{"id":634,"date":"2011-08-30T19:40:21","date_gmt":"2011-08-31T02:40:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/?p=634"},"modified":"2011-08-30T19:40:21","modified_gmt":"2011-08-31T02:40:21","slug":"kindergarten-meltdown","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/?p=634","title":{"rendered":"Kindergarten Meltdown"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><center><a href=\"http:\/\/www.flickr.com\/photos\/ramblequeen\/6098243461\/\" title=\"First day of kindy by Ramble Queen, on Flickr\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/farm7.static.flickr.com\/6188\/6098243461_568238de3b.jpg\" width=\"333\" height=\"500\" alt=\"First day of kindy\"><\/a><\/center><\/p>\n<p>Up until 9 pm, I would have said our first two days of kindergarten were wonderful.  Erik loved everything about it, as far as I can tell.  Not that he tells me a darned thing.  His mouth is always going, but he rarely tells me anything of importance.  When I start asking questions he just starts copying me or saying &#8220;banana eyeball banana eyeball.&#8221;  You can imagine how much I love that.  If I&#8217;m really lucky he&#8217;ll throw in a &#8220;taco.&#8221;  <\/p>\n<p>Don&#8217;t ask me.  I don&#8217;t even know.<\/p>\n<p>He was so eager for the second day of kindergarten that he went to bed a half hour early just to make sure he woke up in time for the bus.  I was hoping that would be a new trend, but tonight it all went to hell in a handbasket.<\/p>\n<p>We did the usual bedtime routine.  I gave him his kiss, hug and love yous and walked out of the room.<\/p>\n<p>The hysterics started.  <\/p>\n<p>Full on hysterics.<\/p>\n<p>At first I thought he was trying to be funny, but then I went in there and realized he was in a state of total meltdown.<\/p>\n<p>After I finally got him settled down, we worked together to try to figure out what was wrong.  Basically it was me asking him yes\/no questions until he settled on one.  Apparently he missed me.  Awwwww, how sweet.  But also how sad.  My poor big baby boy.<\/p>\n<p>I know he loves school, but it is such a long day away from home.  I know it will get better.  I am not even surprised.  I was more surprised that he <i>didn&#8217;t<\/i> have a meltdown earlier.  One of my neighbors had to physically drag her daughter to the bus stop this morning.  She decided she didn&#8217;t need to go to school ever again.<\/p>\n<p>I am so glad Erik is going to kindergarten and I know he will be successful, but I&#8217;m also feeling a lot of repressed stress about the whole thing.  Last night I had a horrible nightmare that he was lost and when I finally thought I found him I turned him around to face me and it was a man.  A man!  I don&#8217;t need a psychiatrist to figure that one out.<\/p>\n<p>So far I haven&#8217;t taken really good advantage of him being gone so long.  Yesterday I went to the gym, a MOMS Club event, and then Elsa took a nap.  Today was the gym and a marathon Elsa nap.  I need to figure out how to put her down.  Mike can do it, but I have always been a terrible sleeping-baby-putter-downer.  She slept on me for three and a half (3 1\/2) hours today! I was glad she was getting some sleep, but there was so much I could have done if she had been in a bed.  Laundry!  House cleaning!  Computering!<\/p>\n<p>Instead I watched a bunch of &#8220;Flashpoint&#8221; and &#8220;Torchwood.&#8221;  I&#8217;m really loving &#8220;Flashpoint&#8221; so if you like police shows you might want to check it out.  It shows what goes on behind the scenes of a hostage situation.  Keith Mars (or Enrico Colantoni if you must) plays one of the main characters, so I was bound to like it.<\/p>\n<p>Let me tell you about today&#8217;s BodyPump class.  For those who don&#8217;t know, it&#8217;s a group weight lifting class.  I love it.  I never would have thought I could enjoy weight lifting, but they time everything to music so it goes a lot faster.  It is all about endurance and repetition so men very rarely enjoy the class.  In my experience men prefer to do really heavy weights and can&#8217;t handle doing five straight minutes of bicep curls or squats.  They always have to show off and load up the weight, then they die before the song is even half-way through.<\/p>\n<p>Well today we had two ginormous African-American men in the class.  Seriously ginormous.  I was wondering if they were with a local pro sports team, but why would pro athletes need to work out at the cheap gym?  <\/p>\n<p>They were pretty funny because they liked to talk and were trying to liven things up, but then they started moaning.  <\/p>\n<p>Oh. My.  God.  The moaning.  <\/p>\n<p>They wouldn&#8217;t stop.<\/p>\n<p>Sometimes they would whoop instead of moan.  Sometimes they would sing military chants.  The noise never stopped.<\/p>\n<p>At the end they told us that we were all a bunch of women (ummmm, we were) and we didn&#8217;t know how to work out because we didn&#8217;t make any noise.<\/p>\n<p>I thought I was going to have to leave half-way through the workout because my ear drums felt like they were going to explode.  <\/p>\n<p>I have done a lot of reading about Sensory Processing Disorder and I don&#8217;t have it, but I would certainly say I have sensory sensitivities.  It&#8217;s not a disorder because I have coping skills, but those men were twanging on my last nerve.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Up until 9 pm, I would have said our first two days of kindergarten were wonderful. Erik loved everything about it, as far as I can tell. Not that he tells me a darned thing. His mouth is always going, but he rarely tells me anything of importance. When I start asking questions he just [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-634","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/634","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=634"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/634\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":636,"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/634\/revisions\/636"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=634"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=634"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blog2.queenoframbles.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=634"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}