That’s My Kid

Alternative Title:  Miss Beth, Please-Oh-Pretty-Please Just Follow Us Through Senior Year!
Anyway, so there’s that.  Otherwise, school is going great.  Kindergarten is one big adventure.
So far, Jadon has explained to his teacher how it’s okay for his dog to lick his wiener, because DUH!, he’s a dog, and that’s what dogs do.  He did go on to further clarify that it is not okay for humans to lick their own wieners because they can take showers.  Dogs cannot take showers.  (Jesus, help me please.  Also, I’m installing a liquor cabinet today.)
And then there’s Jordan.  Let’s just back up to Meet the Teacher Night, which he insisted we didn’t even need to attend because he already KNEW his teacher, thank you very much.  His teacher is Miss Beth.  His teacher will always be Miss Beth, and he has no need for any other teachers on the face of this planet.  Now, try explaining anything different to the kid, and face the wrath of his Star Wars sword (Sorry, Star Wars fans.  I have tried to get him to call it a light saber, and he insists on calling it a sword, for which Jason is rather certain we should punish him by taking away desserts for an entire year and possibly even removing a birthday or two.)  Anyway, I digress.  No need to meet the teacher.  We have known her for two years.  His teacher is Miss Beth.
Right?  Um, wrong-o, buddy.  Not this year.  This year is new, different, exciting!  Can I get a big ol’ ‘Yay!’ for exciting?!   No way.  Instead, I got a big ol’, “Where’s Miss Beth?”
But aside from the whole missing Miss Beth ordeal, he has settled in quite nicely.  Or so I thought.  (Cue ominous music.)
And then the phone calls began.  And the notes.
Aw, crap-scicles.  Where’s my Xanax?
So, apparently, Jordan’s teacher has observed a few things about him so far.  Oh Mah Gawd, we are only three weeks in, and she’s already observed things?  This is gonna be a long year.
It has come to her attention that he tends to move around a lot.  And that he’s a ‘very busy boy.’  (I think it’s inappropriate to respond with ‘no shit’ to a teacher’s note, right?)  And she’s also noticed that he has trouble focusing and that he likes to sort of do his own thing.
Um, BINGO!  You’ve got the right kid, lady.  Well, at least we know that our kid is getting to the right classroom every day.
I’m not sure she’s aware that he’s already taking a low dose of medication, and I’m pretty unwilling to turn him into a 5-year-old zombie, so we seem to be at an impasse.  So my only option seems to be to beg Miss Beth to move in with us and follow him to school every day for the next 13 years.  How ‘bout it, Miss Beth?  Please tell me there are other teachers out there who understand kiddos like my kiddo!

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