Dad on duty #67

This is actually a compilation of a couple of days.

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted. Sorry. Been busy and distracted.

But this conversation matters, and I need to prioritize it. I’ll try to do better.

So here we go.

********
Hugs.

I really noticed the Bobby hugs today. I can’t see or hear much outta that damn suit.

But I can see and hear the kids rushing toward me shouting “Bobby!”, with genuine joy and abandon, to wrap their arms around me and squeeze as hard as they can.

Some kids hug, some just want to high-five….a rare few ignore Bobby (trying to be cool). For the most part, the huggers are dominated by the little kids and the high-fivers are the big kids.

But, surprisingly, every so often a big kid rushes up and squeezes me like I owe him money. I am acutely aware of the sense of need in those kids; something is going on, and a big fuzzy hug is part of what they need.

*********
One of our kids has suffered trauma as a baby and young child. That experience fundamentally changes the way kids brains work. In general, we (not me…I don’t get it at all….I mean “science” and “society”) are just beginning to understand this issue, and the extent to which it affects behavior.

For this child, one of the symptoms is poor emotional control. If he gets upset, he spirals down into an angry, crying mess. He can’t stop it, and he can’t recover from it on his own. We’re trying to teach him both those skills, but we’re a long way away yet.

The Boss has him in the hallway. They are sitting together on the floor. He’s sobbing and struggling to talk. The Boss is getting him calmed down to some extent, but they’re kinda stuck.

I drop down with them. We’re all squatting in the hallway now, talking quietly. This kid has helped me a few times with various projects and chores, and seemed to enjoy it (and did really well). So I throw in the only helpful idea I have to offer: “you want to help me pass out some of the new textbooks?” After a few minutes of talking he finally says “yes”.

At this point, we’re ready to finish the meeting. Our boy pops up, ready to get to work. The Boss does something brilliant; she reaches her hand out to him and says “Help me up. You know I can’t get up from here without your help”. He smiles warmly and grabs her hand, lifting her up. It made him feel needed, and strong, and made her seem intimately human.

We head off to tackle the text books (which I don’t even understand….why do we even have actual paper textbooks anymore?). He does great and, and I believe, had a really good afternoon overall.

*******
Mid-morning, Deb calls me on the radio to tell me that the panic button has been activated in an upstairs room. It’s a room that’s only used part-time, and no one is answering the phone when she calls.

One of our challenging kids is in that vicinity, so my initial assumption is that he hit the button.

I start walking that direction. But then I think; what if it’s not him? What if there’s a real problem in that room? I occurs to me that’s a real, however remote, possibility. And I’m trained fundamentally to rule out the worst thing first, then work down to the more benign and common causes.

It’s pretty far from where I am now. I step it up. I’m moving fast now, approaching the stairs. Tori’s class is sitting on the learning stairs. I blast past them, taking two stairs at a time. Tori says “Hi”. I obligingly turn and smile and wave, like a sitcom character. Blowing through another line of 3rd graders, I arrive at the room. To find our kid, by himself, grinning.

Actually, I’m glad. Relieved. We have a chat.

**********
I messed up pretty bad today.

A female scholar that I know fairly well is walking by. Sometimes she seems a little disconnected and unhappy. Today seems to be one of those days.

I decide to be extra friendly to her and grab her out of line to give her a hug. As I’m hugging her, I say “you’re so squishy!” She spins around and looks shocked. “’Squishy’?” she asks incredulously.

I mean to say “squeezable”. But I didn’t. I said “squishy”.

To a young woman on the verge of adolescence, “squishy” is not a flattering term. She’s hurt.

I try to backpedal: “I meant squeezy!” She’s not convinced. She moves away from me, glaring.

Way to go, Dad of The Year.

****************
Emotional control is always a challenge for kids this age. For boys, it’s especially anger that sometimes overwhelms them.

Some kids much more than others, of course.

One of our boys has been struggling with anger management for the past couple of years. Lately, he’s been doing really well…..I thought.

I’m standing watch near the big glass doors that lead out to the recess area. Suddenly, I hear an explosive “bang” hitting the door.

Our boy has thrown something and hit the door HARD. But that’s not the worse part; the Assistant Principal was standing near the door at the time. The object whizzed past his head and struck the glass with a alarming sound.

I really don’t think he was trying to hit the AP. The boy had an argument with him and threw the object at the wall. But it was awful close to the AP.

That’s a pretty major offense. He’s headed to the office.

I’m standing there in shock. Shock at the violent sound of the object hitting the glass door. And shock that this boy, who had done so well for the past several weeks, would do this at all.

Its 10 steps back in a constant journey that, I hope, is gradually moving forward.

I hope. Right now, I’m not so sure.

********
Later, the AP has to leave. And now, The Boss has to leave too. She’s concerned about no administrators on campus. She asks me: “you think you’ll be OK?” “Yes” I tell her “we’ve got it”.

Four years into this gig, and I think I’ve gotten the confidence of the staff to run the hallway by myself if needed. Now if a real problem pops up…we’re screwed….but we can stall long enough to call a real Boss. (Not really….there are authorized people here to deal with stuff.)

So The Boss basically throws me the keys and heads out.

And, amazingly, your kids made it home in one piece.