I Hate the Baby

Liam's second week of school contained some bumps, some revelations and some detective work. His teacher had told me that she was having some trouble getting Liam to do his work--nothing aggressive, or disruptive, she said, just good old noncompliance. I felt partially responsible for not making him stick to a schedule of schoolwork every day of summer's eight weeks.

I was not surprised by the few "warning days" that had come home in Liam's behavior report, but I was taken aback by one of the notes that accompanied them. "Liam hit me in the stomach today" his very pregnant teacher had written "and said, 'I hate the baby'." This was quite a change of tune from my son. He has been so interested in his beloved teacher's baby that you would think it was his own sibling. He says he thinks it's a girl and has suggested a name (Annie, from his favorite movie). Several times during the summer, when we'd talk about going back to school in the fall he'd say, "And the baby will be there!" clapping his little hands with glee and jumping up and down. He had told me at one point, "I'm going to be there right when the baby comes out!" When I relayed this prediction to his teacher we both had a good laugh, imagining just her husband and my eight-year-old son in the delivery room. I was certain he thought that his teacher would have the baby and come back the next day with her newborn in tow, ready to begin class as usual.

As I questioned him as to why he would do such a hurtful thing, I remembered that I had to ask the right way. Finally, he said, "Mrs. C. will leave when she has the baby. She will be in the hopsital [sic]for a week." I realized that Liam had figured out what we were all afraid to tell him, for fear he would obsess over it for the duration. "Yes, she will have to leave for awhile," I told him, "How do you feel about that?" "Sad," he answered, " I will miss her." "OK, " I said, "That's OK. That's normal to be sad and miss her. You need to tell her that. It's allright to say it; it's not allright to hit." I made him write her an apology note. We talked more about his feelings and how to express them.


The next morning Liam began to act out again at school, giggling inapproriately. His teacher used this as an opportunity to explain to the class that she would be leaving and how everything would work in her absence. Liam has had no further incidents.



The other night, as I was putting him to bed, I asked Liam what he was thinking about. "Mrs. C. is leaving," he said. "I will miss her." "I know, buddy," I said, holding him, "I know."