Face Value

There's nothing like a seven year old exclaiming he doesn't feel part of the family to put a halt on the morning's proceedings. Needless to say, it turned my morning upside down in the few seconds it took him to utter those words (which he did... very loudly).

The first week at the new school had passed somewhat uneventfully, and we even remembered the correct uniform on the correct day. Seeing as I got it wrong more than once at our old school, even when employed as a staff member, this is a victory for me! All three children seemed fairly settled and perhaps enjoying this new adventure.

Until this morning.

Despite being a little down over my own sadness at missing the constant contact with friends (who became like family to me over the nine years at the last school), this morning dawned a new beginning. Fully rested after eight and half hours sleep, I aimed to tackle the morning with a fresh perspective. I was organised, I was motivated and darn it, these children would get to school on time (not one of my strengths) if it killed me.

And organised I was. Hot breakfast was served (instant porridge - I'm no Nigella), lunches made, all with time for me to shower before leaving. I even tackled Master Seven's turned up nose at my food offering and made him toast instead, figuring if he was happy about his breakfast it would make the whole morning routine go more smoothly. All he had to do was get dressed which I thought was easy enough. How wrong I was.

On emerging fully showered and dressed from my room, I found Master Seven folding paper aeroplanes. In his pyjamas. Five minutes before leaving. Now I did have the leaving time as ten minutes earlier in case of unforeseen catastrophes (which happen to our family regularly) but even fifteen minutes was cutting it close for Master Seven to get himself organised. So, I whisked my 'Admin Assistant' hat on and I started to dress him myself. Maybe I was a little tetchy, but I was conscious that Miss Nearly Fifteen loved being late as much I as loved warm pineapple (blech).

My slightly strong tone struck a dissonant note in Master Seven and he revolted. He wanted to tie his own tie 'I'll just Google it, Mum!' and there was a great deal of flapping hands from both of us. I tried desperately to get him ready while he tried desperately to stop me.

Needless to say, it ended with both of us shouting and he uttering 'you're so mean! It's not fair! I don't feel part of this family'. You could have sliced my heart with a knife and it would have been less painful.

We did make it to school on time (just) but the stony silence in the car was downright depressing. The ten minute journey was enough for me to (silently) berate him for his belligerence, justify my own position, then chastise myself for being so damn introspective and a terrible parent. By the time we got to school, I was set to apologise for being 'mean' (as he put it) and start the school day on the right foot. I couldn't bear it if I left him with the memory of harsh words for the the entire day.

I helped him put on his shoes (not finished in the haste of getting out the door) and spoke gently. He kept saying how tired he was and I kept saying how he'll pick up when he gets into the classroom.

I don't know what prompted me to ask the next question. Some may say 'mother's intuition' but it certainly wasn't a thought that had come into my mind at all that morning. I actually prefer to think that God, who I believe knows and loves me and my children, put that question in my head as He knew what Master Seven needed more than I did.

'Are you missing your friends, sweetie?'

I watched his big eyes fill with tears, and his bottom lip falter and I had to quickly hug him so he wouldn't notice my eyes following suit. The poor little dear was in such an emotional state about how drastically new everything was, that it had been manifesting in an angry defiance. New friends, new teacher, new routine; it was all wearing him out. Having touched on the source of his emotional anxiety, he and I both melted. I knew then what was needed - a mental health day at home, complete with a milkshake for him and a much needed (large) latte for me. It appears that he doesn't like being the 'Newbie', any more than I do.

Taken at face value, Master Seven was a troubled little soul today, but there was a deeper issue that without that one question I would not have been able to draw it to the surface. I would have continued on with my day, oblivious to his anxious heart, angry and probably researching family therapy or child psychologists. Whereas my day so far has been chatting over coffee and milkshake, cuddles and watching Master Seven finish his most sort after level on Geometry Dash. And a piece of humble pie...there's nothing like it.