Daycare Lunches

Tales from the Monkey-Brained Boy part whatever...
The boy has been, mostly, behaving pretty well.  Apparently this was to lull me into a false sense of security so I would let down my guard.  Today he struck.  I have him in daycare, and my choices are to either send a lunch or give them money to buy a lunch for him.  We shopped and I let him pick out his lunches, he chose a specific selection of Lunchables, some fruit punches, ext.  I bought him a little insulated cooler with some refreezable cold packs to carry his lunch in and keep the food poisoning to a minimum.  Well, he was a bit excited the first day, because the center served pizza, but I explained it wasn't free, and he seemed fine with it.  But at some point, he decided one of the lunches he picked out wasn't to his liking.  He is funny about food, and will often through a fit over a particular food, declaring it his favor food ever, only to later reveal he doesn't like it and had never tried it before.  His truthfulness, or total lack thereof has been a major issue, and it recently came to the front.  The wonderful, sweet, kindhearted friend who picks him up when I work late, keeps him for me when I have to be out of town, and to whom I owe way to many favors to ever possibly pay back has even had trouble with him lying.  Up until recently he was on his super best behavior, but apparently he feels comfortable enough there he is starting to be himself.  After lying to her husband the previous day, he was given a talking to by her.  Then I confronted him about it this morning again and tried to explain why it was important to be truthful.  I have also refused to buy him anything new until he eats whatever food he had me buy him special.  I hope to stop the falsehoods and teach him to be truthful.  If I decide to try something new, I eat it whether I like it or not, perhaps this is a bit much to expect of a nine-year old, but I was not allowed to waste food as a child, so I don't think I should allow one to waste food either, especially if he lies to get the food.  It seems there should be multiple lessons in there, at least in theory.    Friday was swim day, so I was planning to give the daycare money to buy him lunch at the pool.  So I packed his last lunch, the one he had decided he didn't want.   I signed him into daycare.  When my friend picked him up, she was informed I owed the daycare $4.50 because I hadn't packed him a lunch and he ate 3 pieces of pizza.  Apparently he gave his lunch to another boy and told everyone I hadn't packed him a lunch.  Were there not a rule in place that says no physical punishment, and were I not the sort of person who believes in following rules and who's career is built around trying to insure people who don't want to follow the rules are following them, the boy would not be able to use the lower rear part of his anatomy to rest on for a month.  I haven't yet decided on the full extent of his punishment, but there will be consequences.  First he took a bath, ate supper and went straight to bed, this was mostly because my hand was twitching and my eye kept finding paddle-shaped objects.  I think I shall make sure daycare workers become much better acquainted with the boy and with me.  Next, I will see if he can be allowed to not participate in swimming and in the skating field trip next week.  If his being in daycare means he has to participate, then I'll have to come up with a daycare substitute for next Wednesday, he's been looking so forward to that field trip to the skating rink.

Sunday, Sunday, Sunday

Took the boy to the park after church. It started off poorly, Burger King messed up our order. He wants a double hamburger with ketchup only. Noone sells that. They all sell double cheeseburgers. I have the local McDonald's partially trained. I order a double cheeseburger, no cheese, ketchup only and they get it right about 85% of the time, but he insisted on BK and they haven't dealt with him and we were at the park before he discovered his burger had been contaminated with cheese. He would not eat it. Since I have nothing against cheese, I'm actually quiet fond of it, my burger also had cheese on it. I don't really understand fussy eating, my mother wouldn't tolerate it, and if I had refused to eat something I would have done without until the next meal. If I was half as picky as this kid I would never have made it until I was his age, I would have starved to death. I gave him my fries and he ate those then played for an hour or so. On the way back home, he asked about a reward for being good. Apparently in his mind, my having to drag him away from the river twice, although he knows to stay away from it, qualified as good. But I knew he hadn't had much breakfast, he didn't want anything we had in the house, although he picked out his cereal himself, then little lunch, so I bought him a bag of his favorite chips and a drink. When we got home he bounced out and immediately asked permission to turn on the evil "game system." It was granted, but when I went back out to the car to retrieve something I saw the empty chip bag. I picked it up out of the backseat only to see most of the contents laying on the floorboard on his side. The explanation was long and involved hand positions and gusts of wind, he never could explain why he didn't tell me he had dumped the bag of Doritos in the floor though. Anyway my back floorboard carpet now smells like nacho cheese.





We've had a couple of power outages in the past week. The boy asked me if I could set his clock while he took a bath. I agreed, but as I went into his room I noticed a couple of things. First there was a sleeve peeking out from under the blanket on the second, unused, bed. I lifted the blanket to find a small pile of laundry, at least part of which I recognized as having been worn recently. "But how can this be?" I thought. "I had him bring me all of his dirty laundry Friday." So I proceeded to the bathroom to inquire. At this point, I noticed his karate bag on his bed. It was opened and contained his pants, which had been in the first load of laundry, but not not his top or tee shirt, both of which had been in the second, and yet he had assured me he had sorted and put away the laundry. I reversed course and opened the top drawer on his dresser. The drawer was crammed full of not only the gi top and tee shirt, but also pants, shirts, shorts, underwear and socks. Despite the fact that he was bragging to the case worker just last week about how he had arranged his clothing himself and always helped around the house and did all his chores. I quizzed my young housemate and apparently he forgot the dirty clothes when he gathered up his dirty laundry. He doesn't know how they came to be under the blanket. Apparently a burglar broke in and rather than steal anything, hid half the boy's dirty laundry under a convenient blanket as a prank. He did admit to not sorting his laundry and I made him put that right before he could watch tv. As far as the mysterious laundry, at least two of those things are his favorites and he will want to wear them to school this week. They will probably not make it into the laundry until next weekend.

An Update

The boy’s afterschool program doesn’t meet on Fridays.  He rides the bus to Mom’s.  I was off work early Friday and beat him home.  When he got off the bus he was happy and throwing something in the air and catching it. When he came in he had a good report on his school behavior.  He also had a cup of unopened applesauce.  His friend on the bus gave it to him he said.  Later mom called.  There was a strange can of spaghetti sitting on her carport.   It was the boy’s.  The mysterious friend again who gives pasta and applesauce at work.  Yesterday, the bus driver spoke with the boy after he boarded but before he could sit down.  I asked about it last night.  His “sort of” friend Joseph had told some kind of lie about him.  The boy was saying my poor, put upon house guest was threatening him.  When I questioned him further, I was accused of calling the boy a liar.  I retrieved the notebook we do his spelling and math practice in and he questioned me.  I told him I was writing a note to the bus driver to let him get off at the sitter’s Thursday, since they only had a hour and a half of school.  When I folded up the note and put it with my stuff he became concerned.  He insisted he could give it to the driver.  “No, the rules say I have to give him the written permission.”  This morning when I stood by him he again tried to get the note to give the driver.  When I spoke with the driver I found that my poor innocent boy was threatening to take food from Joseph.  Who do I believe, my poor, poor, well-behaved child with the mysterious toy and food items, or the strange little boy I’ve never met?

Not having a fun weekend. Friday the boy came home with better grades on study sheets and homework than normal so I attempted to reward him with a dvd with episodes of his favorite tv show on it. This seemed to work and he spent friday evening absorbed in it. I sent him to bed at 9 and he still had some unwatched episodes. I've had issues with him and getting up at night and doing things, especially tv and games so there are strict rules as to when electronic devices can come on in the house and basically it's after I am up and have given permission. Around 5AM I heard a door sweaking. Then I heard him in his bathroom, then another door. Since he insists on sleeping with his bedroom door open, a lamp on in his bedroom, the bathroom light on, my bedroom door open and my bathroom light on, the only door that should be moving is the bathroom. I got up to investigate. He's propped up in bed reading a comic book. "Oh you're up." he says. "No I'm not. Go back to sleep." "What time is it?" asks the boy I have to wake up every school day at 6AM. "It's 5 o'clock in the morning. Go back to sleep." He looks surprised, but rolls over after I take the book away. I tried to go back to sleep, but he kept making noise often enough I knew he wasn't sleeping. So at 6:30 I gave up and got up. He pops up about 30 seconds after and asks when we are going to town. I told him definitely not now. He stammers around and then asks if he can turn on his "game system." The ps2 is also his dvd player. I told him no. He asked why. I told him there was no reason for him to be up before 5 am on a Saturday, and if he couldn't be considerate enough to let us old folks sleep, he couldn't watch his shows. He then asked if he could play a game, I asked how since he couldn't turn on the systems. He then asked what he could do. I suggested he finish the book he was "reading" at 5 am. He stomped off. After I calmed down I started breakfast. He came out of his room to inform me he was in condition yellow, "hungry". This is his second most common condition, with condition red, "bored" being the first. Although condition black, "grounded" is fast approaching to challenge. I told him I was working on breakfast. He asked what it was. I told him scrambled eggs and ham. He declared that "nasty" and demanded cereal. When I told him that he knew the rules and he ate what was put in front of him. He screamed he didn't like that, he wanted cereal. He, from what I can determine, has never eaten an egg. He stormed into his room and climbed into bed. After I had breakfast on the table, I told him to come and eat. He screamed he didn't want that he wanted cereal. I walked into his room and told him in the voice I usually reserve for telling me clients that the nice person in the uniform standing behind them is there to fit them for some special bracelets that he was to get out there and eat breakfast. He screamed I don't want to into my face. I told him the game systems were going for the weekend. He said he didn't care so I unhooked the xbox and playstation and took them to my room. Then I yelled into the room that his food was in the microwave, but he wasn't getting anything else until lunch. Next time I walked past his door he was asleep.




After we finished our errands in town, I told the boy we were going to rearrange furniture. We put the futon out in the storage building and then I stuck a tv stand in the living room. Then I went to his room and hauled the tv out onto the stand. I expected to hear a squawk. Nothing. He went and started hauling out cables. I got the xbox and ps2 out of my room and hooked everything up. I looked around and he was hauling the rest of his belongings out and dropping them on the couch. I asked what he was doing and he said he was bringing the rest of his stuff out here. "The REST of your stuff?" He said yes since that wasn't his room anymore, pointing at his room. "Why isn't that your room?" "You moved my stuff in here," he said pointing to the games. Don't start saying "aww.... poor little guy." When I first got the ps2, I told him it was mine, and it belonged to the house, he could use it, but it stayed here when he left. I tried to be nice about it and explained that the next little boy that came along would need it. At which point he informed me that it was too bad for that little boy, but he didn't care, that was his and he was taking it all when he left. Which was how he was actually grounded from the ps2 2 hours after I brought it home. I again informed him those weren't his and I was putting them where I could keep a closer eye on them. I made him move his other stuff back into the bedroom. He then came out and expressed curiosity as to whether or not I was allowed to play on the game systems. I told him that I most definitely could play on them. He then went to sulk for awhile. Later that day he came out into the living room. Looked at the tv, then me and the boy who cannot sleep unless he can see from one end of the house to the other from his bed asked me, extremely casually if I ever slept with my bedroom door shut. That's when I told him if he ever broke a rule involving games or tv again, the whole mess was getting locked in the gun cabinet and he was never seeing any of it again. I don't think he believes me.






Sunday:




I woke him for church. After church we ate then I started housecleaning. We have a lot of caseworkers wandering in and out this week, would rather the place look neat.


Beautiful spring-like day, the windows are up, the fans going, and I'm cleaning the carpet. The boy squeals, "There's a wasp in the house." "Leave it alone, I'm sure it eats less than you, we'll call it Fred."





Five hours later:





The boy walks into the house and across my freshly shampooed living room carpet, looks at me and says, "What do you want me to do with my shoes, they're muddy?" Yes he is still alive, but not happy.

More from the Mind of a 9-year-old

Just had an argument I don't understand. The boy has backpack issues. He came to me with a fancy backpack with a frame and wheels and a collapsing handle. He hated it. He saw the backpack in the trunk of the car where I keep my equipment and kept asking to trade. I didn't want to do that, but as I started picking him up at school I did notice his backpack sort of stuck out, so I finally brought mine in and emptied it. I emptied his pack and stuck my stuff in it. It fit so I traded. He was happy for about 30 seconds. For him that isn't bad. I enrolled him in karate and tonight is his first class. I haven't bought a gi for him, let him get a couple of weeks in and make sure he won't drop out first. So he needed to take a pair of sweat pants and a tshirt with him to change into for class. He did not want to put those in his backpack. It wasn't like I was asking him to carry anything potentially embarrassing like a jock strap and cup or something. He threw a fit. He wanted to stick them in a grocery bag and carry them separate. That might be reasonable except that this boy would forget his feet on the bus if they weren't attached. The backpack is the only thing he don't forget. He would not tell me why he didn't want to put the clothes in the backpack and I go through the backpack pretty much every night and he don't pack until the last minute so I know what's in the backpack when it arrives and leaves here. I finally said, "No clothes in the backpack, no karate." He pouted his way into his room. 30 seconds later he peaked around the corner to see if my grinch-like heart and grown 10 sizes or something, then sulked back. At 6:30 I told him to get a move on it was time for the bus. He sloooowly packed the clothes into a plastic bag and sloooowly put that in the backpack. Then we sulked to the road where he suddenly seemed to forget everything. WTH????




I have a magical hotwheel. It can teleport itself. It apparently teleported from his room to school where it was either lost or traded at recess. It teleported because he would never have taken it to school when he was told not to do that. Then it teleported teleported itself into the teacher's desk drawer. It had to have happened that way because he would never play with it during class and have it confiscated it. And lastly it teleported itself into my dryer where apparently all lost, teleporting hotwheels go to be found.




The boy did another weird thing. This is most definitely a learning experience. They moved him to a different class after the IAP meeting so new teacher. The first teacher and I had already gone through the whole milk break and snacks thing, but the new teacher didn't know it. When I went to the parent teacher thing one thing that come up was that the boy was helping himself to her basket of snacks for the kids that forgot or lost a snack during milk break. Elementary school teachers seem to be kind of awesome like that. Not like icky probation officers who are always grouchy. Anyway, she thought I might not know that I could send a snack with him. "I've been sending 2 every morning, usually either 2 fruit roll ups or a fruit roll up and some other fruit thing." Anyway the munchkin was apparently, I have nothing other than his word for this after intense interrogation and translation, eating one treat on the bus and either giving the other away or trading it for something else. Then scarfing a snack from the teacher. Yesterday when we had the altercation over work out clothes, I forgot the break milk ticket, which he insists is a "fake milk ticket," ran out. So I intended to send $6 with him for a new milk ticket. It worked once. I forgot, so I detoured by the store, made change and drove to the school with the money and 2 fruit rollups. One went into the back seat for pre-karate electrolytes or something, the other and the money I dropped off at the front desk. The very nice woman at the desk located him and passed the money and instruction along to him. In the telephone call afterwords, she said he got an odd look on his face so she asked the janitor to watch him. Bless the man, because he did, even though monitoring insane 9 year-olds probably isn't anywhere in his job description. The boy bought something, later investigation indicates a notepad, at the book store then gave the rest of the money to a friend. Once reported, the Principal managed to straighten it out and get him a milk ticket. I find myself constantly thanking and apologizing to the awesome people at the school.




Started a load of laundry and fished out the bag containing his school clothes he had worn prior to changing into his clothes for karate. The items included a pair of underwear. "You changed underwear to go to karate?" I asked. "Yeah." he answered looking at me like I was nuts.

The Mind of a 9-year-old Boy and other Horrible Things

It's been 2 weeks now as a single foster-father of a nine-year-old boy.  It's been culture shock.  I have learned much.  First, the reason God sealed our heads shut, was because if he didn't 9 year-old boys would leave their brains on the school bus.  Why not, they don't seem to use them!  Last week, my foster son left a perfectly good red and blue light weight jacket on the school bus.  Yesterday, the bus dropped him off at my parents.  When I showed up to get him, I was jumped by an angry mother, because I let him go to school on such a cold day with no jacket.  I turned around around and asked him, "Where's your jacket?" "I didn't wear...didn't wear one today, remember?" he answered.  "You didn't wear one?" I asked innocently.  "Yeah," he said sounding more confident.  "I didn't wear one."  "Then what do you call the blue and white thing you put on when I told you to put on a jacket right before we left the house this morning?"  This caused my Dad to snicker.  "Oh, yeah, I left that in the gym."  An interrogation followed that left me with the certain knowledge that maybe the jacket had been left in the gym, he may or may not have told his teacher, who may or may not have taken him to check the lost and found."  I went into the school this morning, but no one was in the office.  I called the school today, he has a light windbreaker and a winter coat, but his two middle weight jackets are MIA.  The windbreaker may be when I get home tonight, as he wore it today.  I saw him pull it off the minute he hit the gym and sat down to wait for breakfast to be served.

He doesn't like school.  Getting homework information is like interrogating a war criminal without a waterboard.  The teacher does send stuff home, including a list of the next weeks homework assignments on Friday.  Monday he was to do 2 pages of math, I am unsure whether it was for homework or inclass.  He didn't have a handout to do and turn in, but he brought this language and science books, neither of which he had homework in.  He also brought a sheet they completed in school. It was seven questions involving science terms.  He was to have filled in the missing words.  The needed words were listed at top.  There were seven of those also.  Not too tricky.  The ugly red note said he was given 30 minutes to complete it and turned it in blank.  When he was given a second chance to do it, he completed it in 5 minutes, but all seven were wrong.  I sat him down at the kitchen table.  Turned off every electronic gadget in the house and he corrected the sheet while I made dinner.  Then he was forced to eat horrid vegetables.  He went to the bathroom twice.  I am fairly sure he was spitting out carrots and flushing them.  (The veggies weren't punishment, I ate them, they were good.  He just wants to live on junk food.)  Then homework, then valentines for the party, then putting away clean laundry and picking up dirty laundry, then he had an hour left to play video games.

Last night he brought home an empty backpack.  First time he ever carried it home empty.  Very suspicious behavior, I thought.  He claimed no homework.  I had his spelling words, so he wrote those 10 times each as I cooked dinner.  He tried to cheat and only do them 7, 8, or 9 times, so he had to finish them and write them again 5 times each.  He again tried to be sneaky.   He "finished" his vegetables and left the table, left cheek bulging.  "Where are you going?" I inquired.  "Bathroom" he answered.  "Wait a minute, please." When he turned around and looked at me I said, "Swallow first."  He did then sat back down.  I made up 20 math problems based on his last 2 homework sheets.  He did those.  Then he fixed the ones he did wrong.  Then I made up sentences with his spelling words and he wrote those out 3 times each to practice his cursive.   Then he picked up his room.  He had an hour of free time before bed.  Which meant I had 2 hours of free time before bed.  I really miss my nightly news.

He has some bad habits.  For instance, when he enters a room, he is king.  He thinks nothing of changing the TV channel regardless of who is watching it.  If he finds a show he likes he will also turn off the light to enhance his viewing pleasure, even if I am reading or writing something.  That has stopped.  He also has some eating issues.  I am told 9 year-old boys are basically walking converters of food to poop.  But this is excessive.  I no longer poke food down him when he starts this.  I allow him some snacks, but not what he is  used to.  He is being forced to eat what is put on the table.  He can have a decent serving of meat, but has to eat all the vegetables on his plate or no snacks.  I am also working with limiting his liquids between bed and supper.  He has some sleeping issues.  Last weekend I think he got up at night and spent a few hours between 11 PM and 2 AM playing games Friday night.  I had taken some cold medicine that made me sleep deeper than normal but woke a bit after 2 and caught him trying to enter the DVD code.  I know he sat up most of Saturday night watching Dragon Ball Z DVD's I got him.  I didnt' let him nap Sunday, but we had a rough Sunday night because a call from his mother gave him night terrors that didn't leave until midnight.  He slept okay Monday and Tuesday nights, at least nothing woke me and there was no evidence the next morning, I gave up on night time cold meds after Saturday night.  He lost his DVD's Sunday.  I also told him if I caught him watching TV, movies or playing games after bedtime again, all electronic stuff was poof and probably not coming back.  Previous placements have said he wandered the house at night.  I don't think he is.  I am resigned to the fact that I will be warden.  Hopefully we will bond more, he is a cute guy and can be very fun and funny when he lets himself be a kid, but that isn't often.  Hopefully, I can eventually soften the structure a bit, but it really seems to be what he needs.  He seems happy when he isn't testing the boundaries.  He had an initial habit of wanting to throw fits in public places and acting out.  He would also run off.  We established on the third day with me that I wasn't chasing him.  I told him in the middle of Walmart, "You'll either come back or you won't, and if you don't I'll come up with a good story for DSC."  He hasn't run off since.  I initially tried to reason with him him on the fits, but Saturday I just started ignoring them.  I decided it was attention seeking and rewarding it was just feeding the behavior.  Haven't had him out in public again since then so not sure if it's working or not.