What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate

I have both undergraduate and graduate degrees in Communications. I say this not to brag (only Phys Ed has a poorer reputation as an academic major), but to make the point that I'm well-versed in communicating. This often translates into my saying whatever thought comes to mind, but that's a post for another time. Today I want to talk about my son's communication skills.

Overall, I am pleased to say that Ian is generally a great communicator. He's personable, engaging, humorous, quick-witted, and well-spoken. He's even comfortable sharing his feeling (gasp!). Recently, however, there have been significant breakdowns in communication. I would rank them in the categories of MAJOR, SIGNIFICANT, and NOTEWORTHY. Let's start with the MAJOR and get it out of the way.

Last week, our schools started PSSA testing (Pennsylvania System of School Assessment). For those whose children are not yet in school or have long since graduated, the PSSAs are standardized tests that kids take almost every year to satisfy the government. But that's a post for another time. Anyway, part of Ian's math testing was going to require the use of a graphing calculator. Along with pencils, classroom chairs, notebooks, paper, tissues, folders, highlighters, basketballs for the gym, music stands for the choral room, and lunch for the principal, we had to purchase this calculator for the start of 6th grade. I have no idea how they work or what they calculate, but the damn thing was ridiculously expensive.

Ian's graphing calculator was "stolen" when he left it in a classroom.

Last year.

And when did I find out about this missing $2,000 $75.00 calculator? The day before he needed it for PSSAs.

This is a major failure to communicate on Ian's part. He admitted he was scared to tell me when the "theft" actually occurred. He quickly learned telling me the day before he needed a new one (when it was too late to at least find an Ebay bargain) was actually much scarier.

Let's move on to SIGNIFICANT.

I am learning that some kids Ian's age care about their appearance. They want their hair to look combed good. They prefer to have fresh breath. And they like their clothes to match and fit. Ian shows no signs of is slowly inching in this direction. I know this because last night he informed me that some of his clothes don't fit. In particular, his underwear. They were cutting off the circulation to his legs. His legs were turning purple. We may have to amputate.

I don't know how long Ian was wearing too tight undies, but just a few weeks ago I discovered the shirt he was wearing was so tight around his arms I couldn't pull the fabric away from his skin. I swear he had to grease himself to get into it. He may have been wearing that shirt (and God knows how many others) since he was 8.

Clothes that prohibit your breathing and movement are of significant concern and should be shared with your mother sooner rather than later.

Then there's NOTEWORTHY. These are issues where timely communication is helpful and preferred, though not life-threatening. Noteworthy issues include:

• Running out of soap and shampoo. How long will a child shower without a cleaning agent before mom notices?
• Having no clean socks, pants, shirts, and of course undies, 10 minutes before catching the bus.
• Taking and relaying a message when the governor phones for your mom because he wants to appoint her to his communication staff

That last one didn't really happen, but it could have. I'd never know.

I imagine Ian will make some modest improvements in these Major, Significant, and Noteworthy areas of communication, but I don't expect miracles. After all, there is the expression, "Like father, like son." I could say more, but Rob doesn't like to be the subject of my blog. But that's a post for another time...

"What we have here..."