He's...difficult

My son is a difficult child, I won't deny it. He's hyper, willful, destructive and defiant (sounds like a real peach, no?). He's also smart as a whip, funny, sweet, affectionate and very observant. He's good at finding your buttons and pushing them. The second you raise your voice he knows he's got you. I love him more than anything else and still occasionally want to sell him to the gypsies.

Where am I going with all this? Boychild is in the afterschool program until TBG picks him up around 4:30. The aide who is in charge of his age group also happens to be the instructional aide in his classroom. Boychild is difficult for ME to deal with for 8 hours straight, let alone someone else. She's complained so much about him to her supervisor that we now have a "behavioral contract" and if he gets one more demerit he gets suspended for a week.

TBG was there for the big meeting with the IA and her boss yesterday, and he let the IA have it (Thank Goddess I have a champion) and called her out on some of the crap she's pulled. There's a little form I stole from Mir (wouldashoulda.com) and made my own to find out what the school means when they say Good Day/Bad Day. The IA told TBG that the aftercare program won't use that form: we'll know he's been bad when he gets a demerit. Ummmm, ok. IA's boss says "Oh yes we do fill out forms like that, we do it for several other kids." Hmmmmm, smack of sabotage much? (Yes, I'm paranoid, I admit it)

After the IA left the room, TBG gave the boss a few more pieces of useful information, and she shared the tasty little tidbit that SHE'S had so many problems with the IA that she's talking to the Big Boss about the issues. So maybe we can add our voices to the horde and get the woman canned...

So after a day of feeling defensive of Boychild, and mad at the world, and pulling my MommaBear act, he blows it. I tucked him in last night and found a HUGE hole in his (brand new) top sheet. Then I found seven or eight little ones in his pillowcase. And then one in his (also brand new) comforter. All these months we thought he was doing so well with the safety scissors...so they're gone now, and the ruined sheets are in the trash (comforter will have to be patched, I'm not buying a new one). WTF? TBG gave him a swat (shock, horror, GASP!) and I took away his favorite plushy blanket for a while, since I can't trust him with nice things. Bleh.