Tag: the boy

While watching cartoons this morning, I asked the lass to feed the Greys. She got up and then reminded me that she can’t get the bird food out of the refrigerator. So I asked the boy to get the food out of the fridge for her.

His initial response was to ignore me. Considering that I was on one end of the couch and he on the other, the probability he didn’t hear me was somewhere around 0. Rather than repeat myself, I asked him what he was doing.

He then suggested than his sister should just use a stool. Now, his suggestion was a perfectly reasonable point. There was just one problem with it: I’d already asked him to get the food down for her. After I told him that, he finally relented and huffily went to get the food.

Sensing a theme, I then asked him to put the bird food back in the fridge when his sister was done. His responded with more irritation and hostility than the first time.

After the cartoon ended and I asked him to feed the dogs, even with his previous reactions serving as a pretext, he still managed to surprise me.

The boy finally managed to make consecutive jumps with a jump rope and successfully yo’d a yo-yo. Or whatever you call it. In fact, he managed 2 yo’s in a row.

After his success with the jump roping, he had trouble doing it again and whined how he “just did it, but now I caaaaaaaannnnnnnnnn’t!” He’s sung this song so many times now, I’ve lost count. Only seconds before, he couldn’t even manage a single jump. Now he’s upset because he can’t jump on one leg backwards with his arms crossed.

Considering I never figured out jump-roping until middle school, he really needs some perspective here.

No patience.

The boy got good news today at his latest orthodontist checkup. He doesn’t have to wear the elastics anymore. I had noticed several weeks ago that his teeth and jaw seemed to have moved a tremendous amount. Before the elastics, his front-top and front-bottom teeth aligned right on top of each other. As opposed to a normal bite, where the tops come down in front of the bottoms. The elastics had reoriented his jaw such that he now has a normal bite. I was really amazed at the amount of correction in such a short period. Judging by his tone, the orthodontist was quite pleased with the progress.

The braces remain for the time being. Just in case his jaw reverts or something. We’ve got another checkup in 6 weeks, so we’ll see what the deal is then.

But the boy is happy he doesn’t have to deal with the elastics anymore. Personally, I thought it was a shame to set them aside after all the tears and gnashing of teeth figuring out how to attach them. I can still hear him screaming through tears how he’d never be able to figure it out and how he couldn’t do it. Ahh, memories.

I suggested he should keep putting them in just to keep up the skill, you know, just in case. He’s not having any of it though.

The boy demonstrated to me tonight how he can make farting noises with his hands and armpits. He was hoping I’d do the same so we could have a “farting party” together. A tempting offer…but one I ultimately declined.

Important developmental milestones like this are what parent blogging is about.

“I want my sister to do something like I have to do karate. It’s not fair.” That was the opening discussion on our way to school the other day. Ah yes, my favorite reason for young angst: it’s not fair. Nevermind that it’s not fair I have to keep hearing that phrase.

He’s upset that the lass has so much more free time than he does right now. Never mind that school is almost over and he’ll be bored about 24 hours later. Never mind that he actually enjoyed all those activities he had this year. All that matters is that his sister isn’t busy enough for his taste. Never mind that he actually wanted to do another sport this Summer. (For the record, we’re making a conscious decision not to get him too involved in camps and the like this Summer.)

The gall of 7-year olds.

The Wife informed me he made the same pitch to her today. She took the “You didn’t do a lot at your sister’s age” tact; I took the “I’m sorry, who put you in charge?” tact. I also pointed out their difference in ages and that, by comparison, the lass is actually busier than he was at the same age. But the boy isn’t one to let facts get in the way of a good snit.

It’s actually in keeping with a general theme of surliness in the boy’s behavior of late. Anything can set him off: his guy dies on the DS, he’s asked to feed the dogs, he’s asked to vacuum his room, he arrives home and we ask him how his day was, we’re having chicken for dinner, whatever. He makes a snap judgment in the moment and decides that life doesn’t suit him- time to lodge a complaint.

Unfortunately for the Wife and I, we’re customer service. Can I get an It’s not fair?

I’m hopeful that time off from everything will positively impact his mood. He has been very busy this year, often times only having 1 day of the week where he didn’t have to be somewhere. It turns out that the line between “professional child” and exposing a child to different things is a fine one. It ended up being way easier to fill up a schedule than we’d anticipated. But with the Summer here, he won’t have many requirements on his time. It’ll be a good chance to recharge his batteries.

Until, of course, that no longer suits him either.

I wonder if there’s a record for “Number of times plugged a toilet in a calendar year” because if there is, I might have to submit the boy’s, er- well, what would you call that anyway?

And no- I don’t know if it’s because of TP or for, um, other reasons. Don’t want to know either.

Though it would be nice if he figured out how to use the plunger. Sheesh.

The boy got a very special balloon from the dentist yesterday. It was very special because well, I’m not really sure. But the boy was very attached to that balloon. It had these little knots tied into it that made it look like an animal … or something with nipples. Who knew the dentist was handing out X-rated paraphernalia?

He spent his time with the balloon blowing it up and trying to fill it with water and showing it off to his sister and all the wonderful things that one does with the balloon that is the momentary focus of their being. So it was all the more traumatic when the balloon popped in his face.

(deep breath…. keep going … a little more)

“WHYDIDIBOTHERGETTINGASTUPIDBALLOON!IBARELYHADITATALLANDITPOPPED!WHYDIDITPOP?IKNEWITWASGOINGTOPOPBECAUSETHATALWAYSHAPPENS!IKNEWIT!ITALWAYSHAPPENSEVERYTIMEIGETABALLOON!”

Followed by the tromping around and foul mood that such drama always brings with it. He stomped over to the trash and flung his dead balloon into it. He then stomped up to his room to mourn his balloon.

After several minutes, he found a new balloon. It wasn’t the same as his X-rated-nipple balloon, but he could blow it up and put water into it. The mourning period had ended.

Long live the balloon!

The boy’s school has the 1st graders perform a “Talent Show” at the end of each year. A number of parents we know have older sons and daughters who have already done their time, and they all said it’s a lot of fun. And I have to say, it actually was.

The boy declared he wasn’t going to school this morning. He justified it thusly: “I’m not going because 7 year olds don’t have to go to school.”

I told him “Yep, you’re right. 7 year olds stay home and work doing the dishes, mowing the lawn, washing and folding clothes, vacuuming, dusting …”

He cut me off “Oh fine, I’ll get my backpack.”

In addition to the physical, the boy’s martial arts instructors also teach the students a little Korean. The younger kids learn to count to 5 as well as the Korean words for “block” and “kick”- stuff like that. The older kids are taught more and are tested on it regularly.

We were trying to help the boy out last night and the Wife was going over some of the words with him when she asked him to count to 10. Having only been in the new class a couple of times, I expected he might remember only a couple of the numbers from 6 to 10.

Well, darned if he didn’t remember them all. I was so surprised that I started joking with him about it “I didn’t know you knew all those numbers! Are you learning stuff without us knowing about it?”

He quipped back “That’s OK Dad, I didn’t even know I knew how to do it.”

The boy helped me out a little this weekend laying mulch down in the flower beds. We did most of our work in the morning because it was supposed to rain in the afternoon. In reality, it didn’t take that long. The rain started, albeit lightly, while the boy and I were out working.

He had noted that he was sweating from his work. I think it was still on his mind when he exclaimed “Dad, I know why it rains!”

“Oh yeah, why is that?”

“I think it’s because God is sweating.”

I pondered this for a moment and replied, “Well, he must do a lot of work to make all this sweat.”

“Yep. He’s a busy guy,” he replied.

On the way to his martial arts class, the boy was eating a snack. One of those crackers and cheese combo packages. The elastics for his braces were sitting on the center console of the car. He finished his snack about half-way to our destination.

The elastics were in a bad spot for me- no where to put my elbow. So when he finished I just reminded him about them so he’d put them back in. Since the car was still moving, I figured if he started then he’d have them in by the time we got to the school, what with the movement of the car and all.

So he picks up the first one and puts it in. And then the boy who spent a week in tears of frustration over his elastics; the boy who on a number of occasions declared he would not go to school because of the elastics; the boy who had declared he would never wear the elastics because they were too hard to install said something so remarkable and stunning that I still can’t believe the words issued forth from his mouth.

“Putting in my elastics is SO EASY!”

Once I remembered I was still operating a motor vehicle, all I could do was smile and shake my head.

The boy had a good game last night in his coach pitch outing. Apparently he clobbered the ball for a standup double and was the only one to do so. I missed it because I was working with the lass’ T-ball team since the coach there decided to schedule the practice for last night. Not terribly convenient, but what can you do? The Wife got to see the big moment anyway.

Unfortunately, the boy truncated his moment of glory. A couple of batters later, with the boy still on 2nd and another runner on 1st, the batter hit the ball right to the 3rd baseman. The boy, not totally understanding baseball yet, saw that he was an easy out so he chose not to run to third so he couldn’t get tagged. He was very upset to find out his scheming didn’t have the desired result.

On the way home, as I was trying to explain the whole “force out” thing, the boy got very defensive and, in a moment of clarity and insight rare for one so young, spat out “Well, then baseball is stupid!” I paused long enough to rejoinder “That’s a conversation for another day…”

The boy has moved up another belt rank in his martial arts training. The change moved him into another class and yesterday was his first time participating. It was a completely different class from either of his previous ones.

When he started a little over a year ago, the classes taught the basic techniques but the instructors didn’t demand much technically. Mainly, they wanted the kids to listen, follow instructions, and have fun. And not necessarily in that order. I had my doubts about what exactly they were learning, but having coached some T-ball and observed other athletically oriented activities I came to realize that, for the age, not expecting much was how it had to be.

In the fall, he moved up into a new class with older kids. This class was different. A little anyway. The instructors were less forgiving of silliness and worked on technique a little more. But still, the classes themselves were not strenuous and there was still a focus on keeping it fun. They also started learning Korean terms for the kicks, punches, and customs. Still, in all, it was clearly geared for younger kids.

The class he is now in is completely different from the others. The simplest way to describe it is it’s in line with the stereotypical martial arts class. The kids are worked harder and challenged more: to be faster, technically proficient, and to be smart. There is also almost no tolerance for silliness or disobedience. The younger kids were mildly upbraided for two slights yesterday- talking while the instructor was talking (before class had even officially begun) and not listening to a higher ranking student (by belt) who warned them to quiet down and listen. The other side of that coin is the instructors efforts to teach proper technique in that class were more than anything I’d previously witnessed.

So after all that, what was the boy’s impression?

“That class was hard.” Those were his exact words when the class ended. He then lamented about being the “worst one there.” Which I didn’t think was true, but even if I grant it was I told him he shouldn’t be upset about it. After all, a year ago when he started, he had no idea how to do any of this stuff. He’s steadily improved to the point where he’s now in the highest children’s class the dojo offers.

But his initial reaction wasn’t far off in many ways. The class was definitely harder than what he’d been exposed to previously. He’ll have to adjust accordingly. The Wife and I will have to help him through it. Just like we always have.

Supposedly, a 4-leaf clover is a genetic mutation that appears in every 10,000 clovers or so. Now, the growing season is still young so we don’t actually have that many clovers. But come the middle of the Summer, we’ve typically got plenty of patches around the yard.

Which made the boy’s feat yesterday noteworthy: he found not 1, but 2 4-leaf clovers. The Wife pulled the “It’s-OK-to-tell-Moms-Your-Wish” routine and he revealed one of his wishes to be a trip to Gamestop. Guess he’d like to get some new DS games or something.