This morning when I dropped Lily off at school, her teacher grabbed me and asked if we'd talked about what had happened yesterday. I looked at her, confused. She asked if I'd read the note in Lily's notebook where she communicates with us. ''No, her daddy looked at the book.'' ''And did you guys have a talk?'' She called Lily over and told her to tell me what had happened. She didn't. Then her teacher told me that she had run away from her class at lunchtime to join the third-grade boys, and it wasn't the first time. She told me she needed to be punished, that she needs to have boundaries set and I completely agreed. As her teacher walked away, I called Lily over and she bolted into her classroom. I caught her by the backpack and yanked her back out into the hall to talk to me. I asked to see her notebook. She told me to go home and that the bell was gonna ring. I insisted. Then she admitted that she had hidden the note. She actually glued another innocuous note about picture day over the top of it. Seeing my shock she burst into tears. I told her I was gonna show her teacher and she begged me not to. I considered it, but decided it best to show her. She very wisely reconfirmed that she really needs a stiff punishment. That she always told her own children that honesty is the most important thing and that dishonesty cannot be tolerated. She said if we don't have that honesty, we don't have any influence. I agreed. I remember reading once when Lily was little little, that when children tell the hard truth we should do something really big to celebrate it. That whatever we do to reward them for some other good act, telling the truth when it hurts deserves a party. And shortly afterwards I discovered a cracked DVD case and asked Lily about it. And I watched as she struggled and wriggled and finally fessed up and I praised her to high heaven. I felt sick leaving that school today. I called Tomáš and told him what had happened. We're going to have a big talk tonight, but I really don't know what the punishment should be. As the wise old dramatist W.S. Gilbert (or more memorably the wise old Camp Inch camp director, Miss Inch) once said, ''Let the punishment fit the crime.'' And her crime has to do with being wild and unruly and disobedient and dismissive. Ugh. If anyone has a good antidote to those things, please let me know.
|Best moment of the night.|
My little flower girl(s). I don't want to leave this post on a sour note. Actually, some very good things have come out of all of this. It has got me taking a very good look inside myself and why I do the things I do. That all is for another post, but I'm very hopeful just in the knowing. In the awareness of the things I do that I don't want to do. In a week-and-a-half we'll celebrate Thanksgiving with dear friends. What a precious opportunity to get it right. Food, friends, family. No froufrou.
|Came across this old gem online somewhere and snagged it (and two others) from Amazon. We had it growing up and it makes me so happy.|
|Looks like a little Troll was walking around on my cake.|