Yellow card…is that bad?

Yellow card…is that bad?

card

It’s the end of the school day. The bell goes and little eager faces pour out the door, pointing out their mum, dad or nana, to the teacher. Yes, off you go darling. Hi there! Ah, and here is my little angel. There’s my mummy. A stern face looks down to my little angel and says, ‘Please tell your mum I need to speak to her.’ My mind turns over a few scenarios. He has a sore toe. Is it that? Have they discovered he is gifted? Has he been farting too much? Did he get up to argy bargy with his best mate? Close. But let’s stick to the facts. They were play throttling in each other during art class. Fabulous. That’s what every mother wants to hear on the third week of kindergarten. And, furthermore, it’s only that my son’s teacher knows that they are long time best friends that she didn’t give them a YELLOW CARD. If another teacher saw that in the playground it would have been a YELLOW CARD shit storm.

For those of you new to the YELLOW CARD it is given to those pupils who perform in a negative way with behaviour that is not tolerated at the school. For example, play throttling your best friend during class time. The punishment is you have to sit on the bench at playtime and not play. A bit like being in the stocks really. Everyone knows you have acted in an unsavoury fashion and you have to sit it out. Pretty sure there is no rotten fruit throwing though. Maybe in my day but not in 2016.

The teacher gave us a talking too and quite rightly so. I felt reprimanded and ashamed. Oh wait, I didn’t throttle my best mate in class time but I was taking it like it was me. We do that with our kids. They are part of us. And when they disappoint we feel it keenly. And likewise, we feel like our chest might burst sometimes when they make us proud.

Not feeling like that now though. Where is he? He had buggered off to the playground with his brother and best friend, keeping a low profile during ‘the talk’. Letting me take the heat. Right I had to let him know that his behaviour was completely, absolutely not acceptable. I adopted my low voice, which is a tone I use for the serious shit. Like play throttling your best mate during class time.

I explained how disappointed I was in him and that daddy would be too. That we have talked before at length about what is acceptable behaviour and what is not. He apologised. He was remorseful. And then, as punishment, I had to pull out the big guns. No treats this week and certainly no Friday treat. There. I haven’t had to do this before. But it was pretty much a YELLOW CARD situation.

A few days on and I am proud to say he has been on his absolute best behaviour. Not putting a toenail out of line at home and I am enjoying it while it lasts. We were in the classroom this morning sharpening pencils to help his teacher (and redeem ourselves). My idea and he was proud to show me his classroom. When the bell went however I couldn’t find him. I started to panic. All the Kindies were lined up behind their coloured dots. Where was he? Panic started to seep through my body. Then I heard a distant yelling ‘Mummy! Mummy!’ He was stuck up an enormous tree and couldn’t get down.

Spirited, cheeky, energetic, bright, enthusiastic, adventurous and downright loveable. There is never a dull moment.

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