Life's Not Fair (A Dramatic First Grade Tale)

On Tuesday I was on my way to pick up Luke from preschool when the clinic at Audrey's school called.  The nurse said that Audrey had come into the clinic crying with a stomachache and would not eat lunch.  I told her I was going to grab Luke and would be right over.  As I hurried to get him checked out, I had that helpless "both children need me and I am failing one of them" feeling.  I haven't had it in a long while, but it caused immediate flashbacks to Luke's newborn days when he would be screaming to eat while I was in the middle of putting Audrey to bed.  It's an awful, panicky feeling and I hadn't missed it at all.  

As we got in the van, I prayed she would feel peace (and not puke in public and be scarred for life).  Luke urged me to go "top speed" and then scolded me when I commented on something on the side of the road:  "Mommy!  Please pay attention to what you are doing!  If you drive off the road and break our engine, we cannot get to Audrey!"  Oh boy.  

I walked in the clinic and she seemed okay.  In fact, she seemed pretty good.  Since it was already 1pm though, I went ahead and checked her out and we came home (after Luke made sure she climbed in the van without bumping her belly.)  At first I thought she’d just accidentally had gluten, but the more I prodded the more I suspected something else was going on.  I got Luke down for nap and went back into her room to talk to her.  When I explained that sometimes our stomachs hurt when something has upset us, she burst into tears, hugged her knees to her chest, and kept repeating "I don't want to get into any more trouble, Mommy!"  

Well.  This just got interesting.  

I pulled her into my lap and she told me what happened.  She had a substitute that day that has a reputation for being strict.  Apparently Audrey and two of her little friends had asked to go to the bathroom right before recess.  Audrey wasn’t listening and didn’t hear when the sub told them to meet back in the classroom.  When they were finished, they walked down to the playground (something I know that her regular teacher allows.)  When they realized the class wasn’t there yet, they started to head back up ("Honest, Mama!  We did right away!"), but ran into the class on the way.  The substitute was upset and laid into them.  She made the girls walk two laps, give her $6 of their Boardwalk Bucks (fake money they're earning to spend at their Boardwalk Bizarre at the end of the month.  Audrey only had $10 total), and told them that they also might miss recess the next day.  

Ouch.

This was a harsh punishment for sure.  Tears stung in my own eyes but I didn't let her see.  We're talking about a kid that has never gotten into trouble at school.  EVER.  Not in two years of preschool and two years in elementary.  Not even a "move your name to yellow" warning.  Now let me acknowledge that she is not perfect by any means.  She just saves the sass and misbehavior for home.  But when it comes to teachers, she would rather have a limb amputated than to disappoint or disobey them.  

I realized I had a decision to make.  I could say what I wanted to (something along the lines of "WHAT?!  That's ridiculous.  That is way too harsh!  Doesn't she know you would never disobey on purpose?  What's her deal?!")  I could be indignant and fire off an ugly email to her teacher.  But something made me pause and think before I responded (thank you, Lord.)    This seemingly little problem suddenly felt like a huge opportunity for a lesson on responsibility and accountability.

I explained how part of a teacher's job is to keep everyone accounted for and safe and that, though it was an honest mistake, that it was Audrey’s fault for not listening to directions.  She nodded through her tears.  I told her, even though we may not think it fair, the substitute had the right to dish out that punishment.  I said that the consequences would stand, but that she would not get into any additional trouble with her Daddy and me.  I suggested that she write a letter of apology to the substitute and a letter of apology and explanation to her teacher and ask for a way to earn back her dollars.  She calmed down and we worked on the letters together.  

She nervously packed the envelopes in her folder and had a hard time going to sleep that night.  I tucked a "I'm your biggest fan" note in her lunchbox the next morning and pumped her up with encouragement and prayer as she headed to school.  Finally, after a long day of anxiously wondering how it went, I headed to the bus stop.  When she got off the bus, she was grinning.  She said that her sub was still there but that when she'd given her the note, the sub thanked her and said she could go to recess that day.  Audrey also informed me that she earned $4 in Boardwalk Bucks (an unprecedented one day record!  Hmm...perhaps I detect a little remorse on the sub's part?)  

So, in conclusion, everything seems to be back to normal in the first grade world of drama.  But y'all?  Parenting as kids get older is no joke, man.  You're not just keeping them alive, you're shaping their character.  You have to balance showing them that you're in their corner without them feeling like that's a blank check to act as they wish when they wish.  Sometimes that feels next to impossible.  

As a friend reminded me, it's like our pastor says:  "You're raising adults that you'd want to be friends with one day."  And I'd want to be friends with someone who owns her mistakes, even the honest ones.  Even the ones that result in too-harsh consequences, like giving up six hard-earned pretend dollars.  Because one day the stakes are going to be higher.  

I pray she always feels comfortable coming to me and that I can help her figure out how to handle her problems.  However, I will not be the parent that demands life be "fair" to my child.  Because it isn't.  But life IS a lot easier when we listen well and understand each other clearly.  And I bet she remembers that next time.