Should I die, this blog will serve as my son's source of virtual mama.

If I live, I won't have to repeat myself.

sigers writes fiction and nags her son in austin, texas. 

#Iwantyouto know that I'm going to push you. But I always have your back.

Every now and again my mother was called to my school because I was in trouble. Maybe once? Twice? I remember she would listen to the teacher or whoever was making the accusation, then she would dismiss them from the room.

Yes, dismiss them.

Because she wanted to talk to me. To get my side. And she believed me. And I never abused that trust. I told her what I did wrong and what they got wrong. Yes, I was running in the hallway, but no, I did not nearly knock over a pregnant teacher. I had stopped to help some kids that the person I was chasing knocked down. And I did get a talking to, but she told the school to cut the drama and call the other kid’s parents about the pregnant teacher part. She also added that she wished they had been so good at keeping her notified the time I’d ACTUALLY hurt myself on the playground rather than what I ALMOST did today.

Dang. She beasted y'all.

I want you to know that this is the kind of family that you come from. I just didn’t know I was going to go all WAY OF FAYE this early.

Soooo when you get happy, you turn into baby Henry Rollins. And just to be clear, you kinda don’t care if anybody gets hurt. You, my love, are the epitome of Crunk & Disorderly and you spend a lot of time in the office at your school because you got some Elaine in you. 

Your father is totally MORTIFIED because every time he takes you to school these kindergarteners point at you and say, there’s the baby that’s BAD ALL THE TIME!

If they do that when I’m on delivery duty, I’m going to walk up to them and calmly explain with pictures and video, the Manson murders. You want bad? I’ll show you bad. Good luck sleeping!

Now what has happened recently, is that we have discovered that the fluid in your ear prevents you from hearing very well. You’re at about 75% in one ear and possibly as low as 50% on the other. You can hear, but it has made you very slow to talk.

I was blaming this on your father. He doesn’t talk a WHOLE lot, and when he does, he mumbles. He sounds like Clint Eastwood on a drive thru speaker. But it wasn’t Snake Plisskin’s fault. It was water balloons in your ears’ fault. Mea culpa.

You’re getting tubes in your ears to fix the problem. I believe that your communication with your little school friends will change when you can escuche and habla con the best of them. You’re not angry, you’re just happy. That is, until they try to make you apologize - then you get frustrated. But mostly you just refuse to get serious. They fuss. You laugh. You’re my little Teflon Toddler.

I went to the parent teacher conference your school requested. I would like to point out that I TOLD the assistant teacher to try saying NICE TOUCH in English to correct you. That’s what we do at home and it really worked. She obviously forgot. But your teacher wrote it down and hopefully you will understand what they mean.

At home, we are working with you. I have already remedied your habit of FLOPPING to the ground if you don’t want to hold my hand while walking. I am working on getting you to focus on an activity. Sit at the table. Follow my directions.

The Elaine is a little harder to work on, as there’s no one to practice with. Although your great-aunt Vicki is very short. Perhaps we will put her in a Thomas the Tank Engine shirt and you can practice with her. You shove that woman and she’ll give you the WHAT FOR. Problem solved.

So I’m not envisioning your episode of Lockup: The Toddler Edition yet.

And I’ve been looking up a few other school options. You’re two. It would seem that the teachers would be able to handle this a bit better.

Anger fits are one thing. Exuberance is another. The first person that calls you a “bully” is going to get punched in the mouth. They will be unable to whine That’s where he gets it from because I’m going to be screaming SHUT UP, YOU PUSSY.

I’m kidding. Sort of.

But the minute it seems that the teachers believe what the kindergarteners say, that you are bad all the time, I’m taking you out of there. You aren’t “bad.” Except maybe in a cute little Michael Jackson way.  

If they cannot be patient until you get the tubes next Tuesday? If they don’t give you time to grow out of this phase afterwards? You’re outta there.

And I’m gonna beast them on the way out. Who takes TWO MONTHS to cash a check?

I want you to know that it is important to not have a bunch of losers as friends.

#Iwantyouto really use those ears.