Since we don’t have any hurricane warnings or watches this week, I’m feeling pretty confident in declaring today the final day of Summer Vacation 2011. It remains to be seen just how far behind the 8-ball the kids end up as a result of missing the first week of school. Since this week also has an in-service day planned, in addition to today’s holiday, this week will be a bad one to start things off. None the less, start it they will.
We spent the majority of the day at the town fair. Some friends had extra tickets and asked if we wanted to get together and let their kids and ours have a little fun running around together. It worked out pretty well, but I can see the beginnings of a problem emerging.
The other family has 2 boys. The older is the boy’s age and the younger is, basically, the lass’ age. And therein lies the problem. The boy hangs out with his friend and the lass feels that the younger brother is her friend. While he is, he’s also at the age where hanging out with a girl isn’t high on his priority list. In truth, the younger brother likes hanging around the 2 older boys, making the lass something of an outsider.
It’s nothing too egregious at this stage, but the signs are there. For instance, at the fair today the younger brother was too short to ride on the big kid rides. When the lass offered to ride with him on the little kids ride, his face visibly fell. At that age, the only thing worse than riding on the little kids rides is having a girl do it with you as a chaperone. To rub salt on the wound, the lass is tall enough to ride on the big kid rides. Fortunately, the fates intervened and another friend turned up who was a suitable companion to go with him on the rides. That freed the lass up to go on the same rides as her brother. So there was peace in the land.
Until reading time tonight.
That was partly my fault I suppose. The boy selected a book to read and when he opened it, he balked. There were too many words on each page and there were too many pages and the words on the pages were too hard. The fact that he sings the same tune every time something is “too hard” just rubbed me the wrong way and I became determined to shepherd him through the book.
That didn’t keep him from putting up a struggle. First, he mumbled. Then he skipped words or whole lines and when confronted with a difficult word would simply barrel through it without the least attempt to try and pronounce it correctly. When it became apparent that I meant not to let him get away with these little acts, he decided to close the book and declared he would not read it anymore. So I told him he could go to bed. That brought the tears, and trips to the bathroom to blow his nose and other methods of delay and misdirection to try and get out of reading the book he had selected.
In the end, he and I worked our way through the whole book. Whether or not it was the “right” way to do it is another matter. Having been with him so long and being the kind of father I am, I saw all of his struggles and antics as tools to avoid doing something he didn’t want to do. As opposed to seeing them as legitimate struggles requiring sympathy and a gentler touch. At one point, close to the end of the book, he whined “I’m tired of reading” too which I replied “If you hadn’t been saying that from the beginning, I might actually believe you.” A bit too hard-assed or cold I suppose. It certainly wasn’t one of those heartwarming father-son bonding moments.
The Wife asked me why I was so difficult with him. I responded that I was only as difficult as he required me to be. Something of a slippery answer. He had given up on the book without really trying in my judgement, and I didn’t like that. I’ve never believed that every lesson is a happy one, and I’ve never shied away from unpleasantness with either the boy or the lass when I felt I was in the right. In the end, he did read nearly 99% percent of the book, so I felt somewhat vindicated. Still, while the incident was far from scarring, it was also far from pleasant. Whatever vindication I might feel was certainly tempered. It is nice to think there might be better way.
School starts tomorrow. Perhaps he and I both can learn something.