Tommy...

This morning I stopped to talk to Tommy's teacher.  (I love her so much that this is not really a chore.)  I needed to tell her that for the second time, Tommy came home with money given to him by another child.  I have no idea why the kid is passing out cash, and no idea why Tommy accepts it ("Mom, would it be okay if XXXX gave me a little bit of money?" he asked last night) and now that I think about it, I'm not sure I asked him those questions.  In all honesty, yesterday contained some pretty bad parenting moments on my part, but more about that later.

So I told Katie Kriefall (the best second grade teacher ever) about the money situation, and she said she had something to tell me, too.  I felt anxious from the first sentence which was, "So yesterday, I wore brown eyeshadow, which I don't normally do."  Oh dear god, what did he say to you about your eyeshadow?

She continued, "During morning meeting, when we were going through the day, Tommy raised his hand.  I asked him if he had a question and he replied, 'no, I have more of a comment about your eyeshadow.  You look a little like a vampire.  And if you got your skin paler and put on those teeth, you know what I mean Mrs. Kriefall?, you'd look just like one!' "

Thankfully, Mrs. Kriefall has a sense of humor.  She said that she later told Tommy she was going to publish a book of things that he says, and he said, "Okay, but you have to give me fifty percent."  Would you or would you not say my kid is pushing his luck?

So back to the bad parenting.  We went to the park yesterday after school, and there were a bunch of second and fourth graders there -- and they were doing a lot of wrestling.  I was chatting with moms and not really attending to my children, and all of a sudden, he comes Tommy crying.  Some fourth grade girl called him and his two friends IDIOTS - and this was after she punched Tommy in the stomach while wrestling.  Her mom was sitting right with me and didn't do anything, so I walked off with Tommy and tried to convince him that nothing really had happened.  Because I had no idea how to have some big hard conversation with his mom.  And I had no idea what she would do!  It was all so horrible.

We left shortly afterward, came home and drew pictures of all the things he wanted to do to the girl (these were gory pictures with lots of swords) - which I hope hope hope is an okay way to process those feelings.  Then during dinner we role played, thinking about the conversations he may have with her at school.  My kid is so amazingly sweet that he flinched when I (acting as the girl) told him he was being a baby.  By the end of the evening he felt okay but I didn't.

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A totally unrelated Lizzie:  last night at the dinner table she suggested that when Daddy got home we could all four get in a circle and take turns jumping as high as we can, like the Masaai.