One morning no matter how hard I tried, my son would not put a shoe or a sock on his right foot. After an hour of wailing, meltdowns, time outs, bribes and begging, I gave up. I decided to walk to school per our usual routine, albeit with my five-year old partially barefoot. Undaunted, I led the procession with broom in hand to sweep away bits of broken glass, splinters or bird droppings that could be dangerous to his naked toes. Keep in mind that my son wanted to go to school so badly that he was willing to walk in with one shoe. Although I felt ridiculous, and I’m sure he did, too, I was quite proud of both of us.
As we entered the school, the principal and the social worker saw us, so I explained that no, I wasn’t trying to punish or humiliate my son by making him walk to school with only one shoe on; it was simply the only way I could get him to go to school. When we reached his classroom, his teacher told me I’d have to go back to the school office and sign him in because she had already listed him as absent. Back we went.
When I got to the office, the school administrator told me I’d have to fill out a special form to explain my son’s tardiness. By this time, I had had it, “Look, I’ve just had a one and half hour meltdown with my child. He is only wearing one shoe today and he can’t me tell why; I don’t know if his shoes are too little, or if he has an ingrown toenail, or if he is just being difficult. He’s only ten minutes tardy, he wanted to go straight to class, and the principal said for me to go ahead and escort him to the classroom, and then the teacher sent us back here.” Thankfully, she said she’d take care of it. She must have been an imperfect mom, too.
I immediately went to the store to buy five pairs of shoes. Surely something would fit him and appeal to his fashion sense. I prayed that they would not be perceived as ‘too fancy.’ I also talked the school social worker into putting in a word on our behalf with the kindergarten teacher, who was supremely miffed that I’d enter her classroom unannounced and ten minutes late with a one-shoed child. Finally, I called the school nurse to check out my son to see if one of his toes might be infected or broken. Of course, I was also twenty minutes late with my call to one of the partners of my consulting firm.
Sometimes you just have to do whatever it takes for yourself and for your child, including suspending the rule of consistency and discipline. I think both mom and child need to be cut some slack occasionally.
I’m sure you have at least a million stories like mine, so knowing that there are other moms capable of incredibly difficult, stupid or downright confusing moments. Keep smiling, and do remember to give your child (and his rapidly growing little feet) the benefit of the doubt.
