Ugh. Just spoke with the Boy's teacher. What a mess. The Boy started a class yesterday that's supposed to help him learn to recognize and modify his energy level. As part of this, the kids got fanny packs and "fidgets", which they're supposed to get used to and experiment with to find which ones work best when focusing on task. My understanding was that they weren't supposed to take these to school yet. Per usual, the Then and I are not on the same page (why did we get divorced again? Oh, yeah), and his understanding was that the Boy was supposed to take the whole damned fanny pack to school.
So of course, the Boy's been a complete wreck all morning, obsessed with this new thing; the teacher calls me in a complete tizzy because the woman is, oh, how shall we say, high strung? "This is awful, this isn't working, this class is the worst thing that's ever happened to him..." I have some real reservations about whether this woman understands what I'm saying when I talk about positive reinforcement and conscious discipline. Doesn't help that the class is understaffed and overcrowded, I know, I know, but--damn, woman. And of course now the Then is pissed at the teacher ... and I've got that nasty "must deal with all conflicts" knee-jerk reaction that I HATE. Urk. Where's the vodka?
On the up side, the teacher mentioned in passing that this day was so awful because he's actually been making progress over the past few weeks since we went on Feingold. Well, that's great, thanks for noticing. Did I mention the whole "positive reinforcement" problem?
Oh, and the Boy's spent the morning putting his hands down his pants, too. Well, yay, at least someone's having a little fun.