he had the option of going to the Y to play with his friends or come home and watch t.v. once his homework was done instead of always having to go to the Y. I told him that he was a young man now and needed to take responsibility for his education, but as a reward he would have options on what to do with his time once his work was done. The only condition was that he had to call me at the end of the school day if he was going to the Y so I knew to pick him up.
On the first day, he called me 7 minutes after school let out and said he was going to the Y. I picked him up later and asked him how the tutoring session went. "Great!" he enthusiastically replied. Each day he would tell me he was going to the Y after tutoring. After a week, I asked him if it was helping. "Yes," he firmly replied. "Now I understand everything." I praised him for doing the right thing and told him how mature it was of him that he was getting help with math. I even took him to the movies Saturday and bought him a snack from the concession stand as a way to reward him for his good deeds. Yesterday I sent a message to his math teacher to see if he'd improved after two weeks of tutoring from her. I was floored by her reply.
"I just sent an end of term progress report (he'd gone up from a D- to a D), but I haven't seen him after school. Who's he been getting help from?" I wrote back and told her that I'd speak with Shorty about it in the evening and that she should expect him after school today. I then immediately sent a text to his daddy, "Pls call. Urgent!"
He called back a couple of minutes later and I informed him of the situation. "So what are you going to do?" he helplessly asked. "I don't know. That's why I called you!" I said with frustration. "Is he with you now?" he asked. "No, but we'll be home at 5:30," I said with my mind racing. "I'll call you guys at 5:30," he promised.
I then left work, skipped my planned workout at the Y, and picked Shorty up. On the ride home, I asked him the routine question, "Did you go for tutoring today?"
"Yes," he said.
"How was it?" I inquired.
"It was fine. I understand what's going on," he said.
"How many times have you gone now?" I asked, giving him enough rope to hang himself.
"About 10 times or so," he lied.
"How's your grade now?" I probed.
"I don't know. I think it's up to a C," he said convincingly.
"How many other kids are getting help?" I said with my blood nearly at a boil.
"It depends," he said.
"So we can play this game all night or you can tell me the truth," I managed to say without exploding as I turned the corner to our home. He finally admitted that he hadn't gone at all.
I silently got out of the car and entered the house. I just didn't know what to say or how to punish him. My mind was reeling at the thought of my son having lied to me for two weeks straight with no remorse. I couldn't believe that I'd had no idea where my child was after school for two weeks! I needed a game plan, and I didn't have one.
ATL GF: So he didn't apologize for lying?!
Me: No! So I asked him why he didn't get the help I told him to get and he said, "Because I didn't think I needed help." "But you have a damn D!" I replied.
ATL GF: Maybe he was worried about looking dumb for getting help.
Me: I told him he looked dumb for not getting help! Isn't that what D stands for: Damn Dumb D!
ATL GF: So what did you do?
Me: I asked him why he lied to me and he said, "Because I thought I'd get in trouble for not going." I told him that I would have been disappointed that he didn't go but I was angry because he lied to me.
ATL GF: He's just going through a phase. They all go through it. My brother went through it.
Me: Yeah, it seems to be an annual thing. When he went through it last year, I had a stress lump on the back of my head the size of a grape. [I then thought to myself...that's when I decided to go to Paris for his spring break last year!] I was so angry today that I broke out into a rash all over my torso!
ATL GF: So then what did you do?
Me: I told him that I couldn't live with a liar. I told him that if he'll lie he'll cheat, if he'll cheat he'll steal, and if he'll steal he'll kill, and I couldn't live with a murderer. I told him I was going to call family services and have them pick him up! I was so through! I made him pack his sh!t up last night.
ATL GF: Now you didn't really mean that.
Me: Oh yes I did! In fact, I sent him to bed without dinner because I couldn't stand to look at him anymore. So when I woke up this morning and he was gone, I called work to tell them I was going to be late, went to the school, picked him up and went down to family services. I told the woman that I wanted to put him in a foster home until his father chose to come get him. She told me that I couldn't do that because he was my responsibility, blah blah blah. She said the only reason they could take him was if he'd been abused. "So, the only way you're going to take him is if I beat the crap out of him, because that's what's going to happen if he comes home with me. I guess I'll just have to beat him and call you back!"
ATL GF: She must've never seen an angry black woman before. Yeah, it's Iowa...she didn't realize you were serious. So what are you going to do?
Me: When we get home, I'll drink a Heineken, beat the crap out of him, and then call child protective services so they'll come get him!
ATL GF: Come on now, think about this. Do you really want CPS to pick him up?
Me: YESSS!
ATL GF: Really?!
Me: YESSS! This is like the Michael Jackson interview with Ed Bradley. EB: "Michael, do you really think it's okay for a 40 year old man to sleep in the same bed with small boys?" MJ: "YESSS!"
ATL GF: Well, where is he now?
Me: Right here!
ATL GF: Are you trying to scare him?
Me: YESSS! Look, enough about him. He's already sucked up enough attention for a lifetime. What's up with you? How are your Italy trip plans coming along.
My ATL GF then proceeded to tell me about her upcoming trip to Italy. She mentioned a few spots in Rome and asked for a recommendation on a place to stay. I gave her some and told her I wanted to run away from home. She asked me how my Christmas and New Year's was, if I'd gone home over the holidays, and if I had any trips planned for this year, "world traveler that you are" she added at the end. I told her I had gone home for the holidays and relayed a watered down version of my holiday experience. I told her that I just today decided I was going to Albuquerque [I've always wanted to take that left turn and last night I thought I should've taken a right at motherhood instead of the left I'm now living with] for a long weekend while Shorty's with his dad for spring break. I then told her that as I was searching the net for ideas on how to deal with the situation and get-away's for single mom's I happened upon a bed and breakfast that has a spa package for moms, but was then distracted as I tried to find the hardware department at Wally World (you know, the daily trip).
Me (absent-mindedly): I may have to go to Menard's tonight and I really don't want to.
ATL GF: Menard's...what's that?
Me: It's a hardware store.
ATL GF: A hardware store...are you buying locks?!
Me: YESSS! Now I have to change the locks on the guest room and basement to lock up the t.v.'s. I'll also have to put a time lock on the computer and the cable. How'd you know I was buying locks?
ATL GF: I don't know. Something about your tone and the angry black woman thing. You can always tell an angry black woman when she mentions a hardware store and screwdrivers and drills and stuff. It's like she's on a mission. It sounds like you're in the middle of something, so I'll call you later to see how you're doing.
I've just finished my Heineken (I didn't beat him, I just lectured him) and finished locking up all the sources of entertainment in our home that my son enjoys. I've written instructions on what he's supposed to do at the end of each school day when he gets home. I've even written on a yellow post-it and will put it on the computer screen when I'm done with this blog entry: "I've already locked the computer, t.v.'s, & taken the phone cords. Now, get back to work! Mom." I know he'll hate me for all of this, especially when he finds the note and wonders "How'd she know?!" as he's thinking of ways to get around me. The only thing that keeps me going (and helps the rash on my torso recede) is in 20 years he'll understand why.
Note to self: I need to call my mother.
Me: Two weeks ago I gave Shorty a key to the house and instructed him to get help from his teacher (who'd offered to help him for free) with his math homework after school (I'd gotten a progress report that his grade had slipped from a C first term to a D- in this one). I gave him that and told him that afterward he had the option of going to the Y to play with his friends or come home and watch t.v. once his homework was done instead of always having to go to the Y. I told him that he was a young man now and needed to take responsibility for his education, but as a reward he would have options on what to do with his time once his work was done. The only condition was that he had to call me at the end of the school day if he was going to the Y so I knew to pick him up.
On the first day, he called me 7 minutes after school let out and said he was going to the Y. I picked him up later and asked him how the tutoring session went. "Great!" he enthusiastically replied. Each day he would tell me he was going to the Y after tutoring. After a week, I asked him if it was helping. "Yes," he firmly replied. "Now I understand everything." I praised him for doing the right thing and told him how mature it was of him that he was getting help with math. I even took him to the movies Saturday and bought him a snack from the concession stand as a way to reward him for his good deeds. Yesterday I sent a message to his math teacher to see if he'd improved after two weeks of tutoring from her. I was floored by her reply.
"I just sent an end of term progress report (he'd gone up from a D- to a D), but I haven't seen him after school. Who's he been getting help from?" I wrote back and told her that I'd speak with Shorty about it in the evening and that she should expect him after school today. I then immediately sent a text to his daddy, "Pls call. Urgent!"
He called back a couple of minutes later and I informed him of the situation. "So what are you going to do?" he helplessly asked. "I don't know. That's why I called you!" I said with frustration. "Is he with you now?" he asked. "No, but we'll be home at 5:30," I said with my mind racing. "I'll call you guys at 5:30," he promised.
I then left work, skipped my planned workout at the Y, and picked Shorty up. On the ride home, I asked him the routine question, "Did you go for tutoring today?"
"Yes," he said.
"How was it?" I inquired.
"It was fine. I understand what's going on," he said.
"How many times have you gone now?" I asked, giving him enough rope to hang himself.
"About 10 times or so," he lied.
"How's your grade now?" I probed.
"I don't know. I think it's up to a C," he said convincingly.
"How many other kids are getting help?" I said with my blood nearly at a boil.
"It depends," he said.
"So we can play this game all night or you can tell me the truth," I managed to say without exploding as I turned the corner to our home. He finally admitted that he hadn't gone at all.
I silently got out of the car and entered the house. I just didn't know what to say or how to punish him. My mind was reeling at the thought of my son having lied to me for two weeks straight with no remorse. I couldn't believe that I'd had no idea where my child was after school for two weeks! I needed a game plan, and I didn't have one.
ATL GF: So he didn't apologize for lying?!
Me: No! So I asked him why he didn't get the help I told him to get and he said, "Because I didn't think I needed help." "But you have a damn D!" I replied.
ATL GF: Maybe he was worried about looking dumb for getting help.
Me: I told him he looked dumb for not getting help! Isn't that what D stands for: Damn Dumb D!
ATL GF: So what did you do?
Me: I asked him why he lied to me and he said, "Because I thought I'd get in trouble for not going." I told him that I would have been disappointed that he didn't go but I was angry because he lied to me.
ATL GF: He's just going through a phase. They all go through it. My brother went through it.
Me: Yeah, it seems to be an annual thing. When he went through it last year, I had a stress lump on the back of my head the size of a grape. [I then thought to myself...that's when I decided to go to Paris for his spring break last year!] I was so angry today that I broke out into a rash all over my torso!
ATL GF: So then what did you do?
Me: I told him that I couldn't live with a liar. I told him that if he'll lie he'll cheat, if he'll cheat he'll steal, and if he'll steal he'll kill, and I couldn't live with a murderer. I told him I was going to call family services and have them pick him up! I was so through! I made him pack his sh!t up last night.
ATL GF: Now you didn't really mean that.
Me: Oh yes I did! In fact, I sent him to bed without dinner because I couldn't stand to look at him anymore. So when I woke up this morning and he was gone, I called work to tell them I was going to be late, went to the school, picked him up and went down to family services. I told the woman that I wanted to put him in a foster home until his father chose to come get him. She told me that I couldn't do that because he was my responsibility, blah blah blah. She said the only reason they could take him was if he'd been abused. "So, the only way you're going to take him is if I beat the crap out of him, because that's what's going to happen if he comes home with me. I guess I'll just have to beat him and call you back!"
ATL GF: She must've never seen an angry black woman before. Yeah, it's Iowa...she didn't realize you were serious. So what are you going to do?
Me: When we get home, I'll drink a Heineken, beat the crap out of him, and then call child protective services so they'll come get him!
ATL GF: Come on now, think about this. Do you really want CPS to pick him up?
Me: YESSS!
ATL GF: Really?!
Me: YESSS! This is like the Michael Jackson interview with Ed Bradley. EB: "Michael, do you really think it's okay for a 40 year old man to sleep in the same bed with small boys?" MJ: "YESSS!"
ATL GF: Well, where is he now?
Me: Right here!
ATL GF: Are you trying to scare him?
Me: YESSS! Look, enough about him. He's already sucked up enough attention for a lifetime. What's up with you? How are your Italy trip plans coming along.
My ATL GF then proceeded to tell me about her upcoming trip to Italy. She mentioned a few spots in Rome and asked for a recommendation on a place to stay. I gave her some and told her I wanted to run away from home. She asked me how my Christmas and New Year's was, if I'd gone home over the holidays, and if I had any trips planned for this year, "world traveler that you are" she added at the end. I told her I had gone home for the holidays and relayed a watered down version of my holiday experience. I told her that I just today decided I was going to Albuquerque [I've always wanted to take that left turn and last night I thought I should've taken a right at motherhood instead of the left I'm now living with] for a long weekend while Shorty's with his dad for spring break. I then told her that as I was searching the net for ideas on how to deal with the situation and get-away's for single mom's I happened upon a bed and breakfast that has a spa package for moms, but was then distracted as I tried to find the hardware department at Wally World (you know, the daily trip).
Me (absent-mindedly): I may have to go to Menard's tonight and I really don't want to.
ATL GF: Menard's...what's that?
Me: It's a hardware store.
ATL GF: A hardware store...are you buying locks?!
Me: YESSS! Now I have to change the locks on the guest room and basement to lock up the t.v.'s. I'll also have to put a time lock on the computer and the cable. How'd you know I was buying locks?
ATL GF: I don't know. Something about your tone and the angry black woman thing. You can always tell an angry black woman when she mentions a hardware store and screwdrivers and drills and stuff. It's like she's on a mission. It sounds like you're in the middle of something, so I'll call you later to see how you're doing.
I've just finished my Heineken (I didn't beat him, I just lectured him) and finished locking up all the sources of entertainment in our home that my son enjoys. I've written instructions on what he's supposed to do at the end of each school day when he gets home. I've even written on a yellow post-it and will put it on the computer screen when I'm done with this blog entry: "I've already locked the computer, t.v.'s, & taken the phone cords. Now, get back to work! Mom." I know he'll hate me for all of this, especially when he finds the note and wonders "How'd she know?!" as he's thinking of ways to get around me. The only thing that keeps me going (and helps the rash on my torso recede) is in 20 years he'll understand why.
Note to self: I need to call my mother.
posted by N'j at 7:05 PM
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