The kids returned today to the sound of …
Tears.
There own, to be more specific.
There exhaustion from a whirlwind visit with their Grandparents had caught up with them. They had fallen asleep during the ride and were none to pleased with their wakeup call upon arrival. The boy came in the house grumpy and collapsed on the couch while the lass balled because her belly hurt.
Welcome home indeed.
The lass, particularly, needed tending to. She’d had clams, in the form of chowder and clam cakes- liberally soaked in ketchup I’ll wager, for lunch and she said her stomach had started hurting shortly after riding on the merry-go-round. I thought perhaps a bad clam was the culprit. Everyone else was chalking it up to fatigue. The Wife figured out we were all wrong a little later. She was … a little bound up, let’s say. A trip to the bathroom helped her condition, and mood, considerably.
The boy didn’t want to go to his karate class. This situation arises regularly with kids. We, the parents, think the child should do something. The child disagrees- not for any particular reason. Most just to because they’re disagreeable. But truthfully, I’m never confident with resolving these situations.
On the one hand, indulging their obstinance is a recipe for disaster. Sure, it might settle them down for the current crisis. But some time later, that won’t be an option and they will recall their prior success. They will not only deploy the tactic again, they will double down on it and make it harder. They got their way before, why not now?
On the other hand, I don’t want them to resent the thing they are being pushed towards. He’s only six and that’s an awful young age to imprint a negative association with something. Is pushing the child worth the risk? It’s just one class, right?
It’s one of those judgement calls where there’s nothing in the book telling you how to deal with it. And even if there was, the child always reacts in a way that the book doesn’t explain. So you’re still flying blind. Stupid, non-existent book.
When I was younger and dumber, I probably would have hauled him up on my shoulder, carried him to the car and buckled him in myself. He’s too big for that now. Being a little wiser, I opt for various coaxing techniques. It’s still rarely a total win, and today was no exception. He hated going to karate even after the class was over. In spite of the fact that he looked like he enjoyed himself while he was out there.
The good news is, by the time we returned home from karate, his mood had improved dramatically. So too had the lass’ condition. The remainder of the evening consisted of frisbees, dinner, various assorted dance performances, starting a new book and bed. They even helped clean up after dinner.
Life returns to normal.