Tag: the boy

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An “Ehh” First Day

I suppose the rain this morning pretty well captured the kid’s mood. They went through their routines- breakfast, making sandwiches, backpacks ready, a little morning cartoons. Neither of them was particularly pleased though.

The lass griped about he pictures- somehow she’d gotten some food on her dress. Rather than addressing he problem, she insisted there was none. We eventually opted to turn the TV off on them this morning to drive home the point that the bad attitude wasn’t appreciated.

On the ride in, the lass whined about recess and gym and why everyone like those times during school. She thought they were stupid and didn’t like them. Continuing with all the happy talk, the boy complained about being stuck in “smelly, sweaty rooms” all day. When we finally arrived at the dropoff, the boy stalked out the door, closing it in his sister’s face without so much as a backwards glance. With his head down, he might as well have been marching off to prison.

The lass brightened a little at that point. She opened the door her brother had closed in her face and hopped out without complaint. She turned and waved at the Wife and I, a big smile on her face. Then she was off, and we headed home.

By that point the rain had stopped falling, but the clouds remained.

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A Quiet Final Day

In contrast to most of the rest of the Summer, the kids spent their final day playing quietly. I had to go participate in sexual harassment training at the school I tutor for, so I left them for a couple of hours this morning. When I left, they were starting a game of Monopoly. When I returned, a couple of hour later, they were finishing that game of Monopoly.

They continued playing, changing board games as their patience with each other began wearing thin over a new game of Monopoly. In the meantime, I had a little lunch and then tended to some outside chores that needed doing. I’ve replanted grass over all the areas of the lawn that I’d wrecked during the Great Patio Project of the Summer so I’ve been tending to that with water and the like while waiting for the initial sprigs of grass to show up. I told them I’d probably be going into the pool for a bit after I was done.

This news got them outside for a bit. They were in the pool well before I was, eagerly awaiting my arrival in the pool. They’ve invented a new game they call “Shark”. Original, I know. It’s basically a form of under water tag. The person that’s “it” swims around but can only tag someone when they and their target are both submerged. We play with eye goggles one, so it’s actually quite difficult to get tagged. None the less, we managed several rounds until it became too cool to continue.

Plus, it was time to start prepping for dinner. We wanted the boy to attend martial arts class tonight to make things easier for later this week. I’d missed my own usual Monday morning class because of the training I’d gone to, so I decided to attend classes tonight as well. The boy has been participating in teen classes lately because the children’s classes have nothing left to offer him at the junior apprentice level. So my participating tonight meant we got to take a class together, which he seemed to take as a novelty. Anyway, in order for him and I to make class, I had to get dinner going a little earlier than usual. While I took care of dinner, the kids went back to playing their games.

We returned home for class to find the Wife and the lass curled up on the couch reading together. They had already done some prep for tomorrow morning, getting lunches and snacks ready. The boy had to go take a shower, then he got a little ice cream- a final summer treat before the long slog of the year began. Afterwards, he also took care of some of the formalities for the next day, assembling part of his lunch and making sure his school bag was ready to go.

They were both in bed by 8. The Wife is in bed now, and I’ll be following suit shortly. The Summer was, in many respects, too short. For all the parental joking about “relief” that school is back, the house will have a quiet about it that will take a little getting used to. On the way home from martial arts tonight, the boy said, a little glumly, “I guess a lot of parents will be happy come tomorrow.” I thought for a moment and then told him it probably wasn’t quite like that. I said Summer’s are a fun time for everyone since we all get to spend a little more time together doing things, even if it’s just hanging out together. Summer is a nice break from the routine of schools- the dropoffs, the pickups, the homework, the activities.

When I finished explaining this to him, he seemed a little more pleased about the circumstances. I suppose it never occurred to him that, while he and his sister were busy enjoying their Summer vacation, the Wife and I were as well.

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The Boy Earns Junior Apprentice

At the end of July, the boy earned his Junior Apprentice Black Belt at his martial arts school. The instructors at the school have created a stripped down curriculum for kids not yet in their teens. The instructors experience is that young kids don’t have the maturity to properly learn all of the nuances needed to earn a full “adult” black belt. So, in order to reward their progress and dedication, they created an intermediate level belt called a “junior black belt” that serves as a bridge to a full adult black belt. This is the path the boy is now on.

There was a meeting last week for all of the kid about to enter the next “testing cycle” for the black belt and junior black belt levels. It was interesting in that the expectations for the kids in the testing phase are quite high. The instructors were quite clear in communicating that it was on the kids to make sure they were ready for the upcoming tests, that they knew which classes they needed to attend and that they adhered to the “roadmap” provided them. In short, they were telling the parents that outside of getting the kids to the school, to back off and let the kids flounder.

The rationale for this approach was pretty simple- they feel the kids need to struggle, fail, cope, persevere, succeed. In particular, in order for the success to have its maximum effect, they want the kids to be able to recognize that it was their own efforts and dedication, rather than their parents driving them, that resulted in their success. The instructors have created a curriculum, or “roadmap” as they referred to it, that, in addition to the classes, they believe will allow the kids to successfully negotiate their apprentice belt level.

Tonight, the boy was doing some of his push-up and sit-up requirements as specified by the curriculum. The Wife also took him for a bike ride this morning to help satisfy other parts of it. Assuming he’s able to stick it out, I think it’s safe to assume he’ll have learned more about how to succeed than I had at his age.

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A Summer of Harry Potter

It’s actually kind of interesting for me to think back on this. When the boy was about 5 and the lass about 4, I read them the entire 1st book of the Harry Potter series. They were both intrigued by it and even more so after seeing the movie.

And that’s where things stayed for several years.

The Wife and I stuck to our guns on the matter of the movies- we would not let them watch the movies until they had completed the books. The boy made several attempts at starting the 2nd book, but it wasn’t until the beginning of this past school year when he finally managed to keep at it. It was during a martial arts tournament in March that he finally finished the 2nd book and also started the 3rd.

I also remember back in May when he started the 4th book, The Goblet of Fire. He was a little intimidated by the 700+ page count. He figured it would take until the end of the Summer for him to finish it. The Wife and I told him, there was no rush and whenever he finished it would be fine.

He finished it shortly after school got out.

He finished The Order of the Phoenix a month-and-a-half later, and then the Half Blood Prince he finished this past Saturday. He finished The Deathly Hallows today- he could barely put it down.

Talking with him about it, he didn’t retain all of the details and he missed some things as well. I suppose that’s to be expected for a 9-year old reading big books like the final few were. Still, in some respects it’s too bad because there are a lot of details that make the story more enjoyable. Perhaps some day he’ll go back and re-read the series.

The best part, though, was a question he asked shortly after he’d finished The Deathly Hallows. “What story should I read next?” he asked.

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Still Learning to Look

There’s the old adage “An emergency on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” I bring this up in the context of the boy coming screaming down the steps this morning and asking me, in an extremely agitated state, “Do you know where my swim shirt is?”

I flatly replied “No.”

He seems not to have figured out that I don’t have a “lost item” tracker in my cerebral cortex. Nor do I have x-ray vision. I can use logic though, and invariably this is all that’s needed to track down 99% of the “lost” items he and his sister come at me with. The thing is, I hate to do that because he’d rather I or the Wife find his lost items. He won’t learn if he doesn’t do.

“Well, it’s not my fault that it’s lost because you did laundry, so you were the last one to see it.”

These sorts of statements test my patience. On the one hand, he’s frustrated and doesn’t possess very good coping skills yet and I’m aware of that circumstance. On the other, he’s being extraordinarily rude to someone he’s asking for help. On yet another hand, he seems capable of using logic, albeit a twisted form of it. Ultimately, today, I decide to hold my tongue and let his comment slide. But I don’t get up to help him look- I’m sure it’s somewhere obvious and sensible, he’s just too worked up to think of that spot.

He stomps upstairs to continue his search, screaming “It’s not anywhere!” This is always the pattern for lost items. He looks in the spots where he expects the item to be and doesn’t find it. He then looks more frantically in the spot he expects the item to be, and still doesn’t find it. In between, he gets up and walks in circles gazing at all areas of the room along the way, declares “It isn’t anywhere!” and then looks a third time where he expects it to be. Unremarkably, he still does not find it. When I or the Wife ask “Where did you see or have it last?” the reply is invariably “I had it and then put it away right here. Someone picked it up and moved it on me. This always happens to me!” The thumping sound that follows is typically my palm hitting my face.

By this point, the boy is highly agitated and difficult to deal with. He yells, and retorts to suggestions with great amounts of sarcasm. We calmly try to suggest places he might look and he invariably replies he already looked there. The Wife and I are dubious of this prospect because, well, every time we intervene we look in a couple of spots and lo-and-behold the item turns up exactly where we said it would.

The good news is the boy finally found his swim shirt in the laundry. Apparently, he actually had to look to find it. You know, that means moving a couple of other articles of clothing to uncover his shirt. The bad news is he was an ootch to his Mother, who was trying to get ready for the day while he stomped around with his searching antics, along the way.

My assumption is that someday he’ll learn how to find things in a more congenial manner. The tough part is I’ve been thinking that for what seems a long time now.

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A Project for the Kids…

I built a deck for our house years ago now. It’s held up extremely well. A couple of the decking boards are rotting out, which I won’t take the blame for since they are PT boards and supposedly don’t rot. Guess they don’t make them like they used to.

Aside from the decking boards, the other thing that has slowly been chipped away at are the post caps I fashioned. They were simple enough- squares cut from a 2×6 that I then cut into shallow pyramid shapes and then glued on to the tops of the posts. They looked nice when I originally did it but time and weather has undone it all. Most of the caps have fallen off due over the years as the glue has given out.

So, to give the deck a new look and some more light, the Wife found and ordered solar light caps. They are kind of like squatty looking lightpost lamps, with a solar panel on the top to charge a pair of AA batteries that in turn run a couple of LED’s.

The lamps arrived today, and there is some assembly required. Specifically, the tops need to be taken off and the batteries installed. At which point, they need to be set out in the Sun to charge the batteries.

Seems like a great job for a couple of kids to take care of tomorrow.

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A Letter for the Boy

I handed the letter to the boy and he was initially excited. He figured it was from his martial arts instructors congratulating him on his latest belt advancement. So I pointed out the return address area on the envelope and he immediately became more subdued.

It was from the school.

But mail is mail, especially when you’re 9 so he ripped it open with some enthusiasm and pulled out the contents. Two sheets of paper. One had a list of the other students in his class. The other was a letter from his teacher.

At first, he was upset because there are 9 girls in his class, which is apparently 9 too many. “My WHOLE class is girls!” he claimed. I pointed out that the 8 other boys in his class would probably disagree with his assessment. After doing the math, he still felt it was 9 too many girls in the class. But he wasn’t as upset anymore.

Then he read through the letter, which was just a quick intro of his teacher as well as some of the topics they’d be covering this year- more math, more reading, more writing, book reports, physics (well- studying motion anyway) and a couple of neat field trips. He wasn’t excited about the reading, the writing, or the math. He thought the physics (motion!) stuff might be interesting, but then went into a rant about how it would probably be “babyish.”

After a few more moments reflection, he declared “I think I know why I hate school. It’s too slow for me.”

I almost choked on the air I breathed in.

I’ll have to remember this one when that first book report comes due and he’s whining at me “I CAN’T DO IT! IT’S TOO HARRRRRRRRRRRRD!”

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Walking Amongst the Wealthy

The last couple of days gave the kids a chance to see what money can buy. Yesterday was spent in the company of the Vanderbilts. Today, we visited with the Pequots.

Visiting with the Vanderbilts up here in New England means visiting the mansions in Newport, Rhode Island. They were responsible for a number of those “Summer Cottages”. In particular, we checked out The Breakers and The Marble House. The Breakers was built for Cornelius Vanderbilt, grandson of The Commodore. It is the largest of all the mansions in Newport, and it also what has to be the best view.

Amusingly, when we first got to The Breakers and started approaching, the first thing the boy said was “I thought it would be bigger.” Keep in mind, The Breakers is a 4 story mansion with 70 rooms. Upon entry through the main doors, one steps up a series of stairs and into the Great Hall, which is roughly 60 feet high, 60 feet wide and 60 feet long. To that point, one has only just begun touring the The Breakers. A two-story, 2000 square foot home could easily fit into the dining room.

After walking through the whole thing, the boy had changed his mind a bit about it’s size. His favorite room was the Dining Room. The Wife was thoroughly impressed by the kitchen, particularly the 26 foot long stove and oven. Both kids took interest in some of the various rules of the household. For instance, there no kids were allowed in the Dining Room in the Vanderbilt’s day. Similarly, no women were allowed in a game room off the Great Hall, and no men were allowed in a corner study room, also just off the Great Hall.

A couple of hours later, we drove down the road a piece to The Marble House. It too was Vanderbilt property, built for Alva Vanderbilt. Over 500,000 cubic feet of marble was used to construct it. The Marble House isn’t as impressive as The Breakers, but it’s still an astonishing building to visit.

Of the two, both kids were more impressed with The Breakers.

Having seen what old money could accomplish, today we went to the Pequot Museum. Actually, the visit had nothing to do with wealth in that regard. But it’s hard to go to the Pequot Reervation and not be impressed with what they’ve accomplished in the past 30 years or so. The museum is there to document the heritage of the Pequots as well as their climb back from near extinction. The building is an impressive structure in it’s own right, with a large glass atrium. They spared little expense in creating it. The Foxwood’s Resort is the most famous part of the reservation, but it’s far from the only part. The museum itself was large enough that we were unable to see it entirely.

We ended our trip with a ride up to the top of an observation tower at the museum. I’d say it stands about 13 stories high and provides a nice view of the countryside. The elevator ride is tough for someone with an aversion to heights- after the initial couple of floors, the shaft opens up on 3 sides so the riders can watch their own ascent. It’s … disconcerting would be one way to put it. The kids had their fun at my expense for a bit. At least I wasn’t screaming and clawing to get out.

Incidentally, when we got up to the top, I could swear I could feel that thing swaying. Just a bit. The kids spent the whole time running from one glass panel to the next, looking out and down. I stood in the center and tried to look out. No need to look down.

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Old Meets New

On the left is a more recent Tamiya Plasma Edge R/C car that the boy got for his birthday. It’s comes as an unassembled kit. The boy worked on it for about a week with some help from me, of course. The car has been runnable for a couple months now, but we just got the paint job done yesterday.

On the right is a 25 year old RC10. Technically, my brother built it. I say technically because I also had an identical kit of my own that I built up. When we told my parents their grandson had a tenth scale R/C car of his own now, they pulled out all the old R/C equipment from when my brother and I had used them. My R/C car was in a massive state of disassembly. My brother had scavenged parts from my car over the years to keep his running. So to my way of thinking, this one is 50% mine. Plus, it’s my blog…

As far as rewarding projects go, it’s hard to top an R/C car like this one. It’s 4WD and out of the box, tops out at about 25 MPH. I’d say it’s better than building a model car because the whole point of assembling this one is getting to run it around when assembly is completed. The boy has been particularly proud of the fact that he assembled so much of it one his own. Really, the only thing I did was tighten screws and check his progress along the way. It really was his project, as I intended it.

Frankly, I’m kinda proud of myself for managing to stick to that last part.

Yesterday, we finished the paint job. The boy had picked out that blue color. I masked off the windows with tape, and he painted the black for the windows while I did the initial coat of the blue. I explained that the coat had to be light because otherwise, the paint would run under the tape edges and it wouldn’t look good. After the first coat setup, he took care of the rest.

The rest of the look are stickers that came with the kit. Again, the boy took care of putting those on. I helped a bit with a couple of the longer ones so there were no bubbles or puckers in the stickers. Nothing like a pucker to ruin a nice sticker job.

When he’d finished and reassembled it, he just sat there, staring at the car. He said “I can’t believe I made that. It looks like something I bought from a store.”

That brought a smile. He’d experienced the pleasure and pride in a job well done. That’s something I hope he becomes very familiar with.

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Unfairly Maligned

So I had a minor, very minor, kerfluffle with the boy last night. He was playing video games prior to bed time. The Wife had given him a 10 minute warning, or whatever. In the meantime, the lass had headed to bed and the boy remained downstairs. His 10 minutes came and went. The Wife was still upstairs, so I stepped in.

I called down to him that it was time to go to bed and to turn off the games. A not unimportant tidbit, he’d already been playing for a good portion of the day.

The whole thing should have been done right there. All he had to do was acknowledge he’d heard me and start shutting things down. Instead, he snapped at me with an impertinence I found completely unacceptable. So I yelled at him, which he didn’t appreciate. Further, he tried to turn things on their head by claiming I yelled at him because he was still playing games. He even tried to “tell” on me, enlisting the support of his mother. I corrected his misleading statement, and reiterated there would have been no yelling if he’d hadn’t snapped at me in the first place. At that point, he was in bed and I figured the whole thing was done.

Until this evening, when he was again given a 10 minute warning by the Wife. At which point, he asked her to be sure to tell me so I wouldn’t start yelling at him again.

I’m now a victim of historical revisionism. Apparently, in his mind, I went storming down there last night yelling and screaming all because he was playing video games. He wasn’t impertinent, merely an undeserving victim of Dad’s temper.

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First Night Goofies

We’re up in Maine for a couple of days.  The Wife decided to take us along on one of her business trips.  The room was already paid for and she was driving up anyway, so why not?

I’m currently waiting for the two of them to expend their goofiness.  We had a nice dinner with the Wife’s colleagues, but now the kids are all ramped up in the hotel room.  We got back late enough that it was basically time for them to got to bed.

Getting them ready wasn’t any trouble.  Getting them to actually go to sleep is proving to be very difficult.

First, there’s the novelty of them sleeping in the same bed.  So they have to wrestle over the covers, the pillow, and their territory.  Then, there’s the overwhelming urge to reach out and POKE! one another.  Then the giggles start.  Then they quiet down long for a bit before the next wave of giggles start.  Then one of them farts.

You get the idea.

In the meantime, I try to be judicious with my interventions.  I let them go on for abit, thinking they’ll burn themselves out.  But that takes too long.

Then I sternly tell them to settle down.  That’s followed with a “Yeah!” from one to the other.  Then more giggling. 

I wait a bit longer, then try it again.  After repeating the same pattern several times, I start to get more menacing.  They’ll sleep on the floor; they’ll regret it tomorrow.  Now, we move to the scenario where one is actually trying to go to sleep, but the other isn’t obliging.

Then, they try to blame me for not being able to sleep because I have a light on.  I point out that the light has nothing to do with it and that the two of them have been goofing off the entire time- THAT’S why the can’t sleep.

Finally, now they have settled down, the novelty of the room and situation having run its course.  I didn’t even have to scream myself horse.

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The Wife: 1 – The Boy: 0

Generally speaking, eating isn’t a problem for us with the kids. They more or less eat whatever we cook. That’s not to say they always like what we serve, but after a little kvetching they tend to give up, hold their nose and eat.

When they really don’t want to eat something, they have one well they like to go to- the “I’m not hungry anymore” well. They don’t realize it, but they almost always give the game away because they’ll look at their plate and then declare that they aren’t that hungry.

Such was last night’s dinner experience with the boy. The Wife wasn’t fooled though- after a day at the beach where they both spent almost the entire time in the water there was NO way he wasn’t hungry. The Wife opted to bide her time, so she bagged up the food he wouldn’t eat and waited.

We went to a fireworks display later that evening. In the bag the Wife put together, she also included the doggie bag of the boy’s leftover denner. She made sure the boy knew the food was there in case he got hungry. The fireworks were a town event and had all sorts of vendors present. Of particular importance was the ice cream vendor.

The Wife went and grabbed the lass, myself and herself some ice cream cones. At the time, the boy was quietly reading The Order of the Phoenix on our blanket. He watched the Wife hand out ice cream to everyone except him. The look on his face told the story- he’d been caught. His desire for ice cream overrode his disdain for dinner. Wordlessly, he went into the bag and pulled out his leftover dinner and finished eating it.

Then, he got his ice cream.

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Still No Patience

In addition to the patio stuff we’re doing in the back yard, we’ll also be getting a pool. The kids are, unsurprisingly, very excited about it.

In a perfect world, the pool would have been installed a couple of weeks ago like we were initially told. Thankfully, it is not a perfect world. The reasons are pretty simple, the unpredictable weather kept them from getting other installs done, so we got bumped back.

Try explaining that to a kid.

As I said, I was glad for the delay. It allowed me to get the pavers installed before the pool was in. Why was that a big deal? Here’s why:

Those are sitting right where the pool will be going. If the pavers couldn’t be there, then they’d be in the driveway which would have been a long walk with all of those.

Kids don’t understand that though. Rather, they only see a pile of dirt where a pool is supposed to be.

So last week, we though the pool would be installed while we were visiting family. Unfortunately, the weather once again prevented that from coming to fruition. So when we arrived home, the kids were just short of despondent. In fact, they were now convinced that the pool would never be installed.

Then, almost magically, the installers arrived this morning. The kids were now positively giddy- convinced the pool would be done today. Welcome to the bipolar nature of kids managing their expectations. The Wife ended up taking them to the local swimming hole because she didn’t want to listen to the equipment. I stayed behind to finish the paver cuts.

Suffice it to say, the pool still isn’t installed. But the site is all prepped and ready for the pool to be set on it on Monday. Arguably, they got the most important part done.

When the boy and the lass arrived home, the both came dashing out to the back with the boy declaring “I was right- they didn’t do anything while we were gone.” Even with the pretty clear evidence of the work that had been done.

There is just no satisfying their expectations.

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The Boy Suspects

While visiting with my parents, the boy lost another tooth. Actually, it was more like he decided to pull it out than he “lost” it. Regardless, the result was the same. Namely, there’s a big gap in his mouth where a tooth used to be and he had a trade item for the Tooth Fairy.

But would the Tooth Fairy know that he’d lost his tooth if he wasn’t home?

It seemed to me that this wasn’t the first time he’d lost a tooth away from home, but I wasn’t going to go there. He did his thing wrapping the tooth up and then set it under his pillow. The Tooth Fairy delivered $5 for his tooth this time. JACKPOT!

The following day, while waiting for Grandpa in the Lowe’s parking lot, the boy asked “Dad, is the Tooth Fairy real?”

I had about a half-a-moment to decide how to play this scenario. I could exuberantly say things like “Of course!” or I could say something like “No.” I opted for door number three:

“Why do you ask?”

I figured I’d see what line of reasoning had led him to ask the question.

“Well, I think that probably you and Mom or Grandma and Grandpa just took my tooth and gave me $5. It just doesn’t seem like the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus are really real. I think parents do all that stuff.”

He said all this kind of sheepishly- like he had stumbled upon a great truth that he didn’t particularly like. At that moment, he seemed like an older boy who wanted to be a little boy. He also seemed kind of hesitant in his answer, perhaps that was just his hope that there really was that kind of magic in the world.

I continued to be non-committal, “Do you really think parents would go through all that trouble? That we’d put that much work into Christmas and Easter and every time you lose a tooth?” I had a smirk on my face the whole time- couldn’t help myself. I’m not sure how he interpreted it.

He seemed to think about it a bit, and then said “I don’t know.” I waited a bit more, watching him he seemed to be trying to make a decision of some sort.

Finally, he said “Nevermind.”

And that was it.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit sad that he has figured it out, mostly. Even if he doesn’t want to completely believe it yet, he’s clearly growing up and his ability to apply logic and reason are leading him places that are probably uncomfortable for him to go. The little boy is giving way to something else. With that, some of the fun that the Wife and I had listening to them talk about magic and myth will pass.

On the other hand, I felt a sort of pride that he has started to reason it out. I don’t know if this is the normal time for kids to do so, it seems likely, but either way it was a process he’d have to undergo sooner or later. I’m sure it won’t be entirely easy for him, and when he finally makes up his mind I’m sure he’ll be disappointed.

But Mom and Dad will still be there for him, just like we always have.

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The Kids Can be Good

One aspect of the progress I’ve made with the patio over the past couple of days actually has nothing to do with the project directly. And yet, without it, I could never have been so productive. The kids behavior has been exceptional.

Starting Tuesday morning, I worked straight through the day. Today, I went to my martial arts class and when I got home, worked straight through until it was time to get ready for the boy’s class. So we’re talking hours of time where the kids had little to no supervision, or refereeing.

During that time, they took time to get me water, since the past couple of days have been so hot. They also made themselves their own lunch, and also took the time to make me a lunch yesterday. They also helped prepare dinner last night, taking the food out of the freezer and doing the initial food prep. They’ve also aided in some quick grocery store trips, and trip to the pet store for dog food, emptied the dishwasher and put away their laundry.

Most importantly, they haven’t been fighting at all so I haven’t had to resolve any conflicts in a fatigued state. That rarely works well for them.

I don’t say any of this to brag, as I’m sure that in another day or two they’ll revert to their mean. But they’ve shown what they are capable of over the past couple of days. And that’s been encouraging.

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The Hard Way

Sportsmanship is a difficult lesson for kids to learn. I know this not due to my own experience with the kids, but also because I’ve gleaned it from other parents. We sit and talk about it and the same things keep coming up, the same problems encountered, the same stories are told with seemingly only the names changing along the way.

We had our year-end Cub Scout campout this past weekend and I was afforded an opportunity to give the boy a lesson in sportsmanship. Within our Pack, we have a game called Ga-Ga. It’s basically like a game of dodge-ball on a small court. The rules are few and simple and the result it that the games are fast and plenty.

My opportunity arrived when I looked over and saw the boy kicking the ball away from the court. There was a smattering of exasperated “Comeon”‘s from the other kids. I stepped into the fray at that point, ordering the boy to bring me the ball and hand it to me.

So when he walked over, picked the ball up and kicked it at me, I swatted it back at him and told him to HAND IT TO ME. He finally did. At which point I turned and handed the ball back to the kids playing in the Ga-Ga court. I then turned back to the boy and told him “You’re done playing for the rest of the day.”

I can’t say for sure, but I think he’d been prepared for me to ban him for awhile. But I’m sure he didn’t think I’d ban him for the rest of the day. It was only mid afternoon and there was still lot’s of Ga-Ga to play. The realization that it would all take place without him didn’t set well with him, to say the least. I finally had enough of his complaining and started in on him “This isn’t the first time I’ve had this conversation with you, and it probably won’t be the last. Your behavior was completely out of line and I won’t let you get away with it. So you are done, for the day. You don’t want to listen to me when I tell you to calm down; you don’t seem to understand that it is just a game and unimportant in the scheme of things. So now, you will sit and watch while your friends play.”

He continued to protest, even threatening to never play any sports again. I ignored his drama. He eventually found other things to do, though every now and again he’d ask if he could join the kids playing Ga-Ga. I told him the same thing each time he’d ask “I told you- you’re done for the day and I meant it.” Ga-Ga was played until it was almost dark out. At one point, the kids even lined the court with their flashlights so they could play “Night Ga-Ga.”

The boy watched.

The next morning, more games were started up just after breakfast and before we started packing up the camp. The boy asked if he could join the games. I told him he could.

At one point, I looked over while they were playing. A bunch of kids yelled that the boy had been hit. He quietly stepped out of the court and waited for the current game to end and the next one to begin. Perhaps he finally learned a lesson about sportsmanship.

At least for this weekend.

Categories
Family

From the Low Tolerance Files

The boy was upset with his sister this morning.

In many ways, that statement is like the proverbial “man bits dog” statement. For the time being, it’s the safe way to bet that the two of them will be at each other’s throats in one way or another. It so happens that this morning the boy seemed particularly irked by the fact that, well, his sister exists.

First, it was arguments over breakfast and that she was constantly in his way. Then, he was upset when she reached for a bag of Doritos for her lunch because he also was having Doritos with his lunch. He was convinced that she was copying him and this naturally morphed into the more general complaint that “she always copies” me.

The Wife and I both told him to drop it and worry about himself. The whole exchange culminated with a trip to the corner for him because he “wished his sister wasn’t born sometimes.”

He finally had a little breakfast and subsequently hings quieted down until we got into the car. She was riding shotgun and he was directly behind her in the back seat. For whatever reason, she turned around to look at a car that had passed us. Suddenly, the boy jabbed his fingers into her face. He didn’t want her staring at her.

I yelled at him yet again, (“You could poke an eye out!” It felt so cliched.) including telling him for the millionth time that he needs to find other things to get annoyed about.

I remember my own days of being annoyed at things my younger siblings did. I realize now I really should have spent my energies on other things, though I’m pretty sure at the time whatever annoyance my brother and my sister were creating was the most important thing in the whole world. This appears to be the stage the boy is going through. Hopefully, he’ll take the nagging to heart at some point, finally realizing the truly minor nature of the annoyances his sister presents.

Categories
Family

Nagging Can Work

I’ve written quite a bit over the past school year’s worth of homework about the boy’s writing assignments. He has his strengths, mainly in the creativity department, and his weaknesses which, initially, were pretty much everything else. Terrible spelling, terrible grammar, terrible structure.

Last week saw another type of writing brought into the fold: book report type writing. He’s been asked to read from a book and then write short summaries of what he reads each day, with a final summary to be turned in at the end of the week. There are also a group of questions which he can choose from which forces him to think a little deeper about what he read.

He’s been very studious about getting the work done. Mostly because it gives him an excuse to continue reading the Harry Potter series, I imagine. The assignment calls for him to read for 20 minutes, but the Wife and I both suggested he just read a chapter each day. He’s been happy to oblige.

The Wife and I have both been pleasantly surprised with his summary paragraphs. He’s finally seems to be getting better at organizing the thoughts in his head before setting them to paper and the results, while not perfect, are markedly improved. To the point where the Wife and I have just been pointing out spelling mistakes, as opposed to having him rewrite the paragraphs. I’d personally still like to see him write drafts and then do the final. But for the way this assignment works, he’s doing it well enough that I’m not going to pick a fight with him over that quibble.

That only took a year.

Categories
Family

To The Bitter End

I get that we’re finally coming down to the final few weeks of school. In fact, I think we’re coming up on 2 weeks to go. Naturally, effort levels are starting to tail off a bit, even if the homework load is not.

We’ve fought the boy for most of the year where his writing assignments are concerned. His priority is getting them done. Our priority is trying to teach him some good habits now while getting him to do the work as well. Those habits include spelling, grammar and punctuation. The ability to write well about a subject comes with time, reading and practice.

Per his usual, tonight the boy just wanted to complete his homework, which involved writing 2 paragraphs about some reading he’d chosen. He needed to write a summary paragraph about the reading and then write a paragraph to answer one of five potential questions. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with answering the question, so I was helping him by asking him questions to get him thinking about what he needed to write.

Except the boy wasn’t trying. I’d ask him a question, he’d mumble a reply. I’d try another angle, he’d mumble another reply. I’d finally get him to answer a question, then he’d just sit there doing nothing. This went on for the better part of 30 minutes. It was getting close to his bed time.

Most importantly, I was getting frustrated. Mostly, at his gross lack of effort. So I started yelling.

He almost immediately teared up. I didn’t have, nor did I want to, yell for very long. I was mad at myself for yelling, but internally I was shrugging because what else could I have done? He simply wasn’t even trying to do the work well. I was trying harder than he was, and it wasn’t my homework!

We finally finished working through the assignment. Mostly because his effort level improved so dramatically. He’ll have to write a final draft in the morning, but the hard part is all done.

After he brushed his teeth, but before he went to bed, I pulled him aside and hugged him and said “Don’t make me yell at you anymore.”

He hugged me back, “I don’t like it when you yell at me.”

“I don’t like yelling at you,” I replied.

“I try to not make you yell at me, but I keep slipping up.” I didn’t answer him back.

In a couple more weeks, we’ll all get a break from homework. It will be welcome.

Categories
Family

A Little Too Hard on the Kids

Perhaps it was because I had dug out about 7 yards of dirt by hand, so I was tired and a bit edgy. Perhaps it was because temps hit around 90 yesterday while I was doing all that digging. Perhaps it was because the digging was particularly difficult since the earth I was digging in was a devilish mixture of clay, sand and rock. Perhaps it was because while all this was going on, the kids were climbing around the 2 massive dirt piles I’d built up, getting ridiculously dirty and having fun.

Perhaps it was a bit of all of the above.

I made the kids help me dig for a bit yesterday. I knew they would have difficulty doing it, but I made them do it anyway. When I first told them to start helping, they both probably thought it was one of those one-off threat-request parents make and never follow-up with.

But I did this time. If I’d cared to look, I might have seen the surprised look on their faces when I insisted they pick up shovels and start digging. “Hey,” I told myself, “I’m giving them the easiest part of the digging.”

So they struggled with it for about 5 minutes, while I continued to labor away. I glanced over and they were displaying all the classic signs of boredom: not doing what had been asked, drawing pictures in the dirt, sitting where they should have been digging and generally getting distracted by every little thing.

It annoyed me (see the first paragraph). I’d compelled asked them to help and they could barely do it for more than a few minutes. I’d been out there for several hours already. I made my displeasure with their efforts known.

They tried again to get something done, but they ran into difficulty quickly again and were clearly stalling and looking for an excuse to bolt.

I took a moment. I was sweating, hot, exhausted and not done. The work was difficult for me. What, exactly, was I proving making them do this? Sure, on the one hand they’d dug many a hole under the deck prior to all this work- but that was in the context of play. I wasn’t playing a game. At least, not the kind of game they were ready to participate in.

So what was my point making them do this work? Give them a chance to prove to themselves they could do it? Give them perspective so they’d appreciate the work I was doing? Was this a lesson worth spending my, severely depleted, energy on now?

What could only have been my more rational side convinced me this wasn’t the time or place. I was making them do work they weren’t capable of performing, in conditions they weren’t really ready for, for reasons I could barely articulate to myself. In reality, I figured, I would only make them hate working with me on big projects.

I finally relented and let them go back to playing. There was still a part of me that didn’t agree with the choice. That felt they needed to be made to do this. If not now, when? They need to learn how to be able to knuckle down and do work. If I don’t stick to my guns, they’ll always bail on projects that are too hard, or not fun.

True as those things might be, I slowly came to realize, it wasn’t going to happen on a too-hot Saturday afternoon under our deck.