Scrolling through Instagram recently, I came across a post that bothered me so much, I have to address it here.
It was from a mom who said that her daughter told her, “Yesterday I played with a really nice black girl,” and the mom was mortified, and commented that she’d failed as a parent.
She replied to her daughter, “That’s not nice,” and then admitted that her daughter was confused by this comment from her mom.
Something happened recently that has me freaked out a bit over what could have happened. I want to share it with you, not to be exploitative, but to bring awareness.
And because writing about things is how I “deal.”
Not that this is about me.
My 8-year-old son and I went to my favorite place in the whole wide world (Target, of course) to buy materials we needed for a school project. My child had to, of course, use the bathroom, because using bathrooms in every store we visit is his most passionate hobby, so I waited by the registers for him to come out.
He came out of the bathroom and told me that something weird had happened.
When our oldest son, who turns 20 in a few weeks, was in elementary school, we were asked to fill out a form at the end of each year, indicating which teacher we wanted him to have for the next school year.
There were other questions on the form, too, where you could give more information about your kid’s personality and their learning style, which the committee would take into consideration when setting class rosters.
They might still do this. I’m not sure.
It’s a nice gesture toward the parents, and I’m sure the school administrators found it helpful when they were putting the classes together.
I remember that early each school year, there would be rumblings from parents who didn’t get the teacher they put as their first choice. And sometimes they wouldn’t get their second or third choice, either.
Aah, the things we get riled up about. 🤷
Did you know I used to be a teacher? I taught 8th graders and I loved being in the classroom so much! I got out of teaching when I was on maternity leave with my youngest son. I was in denial most of my pregnancy with him about having to leave him at daycare after maternity leave was over, so I put off the daycare search until the last minute.
By the time I got my head together, all the daycares in our area had a waitlist, so I was pretty much screwed.
I spent the last few weeks of my pregnancy freaking right the eff out because the only “daycare” with availability was one of those places you see on the evening news, with crooked shutters and names that start with a K in klever - ahem, clever - ways. Ack!!
It’s been about a month since my oldest was home from college for the holidays, so I checked in on him last week with a phone call that went like this:
Me: Hey, baby, whatcha doing?
18: Walking over to get some food.
Me: Oh ok, so you can talk for a sec - how were your classes today?
18: I haven’t had them, yet. They’re later today - one’s at 1:50 and the other isn’t until 6.
Me: UMM, IT’S 1:54!!
18: Oh.
Let me update you.
My teenager asked if he could stay home from school this morning because - get this - he didn’t have any clean clothes, and he even went so far as to say, “...because you didn’t do my laundry.”
But yesterday - as a favor - I offered to throw some of his things into the washing machine, and he of course jumped on-board.
Let me start by first saying that the title of this post is not meant to discourage you from putting a 504 Plan into place for your child. In fact, we have one in place for our son.
The purpose of this post is to help parents understand “the system” and become aware that these services exist.
But also to make sure you & your child understand what the Plan’s purpose is: to give them equal access to an education, and what its purpose is not: to give them less work or to get them out of certain classes or assignments. Although the accommodations might cut their work load down or allow them out of certain classes or assignments.
An awkward and alarming email came through from my son's teacher last week, saying he'd been caught stealing cookies in the lunch line, and could I talk to him because it seemed a bit out of character.
I assured her I'd speak to him right away because - as I mentioned to her - everyone knows that stealing cookies in the lunch line is the first step toward a lifelong pattern of crime. One minute, your kid's pinching a few cookies, then you blink, and they're all grown up, showing colors and throwing gang signs.
Before I could get to the bottom of my kid's new hobby as a shoplifter, I visited with one of the other moms* waiting for our kids after school. I mentioned my sadness and concern over my child's dark turn toward crime, feeling like she couldn't possibly understand my strife.
I challenged myself (because that's what I need, is another challenge in my life) to write a blog post every single day for a month. Then I took it down a notch (because I'm all about lowering my own standards), deciding instead to write a post every single day - Monday through Friday - for a month.
The last 24 hours have been spent brainstorming topic ideas that range from parenting, to how-to's and hacks, to books and product reviews. Nothing's off limits, I'll write about anything (this is a not-so-subtle request for ideas - what do you want to hear me blather on about?)
Y'all. Oh my goodness. A few weeks ago, I submitted an article to Listen To Your Mother, a live production that celebrates motherhood through original readings performed on-stage by their authors.
If you're one of my subscribers, not only are you a superstar, but you got advance notice of my submission during January. You might remember me asking your advice on which article to submit.
The leader, by far, was the one I wrote about my teenager, so that's the one I sent in.
I've had my fingers crossed for weeks, hoping I'd get an invitation to audition, and I got it, I got it! My audition slot is on February 27th, and if I'm selected, I'll perform for a live studio audience on May 7th.
Kristan (Braziel) LeBaron is an author, writer, marketing professional, and the voice of the blog, Bring Mommy A Martini. Mom to two hilarious boys: one in college and the other in middle school, she writes “real mom” stories on life with anxiety & depression, and choosing happiness as a daily practice. She lives outside of Austin with her two sons and two lavishly kept dogs.
