The Boy « Kymlee Is Awesome

Category: The Boy

Jan 07

The Boy is Awesome! He Get it From His Momma

Got a call from the boy’s teacher again. The boy had forgotten his homework and was in danger of missing the big field trip later in the year. There was a three strike rule after all, and he had just earned his second strike.

I was a little upset of course, partially because I know the boy works hard; doing hours of homework, making sure I check it (the boy is relentless), reading the decodable books over and over…I get exhausted just watching…

What made me think twice about coming down hard on him were my plurk friends who reminded me that the boy is amazingly independent and responsible for a six year old. Not so long ago, I talked about how much he misses me. Despite his teacher’s insistence that he’s acting out and attention seeking, when we’re at home, the boy seems to be doing just fine (stupid adults). So instead of chastising him, I showered him with hugs and kisses, told him I’m proud of him, that he was a great kid, that he was working really hard, and it would be a shame for him to miss out on the field trip because he forgot to turn his work in.

My plurk friends are right though. Since I’ve been working from home, I wake the boy up as I’m walking out the door. Sometimes, he’s up before that, getting in the shower, picking out his clothes and such; most of the time, needing no help from me. If he’s hungry, he even get’s his own breakfast (no he’s not cooking yet, but he can certainly make cheese toast, pour himself some cereal or toast some Eggos). Of course he’s not home alone, but my sister usually sleeps through both of our early morning routine so he’s doing it all by himself. He’s 6!

So Mr. Teacher sir, you can kiss mine and the boy’s awesome asses. We’re both doing the best we can and if that’s not good enough for your stupid field trip, then I’ll take the boy somewhere special on my own. You may not want to leave him behind, but I’ll tell you what he’ll learn if you do. It won’t be that hard work is rewarded. Instead, he’ll learn that no matter how hard you work, you’ll never be good enough.

That is what breaks my heart the most. That for all his hard work and self sufficiency, he’ll be punished for forgetting his homework a few times. I’m pretty sure, Mr. Teacher, that you’ve forgotten things even as an adult, but because you are an adult, no one told you (either verbally or with negative reinforcement) that your hard work was for naught.

The lessons the boy is getting from having to do so much on his own are just as important as learning to read and do math; just as important as doing homework and memorizing some list of words…As he grows up, he will emerge as one of the most mature, well rounded, confident, compassionate, intelligent and critical thinking kids in his generation; largely due to his being the only child (living with) his single mother. You might think his forgetting his homework is irresponsible, but the fact that he makes it to school everyday without much help from anyone sounds like he’s pretty damned responsible to me.

Yes, the boy is awesome!

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Posted in Parenting, The Boy

Dec 23

Why Can’t They Just be Happy?!

I was going to write something heart warming about my son being home for the holidays. I’ve missed him so and I just wanted to be positive about the whole thing. It sucks wasting precious time on negative energy…but dammit, this visit is much harder than I anticipated.

I wanted us to spend time together laughing and cherishing the few moments we have…He’s only going to be here until the 31, not even two full weeks. Instead I’ve been mediating silly misunderstandings between the boys, which I suppose is normal, but I just wanted them to hang out, have fun and love each other.

Well…when I walked in from work today, my sister was yelling at the boys about roughhousing too much. They had spent what little dry part of the day outside but were still bubbling over with energy and she wasn’t having it. Apparently they had been wrestling and doing what boys do. The problem is that the little one couldn’t really hang and kept getting hurt…which is precisely why I hate that sort of play in the first place.

After I dealt with the initial drama I thought everything would be cool. The boys went into their room to play and were fine for a while until I hear the E yell “I’m sorry B! I’m sorry!” Then dramatic sobbing.

Dammit! What now?!

Breathe…breathe…

E was sitting on his bed still boo-hooing. I resisted the urge to grumble inwardly as I walked over to the bed, hearing B’s voice but not being able to figure out where he was.

“He’s under the bed mom,” E said.

“What’s wrong now?” Unfortunately my exasperation came through and the water works on E were going again. “What’s going on?”

E squealed something about B being mad at because he’d accidentally hurt B’s finger… sobbing

B interjected, “But I’m not mad. It’s just… indecipherable sobbing

What the hell?!

“Come from under there, and both of you…stop crying,” my voice was getting louder, but I didn’t want to yell. They were hysterical and needed me to be calm. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

B: He hurt my finger, but it was an accident and he keeps saying I’m mad…and I’m not,” he squeaked the end as he held back the tears; lip quivering.

E: I said sorry, but he’s still mad at me sobbing

“He said he’s not mad,” I snapped. “How frustrating it must be that you insist he is mad, when he keeps telling you he’s not.”

B: This is why I play alone! Every time I play with someone they get hurt! huge dramatic sob

I felt like I was in some sort of warped universe. I had no idea what was going on. B obviously wasn’t talking about his finger being hurt and E was just upset because he thought he had hurt his brother. B kept saying, “I’m not used to playing with other people,” and my heart was breaking because all I wanted them to do is play and enjoy each other’s company.

Me: You have to be able to play with your brother-

B: But I can’t play with him because he’s just going to get hurt…

M: Stop focusing on something that’s over and move on to the next thing…

‘Round and round we went, until I just held them both close to me, shushing them. “Stop, stop, stop.”

Finally B pulled away and said “I just need a few minutes alone.”

“Ok,” I stood up and reached out for E’s hand. “But B, don’t wallow. Use this time to calm yourself down. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

I didn’t have time to go back to check on him before he came into my room, where E and I were slightly distressed about not being able to console B.

B: Can I talk to mom alone please?

E gave his brother a hug and smiles as he closes the door behind him.

B: You know how I was telling you that I’m used to playing alone? (I nod ) Well it’s because I don’t have any friends…the kids, they all make fun of me…”

So now we get to the root of the issue; he’s an outcast. Well, not much you can do about that other than develop thick skin and sharp wit with which to confuse any potential bullies. I told him that I understood and that he would have to be real strong. Let them hate, because people who pick on others only do it to feel better about themselves.

We had a nice long talk, followed by a group hug. We ate dinner, read a bed time story and now I’m exhausted.

Add to all of this that I forgot something really important for my mother, which I don’t even have the energy to get into…

All in all, an emotionally draining, shitty evening. sigh

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Posted in My Life, Parenting, The Boy Boys Children Danger Duo family Stress

Dec 02

The Boy Misses His Mommy

I got a call from the boy’s teacher. We had actually been playing phone tag for a few days. It was parent teacher conference time and I was not available during the hours he wanted to meet. We planned to meet via phone but in the meantime he had something he was concerned about…

The boy was crying and acting out…”attention seeking” the teacher said.

“I’m doing my best to show him positive attention but I was wondering if anything was going on at home…?”

I knew right away what the deal was; the boy gave me a big fat hint not long before I got the call from teacher.

“He misses me,” I said resolutely. “I had been working from home for almost three years and now I work in an office.”

I replayed the last couple of months back in my head, trying to think if I had neglected spending time with the boy when I had it. No…we’d gone to our favorite breakfast spot twice last month, cuddled with each other on Saturday mornings, spent hours at our favorite coffee shop playing Mancala, I make him breakfast before school…There was only so much I could do without losing my own mommy time. And mommy is not happy when she doesn’t have her quiet time…

After taking inventory of mommy/boy quality time, I was confident that the issue was more that he was used to me always being around and now I wasn’t around nearly as much. I wasn’t see him off properly in the morning; not around to meet him at his classroom after school or to help him with his homework in the evenings (I expect it done by the time I get home)…He missed his mommy.

So I’ve been super affectionate and attentive the last week or so. I’m a little conflicted though, because I understand how the transition can be tough, but he’s not the first kid to have a working single mother. I’m torn between feeling his pain and thinking he should just get used to seeing me less.

Last Saturday, we went to breakfast and he tagged along while I ran errands in the morning. It was wonderful…just me and the boy. It made me miss the older boy a little because we used to do the same sort of thing on Saturdays before he moved across the country with his father.

sigh

We’ll all be together for Christmas and then I’ll soak up all the boy cuddles and affection I can stand. For now, I’ll have to be sensitive to the little dude’s discomfort with the change.

Change sometimes difficult after all…

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Posted in My Life, Parenting, The Boy Love Transition Work/Life Balance

Sep 28

They Made Fun of Me!

Yesterday the boy ran into the house screaming. This is not an unusual occurrence, he is a very sensitive and kind soul, and many of the other kids either take advantage of him or make fun of his uniqueness.

So he runs into the house and slams the door. I walk down the stairs to find him crying his eyes out ito a pillow, on the living room sofa.

“What happened?” I asked giving him a squeeze.

“They made fun of me!” He bawled.

“For what honey?”

“I fell and they made fun of me!” As he answered the questions, he alternately lifed his head and went back to crying into the pillow.

“Oh honey,” I said enacting phase one of Operation Console the Boy. He was hysteriacal over some kids laughing at him? Inside I was rolling my eyes, but I had to validate how he felt. I rubbed his back and encouraged him to get himself together.

Phase two is kind of tricky. If I didn’t chose my words just so, he would implode again and think I didn’t understand.

“You know, it sucks when people make fun of you, but that’s what kids do.” I paused and took a deep breath. He was truly being inconsolable and my patience was wearing thin. “Look at me boy.”

The sharp tone in my voice shook him out of his hysteria slightly and he looked me in the eyes, sniffling and trying to catch his breath.

“They didn’t mean anything by it -”

“Yes they did!” Back to bawling.

“Honey…I mean…Yes, they were being mean and -”

The head pops up as he shouts, “They hurt my feelings!”

“I’m sorry about that; I really am. And I understand how upsetting that can be. But you cannot get this hysterical every time someone makes fun of you honey,” I was rubbing his back, wishing he would just calm down. “Buck up boy, get yourself together. I need to give you someinformation that will help you deal wit this next time.”

Eyes swollen and wet, he looked at me and did the crying hiccups.

“It sucks that they made fun ofyou when you fell. I’ve never thought that sort of thing was funny, but most kids and even some adults disagree. Them laughing wasn’t about you, but because they are kids and that’s what kids do. You reacting in this way gives them way too much power. You’re going to have to learn not to let it get to you like this. Next time, take a deep breath, and let it go.

He turned away, looking throught the glass patio door. Wiping his tears away with the back of this hand, the boy discarded the pillow and asked, “Can I go back outside?”

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Posted in Parenting, The Boy growing pains mean kids