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| Lady Gaga |
3.30.2011
Kit's first portrait
Facing the devil in the mirror
A twist of fate has surprisingly brought my own self doubt and bullied treatment as a child to the forefront of my life. I learned today that I have a cancer on my upper lip. Nothing really new about that. I've had several skin lesions removed from my face, some serious, most just unsightly, because I spent my childhood on the beach with no such thing as sunscreen. What makes this different is that the doctor said it will need minor surgery which will require shaving off my moustache.
I've worn this fur on my lip ever since my face could create it. I've shaved the chin and sides in a variety of ways over the years but never touched the 'stash. Why? To cover my puffy and disfigured cleft lip. Doing this now will expose something I've not had to show since I was 21. It is amazing the emotions this dredges up that I thought didn't even exist anymore. I can talk about it freely and dissect the problems a cleft lip has caused me in childhood, but actually baring it to the air is a whole other thing.
At the age of 14 I admitted to my mother I wanted to grow a moustache. For some reason she didn't connect the dots and thought this was the funniest thing. To my horror she repeated this "amusing" story for years to everyone, drawing attention to my ugly shame each and every time. So here I am in my fifties, feeling like that kid, a fresh humiliation waiting for me.
Of course, I know that's not going to happen. My family and friends wouldn't even think it. Neither did my mother, which is why she thought it funny. But the mistreated kid on the playground, the lopsided face in the mirror, the ultra shy boy who couldn't make friends lurks under a not so thick matte of lip hair.
Unfortunately, this noma is probably mela and needs to be excised so I must face a demon worse than cancer to remove it. It is truly amazing what lies buried in our deep past waiting to bite us if we're not prepared. In the end, this won't be that big a deal but it illustrates just how connected we remain to past life, fears and anxieties.
Do we ever really survive childhood or are we all destined to play grown up while our feet never quite reach the floor under the table?
I've worn this fur on my lip ever since my face could create it. I've shaved the chin and sides in a variety of ways over the years but never touched the 'stash. Why? To cover my puffy and disfigured cleft lip. Doing this now will expose something I've not had to show since I was 21. It is amazing the emotions this dredges up that I thought didn't even exist anymore. I can talk about it freely and dissect the problems a cleft lip has caused me in childhood, but actually baring it to the air is a whole other thing.
At the age of 14 I admitted to my mother I wanted to grow a moustache. For some reason she didn't connect the dots and thought this was the funniest thing. To my horror she repeated this "amusing" story for years to everyone, drawing attention to my ugly shame each and every time. So here I am in my fifties, feeling like that kid, a fresh humiliation waiting for me.
Of course, I know that's not going to happen. My family and friends wouldn't even think it. Neither did my mother, which is why she thought it funny. But the mistreated kid on the playground, the lopsided face in the mirror, the ultra shy boy who couldn't make friends lurks under a not so thick matte of lip hair.
Unfortunately, this noma is probably mela and needs to be excised so I must face a demon worse than cancer to remove it. It is truly amazing what lies buried in our deep past waiting to bite us if we're not prepared. In the end, this won't be that big a deal but it illustrates just how connected we remain to past life, fears and anxieties.
Do we ever really survive childhood or are we all destined to play grown up while our feet never quite reach the floor under the table?
3.28.2011
Congratulations, it's a girl!
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| Liz & Tio |
The most amazing thing about the whole day was watching Tio and Liz together. Even though they haven't seen each other in a decade, they look, act and sound the same. Like twins separated at birth. They have the same facial expressions, same slang and hand signs, same inflection in their voices. Across the table from each other it was like watching a split screen mirror image all through dinner. The way they laughed and said 'sorry' after stepping out of line was too uncanny.
Blood really is thicker than water. Family has a tendency to grow at its own pace whether you're ready for it or not. What matters most is how you accept and move into the future together. I guess we have a brand new 13 year old granddaughter.
I like the sound of that.
Learning to really listen is no easy task
The boys didn’t have such a great weekend. Kit popped a crown on one of his teeth and lost the earring I made for his birthday. Tio was told not to come back again if he didn’t want to be there, after suggesting the only reason he came was to give me a break, and a threat of police intervention came when he tried to separate Doc and Kit in a fight. All three boys fought and argued and said tempers were high and the tension was through the roof pretty much from the moment they left here to when they came home. They said no one sets any limits and they stayed up all night watching horror movies and R rated television. Grandpa yelled and Grandma cried.
I wasn’t there and I imagine the reality was a variation on most of this, rather than gospel truth. But I do know that when no strong limits are kept with the boys, chaos is the result. I wouldn’t blame Tio for being ambivalent if that’s what a weekend away is like. On the other hand, he can dish as good as he can get so he probably deserves a good share of the blame for the trouble. Kit hardly settles down at the best of times and I know just how capable he is of making those around him miserable. Right now, being there is a hard reminder that his mother has abandoned him. He’s afraid she won’t come back and if she does, what will stop her from taking off again. That’d send any 10 year old through the roof but this boy especially because he dotes on her. And poor Doc is locked in an emotional bind because he feels the loss and trouble but doesn’t understand it. All he can do is act out.
So who’s in charge of this adventure to mom’s family home? Who steps up and says ‘I will make this work for us all no matter what.’? If no one does, things will only deteriorate until there is nothing left of their relationships except fighting and bickering. That serves no one. The boys need some patience and understanding and limits. But most of all, they need someone over there to really listen to them so they can express themselves in ways other than through anger and frustration.
3.27.2011
The busy and unbusy of the weekend
It's late, the house is quiet and I'm wrapping things up myself. The boys are spending another overnight at their other grandparents (that makes 2 in as many weeks) and I feel the house strangely empty. It is nice to have them away, for them and us both, but it is so unusual that it feels odd. When they left this morning the older two were bickering, Tio with huffing impatience, in anticipation of a different set of rules and expectations. While Kit is quietly upset because his mom disappeared three weeks ago and still hasn't called or written or tried to contact him at all. He's afraid she's gone away for good and going to visit her parents without her there is a vivid reminder of that possibility.
A friend came to stay with us for the weekend and we spent the day going walking, watching movies, drinking a few beers and talking about important issues like 'are icebergs salty?' and 'how to market a gas powered snow globe'. All the while my mind was never far from the how the boys are doing and what the landscape of the coming week looks like for them.
We have two doctor appointments, two dentist visits, baseball tryouts, and a new guest coming after school every day. I'll talk about that tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'll get some sleep and unwind tomorrow with my wife and friend. Maybe we can come up with a cure for St. John's Wort.
A friend came to stay with us for the weekend and we spent the day going walking, watching movies, drinking a few beers and talking about important issues like 'are icebergs salty?' and 'how to market a gas powered snow globe'. All the while my mind was never far from the how the boys are doing and what the landscape of the coming week looks like for them.
We have two doctor appointments, two dentist visits, baseball tryouts, and a new guest coming after school every day. I'll talk about that tomorrow. Meanwhile, I'll get some sleep and unwind tomorrow with my wife and friend. Maybe we can come up with a cure for St. John's Wort.
3.25.2011
Tio's wonderful imagination.
Here's a taste of Tio's latest creative writing. He's come a long way. He was given a list of words to include in a short story. He wrote this:
"Ugh. Not again! Please no. This nauseating pain in my stomach was excruciating. This sickness, flu, cold...whatever you want to call it, I had it and so did six other billion people over the Earth. The prescription idea had a folder with the words exterminate all sick beings. My jaw almost fell to my untied shoes. This extraordinary idea was going to kill almost all of the human race!
And I was one of them."
"Ugh. Not again! Please no. This nauseating pain in my stomach was excruciating. This sickness, flu, cold...whatever you want to call it, I had it and so did six other billion people over the Earth. The prescription idea had a folder with the words exterminate all sick beings. My jaw almost fell to my untied shoes. This extraordinary idea was going to kill almost all of the human race!
And I was one of them."
3.24.2011
Grampy's report card: C+ ...maybe a B.
I suppose since I spend so much time doling out Ward Cleaver advice and telling the kids what they need to do, I should shine the light a bit on myself. I know that in general we're on the right track and most of what we do here is successful but that doesn't mean there isn't room for improvement on my part, too.
First, I can over control a situation if I'm not careful. I used to be much more controlling with my own kids before the magic meds but even now, my expectations are high and that in itself requires control to keep them going. However, there have to be breaks, I have to let some things go, and I need to make sure expectations aren't too high. When I spot issues I've drawn an uncrossable line on I need to back back off. Seeing where I become intractable is the hard part. Once I do, though, I try to adapt.
I need to be more complimentary of achievement. I've never lived off the fumes of someone else's praise. I got satisfaction from succeeding at what I set out to do. That's not so for many people, kids especially. They need praise to keep going, to feel their on the right track, to succeed. It's true in business and in volunteer work, too. One of the hardest jobs I had working on committees was encouraging fellow members. If we were all volunteers trying to achieve a goal, what's the point of patting people on the back? They weren't praising me, either. But it meant a lot to them and when I was chairman, I had to make an effort to do that. It applies even more to kids, especially when they don't really know what the goal is they're reaching for. So... more praise, reward, and mark milestones.
Third, I'm becoming less patient with the boys. Not a lot, but enough that I need to watch it. Maybe I can't be blamed having this hectic world on my shoulders and trying to keep everything moving, but it doesn't help. I'm not quick to anger but I snap a bit more than I should, even when I'm not angry. Sometimes that gets results that patience and compromise don't. Kind of like a modern version of corporal punishment: you snap your voice instead of a belt and they jump, hoping it doesn't happens again. Of course, it needs to be sparing to have that effect or they become immune.
In some ways, I'm losing my ability to see things from their perspective the way I used to. I'm becoming entrenched in this role and it creates a harder line between what they see and I see in a situation. Tio insists he's in love with a girl (a different one every month, but still...) and I don't think he has a clue what love is. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe that doesn't matter. Can't say.
I'm sure I could create a list that runs all the way down to my not being good with fashion but these are the biggies that I'm facing. They weren't important with old Grampy because I was always patient, fun, and didn't expect much except good behavior during a visit. I need to haul that guy out of the closet more often, shake the dust off and take him out for a spin. It'll help to have him around when things get a bit too heavy and we all need a break.
First, I can over control a situation if I'm not careful. I used to be much more controlling with my own kids before the magic meds but even now, my expectations are high and that in itself requires control to keep them going. However, there have to be breaks, I have to let some things go, and I need to make sure expectations aren't too high. When I spot issues I've drawn an uncrossable line on I need to back back off. Seeing where I become intractable is the hard part. Once I do, though, I try to adapt.
I need to be more complimentary of achievement. I've never lived off the fumes of someone else's praise. I got satisfaction from succeeding at what I set out to do. That's not so for many people, kids especially. They need praise to keep going, to feel their on the right track, to succeed. It's true in business and in volunteer work, too. One of the hardest jobs I had working on committees was encouraging fellow members. If we were all volunteers trying to achieve a goal, what's the point of patting people on the back? They weren't praising me, either. But it meant a lot to them and when I was chairman, I had to make an effort to do that. It applies even more to kids, especially when they don't really know what the goal is they're reaching for. So... more praise, reward, and mark milestones.
Third, I'm becoming less patient with the boys. Not a lot, but enough that I need to watch it. Maybe I can't be blamed having this hectic world on my shoulders and trying to keep everything moving, but it doesn't help. I'm not quick to anger but I snap a bit more than I should, even when I'm not angry. Sometimes that gets results that patience and compromise don't. Kind of like a modern version of corporal punishment: you snap your voice instead of a belt and they jump, hoping it doesn't happens again. Of course, it needs to be sparing to have that effect or they become immune.
In some ways, I'm losing my ability to see things from their perspective the way I used to. I'm becoming entrenched in this role and it creates a harder line between what they see and I see in a situation. Tio insists he's in love with a girl (a different one every month, but still...) and I don't think he has a clue what love is. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe that doesn't matter. Can't say.
I'm sure I could create a list that runs all the way down to my not being good with fashion but these are the biggies that I'm facing. They weren't important with old Grampy because I was always patient, fun, and didn't expect much except good behavior during a visit. I need to haul that guy out of the closet more often, shake the dust off and take him out for a spin. It'll help to have him around when things get a bit too heavy and we all need a break.
3.22.2011
Bigotry is no joke
At the supper table last night, Tio told us something he and his friends thougth was funny. They wondered "What if you were allergic to gay people?" and thought that was hilarious. Tish and I came down hard and fast on that one, telling him that it was a bigoted remark. He didn't see that. He just thought it was funny.
I asked, "What if you said you were 'allergic to black people'. Would that be racist?"
"I guess so."
"Or women?"
"I suppose."
As part of our advanced academic work, I've been assigning some writing every night. Last night, I asked him to write about why this is discrimination. After our discussion, he wrote that suggesting 'being allergic' to group of people was equating them with animals or disease and that that meant they were inferior. He concluded that the only reason he thought it might be true was because it was funny.
We all have a long way to go with discrimination in this country. I remember when I was young and thought that anything humorous was fair game. But just "because it was funny" covers a multitude of sins. Humor really isn't the great equalizer. Like sarcasm and teasing and cliquish slurs, bigotry under the umbrella of "it was just a joke, man," is an empty excuse. Sure, we can be too PC but maybe we need to make sure our kids understand the difference.
I asked, "What if you said you were 'allergic to black people'. Would that be racist?"
"I guess so."
"Or women?"
"I suppose."
As part of our advanced academic work, I've been assigning some writing every night. Last night, I asked him to write about why this is discrimination. After our discussion, he wrote that suggesting 'being allergic' to group of people was equating them with animals or disease and that that meant they were inferior. He concluded that the only reason he thought it might be true was because it was funny.
We all have a long way to go with discrimination in this country. I remember when I was young and thought that anything humorous was fair game. But just "because it was funny" covers a multitude of sins. Humor really isn't the great equalizer. Like sarcasm and teasing and cliquish slurs, bigotry under the umbrella of "it was just a joke, man," is an empty excuse. Sure, we can be too PC but maybe we need to make sure our kids understand the difference.
3.21.2011
George Booth had it right
It's probably been 20 years since I've taken a real deep-dish soaking bath. We haven't had a usable tub in all that time and I never missed it. American life moves at the pace of showers: get in, get clean, get out. No one affords such a long time to get scrubbed. Too decadent, too elaborate, too busy.
Our new bathroom has a big deep tub and I've rediscovered reveling in long, slow, hot soaks. I lay back with a cuppa tea and a book and let the world worry its own head for an hour. I can't use my computer or the phone, the kids will have to wait, and the workshop is 2 floors away. It's pure luxury.
I suppose this is an indication that I'm allowing myself to slow down to a pace that human beings were born to. Not the mad dash towards success-disappointment-retirement and death that we've wound our life clocks up for. Tish and I always called eating in bed in front of the TV "supper in the tub" after this cartoon. We may not have two extra sous to rub together in this world but we do have a moment or two between breaths to take a walk, enjoy the dogs and kids, and watch the wild turkeys waddle across our lawn.
Bullying 2.0
Tio came home from school one day with a fat lip. Said he banged it on a rock. Later he told me that a guy borrowed 2 bucks from him and while they were walking to the store with their friends he asked for it back. The kid socked him in the mouth. I asked if he wanted me to do anything about it. “Nah,” he said. “I laid him on the ground with one punch in the head. We’re best friends now.”
Okay. That's one way to handle a bully. I didn’t ask if he got his money back.
Okay. That's one way to handle a bully. I didn’t ask if he got his money back.
3.19.2011
I have a headache
I took the two younger boys to their first dance at the elementary school tonight. Dance might be a generous term for this gaggle of a hundred or so K through 4th graders bounding around the gymnasium for 2 hours. More like a giant gym class in dim light with loud music with a the odd exercise thrown in here and there.
Some of the girls were dressed in colorful leotards and dresses, some had nice shoes and bows, and one boy even had a tie on but once they were out there running around, the dress up had little to do with the occasion. Parents sat around the edges watching the mosh while others joined during the 'limbo' and 'macarana' and the couple of other organized jumping routines. Doc spent the entire time running full bore red in the face flat out from one end of the gym to the other with his friends. While Kit, being so much older and more mature, did exactly the same thing. Kit added a bit of screaming into his mix and there was an inevitable scuffle with a couple of bullies. But all in all it went well.
I sat on the fringe alongside some other adults doing what most adults do in this situation: praying for an early and untimely death. I suppose if you'd dressed your little blossom up in a sequined dress or some ribbons and brought a video camera you might be hoping for a photo op to capture a precious moment or two. But the rest of us were hoping to die.
The boys came home well sated from a fun time and I was happy to have done it. Buddy asked if I had a good time. "No," I said. He gave me a queer look and smiled. "Well put."
Tio's dances are much the same except there's fresh hormones in the mix which makes all the difference in the world.
Some of the girls were dressed in colorful leotards and dresses, some had nice shoes and bows, and one boy even had a tie on but once they were out there running around, the dress up had little to do with the occasion. Parents sat around the edges watching the mosh while others joined during the 'limbo' and 'macarana' and the couple of other organized jumping routines. Doc spent the entire time running full bore red in the face flat out from one end of the gym to the other with his friends. While Kit, being so much older and more mature, did exactly the same thing. Kit added a bit of screaming into his mix and there was an inevitable scuffle with a couple of bullies. But all in all it went well.
I sat on the fringe alongside some other adults doing what most adults do in this situation: praying for an early and untimely death. I suppose if you'd dressed your little blossom up in a sequined dress or some ribbons and brought a video camera you might be hoping for a photo op to capture a precious moment or two. But the rest of us were hoping to die.
The boys came home well sated from a fun time and I was happy to have done it. Buddy asked if I had a good time. "No," I said. He gave me a queer look and smiled. "Well put."
Tio's dances are much the same except there's fresh hormones in the mix which makes all the difference in the world.
3.18.2011
A stack o' Mac 'n' Cheese...
When Bud and Sug were 10 and 12, we'd finally had it up to the neck with constant complaints about what either of us had spent an hour or more making for supper. One day they came home from school and found us hard at work making hamburger patties and freezing them. "What's for supper?" they asked. "Burgers," we said. "Yea!" they cheered.
The next night they asked, "What's for supper?" "Burger," we replied. "Yea!"
After school the next day on enquiring what supper was they were surprised but not displeased to hear "Burgers."
By the fifth day they were sensing a trend.
On day seven they stopped looking forward to burgers but were unwilling to ask for something else. They realized something was up to but decided not to complain.
By the end of week two they couldn't face another burger. As Sugar put it years later, she and Buddy were sitting in front of the TV, facing yet another of what used to be their favorite dinner, unable to take a bite. "You going to say anything?" "Not me," he said but didn't eat. "What are we going to do?" We both took a couple more bites and surrendered.
They came upstairs and agreed to stop complaining about dinner. We agreed that if they didn't like something we'd try not to serve it again but they had to try it and stop griping. The truce lasted into their adulthood.
Cut to all these many years later. I started cooking for the grandsons a year ago and told them if they complained, we'd eat Mac and Cheese every night until it came out their ears. They'd heard the legend of the burgers and the same deal applied. You eat it once and we move on but no complaints. It's been up and down but tonight Tio threw down the gauntlet over some black eyed peas. I said eat this serving (there may have been six beans in his rice serving) and I won't make them again. "if you don't, I'm making Kraft dinner for the next two weeks straight. That's the deal." The two younger boys went "Yea!" and Tio said fine. He left the table with the beans intact.
I'll let you know how it goes. It'll certainly be easier on me making one dish of glop for the dogs and a second dish of glop for the boys. Anyone want to wager how many days he lasts?
The next night they asked, "What's for supper?" "Burger," we replied. "Yea!"
After school the next day on enquiring what supper was they were surprised but not displeased to hear "Burgers."
By the fifth day they were sensing a trend.
On day seven they stopped looking forward to burgers but were unwilling to ask for something else. They realized something was up to but decided not to complain.
By the end of week two they couldn't face another burger. As Sugar put it years later, she and Buddy were sitting in front of the TV, facing yet another of what used to be their favorite dinner, unable to take a bite. "You going to say anything?" "Not me," he said but didn't eat. "What are we going to do?" We both took a couple more bites and surrendered.
They came upstairs and agreed to stop complaining about dinner. We agreed that if they didn't like something we'd try not to serve it again but they had to try it and stop griping. The truce lasted into their adulthood.
Cut to all these many years later. I started cooking for the grandsons a year ago and told them if they complained, we'd eat Mac and Cheese every night until it came out their ears. They'd heard the legend of the burgers and the same deal applied. You eat it once and we move on but no complaints. It's been up and down but tonight Tio threw down the gauntlet over some black eyed peas. I said eat this serving (there may have been six beans in his rice serving) and I won't make them again. "if you don't, I'm making Kraft dinner for the next two weeks straight. That's the deal." The two younger boys went "Yea!" and Tio said fine. He left the table with the beans intact.
I'll let you know how it goes. It'll certainly be easier on me making one dish of glop for the dogs and a second dish of glop for the boys. Anyone want to wager how many days he lasts?
A writer's life
I printed out the first half of my latest novel today. It's a sequel to THE AQUANAUTS and I've been working on it since its predecessor was published six years ago. Like so many other writers, I've had to make a living along the way. Then there was stopping along the way to write a childhood memoir and now raising the family and spending a deal of my writing energy on a blog. Looking at these 200 pages I can almost see the end and it feels pretty good. Last fall I got a hard and very blunt critique from an honest friend on the first section and it set me on a rewrite that has made a much better book. I'd gotten lost in the weeds and the jolt she gave me sparked a tighter, better paced narrative. (thanks Jackie).
This evening I read the opening to Tio. He liked it and asked me to keep reading for over an hour. Maybe he's an easy audience, but he can be discerning and it was a pleasure to read. I still see lumps and places to rewrite but i like the way it reads, too.
Not an easy thing, writing a novel. Especially such a complex story. It takes time and patience and the end result could be a complete busto. But today's milestone inspires me to move on and get it done and off to my agent and publisher.
Here we go. It was a dark and stormy night...
This evening I read the opening to Tio. He liked it and asked me to keep reading for over an hour. Maybe he's an easy audience, but he can be discerning and it was a pleasure to read. I still see lumps and places to rewrite but i like the way it reads, too.
Not an easy thing, writing a novel. Especially such a complex story. It takes time and patience and the end result could be a complete busto. But today's milestone inspires me to move on and get it done and off to my agent and publisher.
Here we go. It was a dark and stormy night...
3.17.2011
The lasting empowerment of bullies
I attended a seminar on bullying at the high school last night. I was surprised to learn that bullying has become epidemic in this country. One in three kids are victimized, same ratio become bullies. The results can devastate and last for years, create permanent antisocial behaviors in both bully and bullied.
Kit has been subjected to it this past year and because his interests, tastes and attitudes are different from other boys he's going to be subjected to more as his school career goes on. I was bullied all through school because of my cleft lip. My instinct was to become introverted and avoid contact, friends and social life altogether. Kit wants no such life. He's out there, take it or leave it, and won't back down. But he can't understand why they do it or how to stop it. Thus the seminar.
What I learned was both eye opening and obvious all at once. First, there are strong state laws now across the country that take bullying seriously and school officials and teachers can be held responsible if they take no action of known incidences. On the other hand, the solutions aren't skin deep. Parents, peer groups, schools, sports teams, etc. all have to work together to create safe environments against bullying. Like that's news. It's like families that have to look out for each other or else the power balance tips. Can you say dysfunctional?
Bullying is about an imbalance of power, but isn't that what our competitive society is all about: controlling power, winners and losers? We reward those with power, no matter how they get it. Bullies wield their power without regard for social - or legal - regard. Just like rape, domestic violence, right on up to abuse of political office and warfare. It starts with low self esteem creating a void that needs to be filled. Bullies deal with feeling bad about themselves by puffing up their egos to appear better than they feel, by putting others down, and abusing whatever power they have, even if it's only a fist or a passive aggressive act. The seminar presenter suggested that some bullies have strong self esteem which makes them act superior. I challenged that notion and she modified it to "distorted" self esteem - whatever that may be.
So what do we do about poor Kit who's staring 8 years of possible abuse in the face? I considered teaching him to defend himself but that's a bad idea because it leads to retribution and can turn victims into bullies. I've told him these kids really feel bad about themselves and he's better than that but what what does that mean to a 9 year old who gets pushed around or called names? We can create a strong and loving environment at home, teach all the boys not to be abusive with each other or anybody else, make sure there is a trusting relationship so that we can talk about it and can take action through the school. But in the end victims are isolated unless peers at school and work make it unacceptable. That's a sea change in our society, necessary though it is, and isn't going to happen while he's in school.
My sister, who also has a cleft palate, and I came home broken and beaten down all through school because of something that wasn't our fault. She handled it like Kit not giving an inch and being fully engaged in school and social life. It came at a cost we both still pay. I want Kit to be who he is without bitterness, fear or anger. But this fight is just beginning and I may be helpless to protect him even though I know the road ahead.
Kit has been subjected to it this past year and because his interests, tastes and attitudes are different from other boys he's going to be subjected to more as his school career goes on. I was bullied all through school because of my cleft lip. My instinct was to become introverted and avoid contact, friends and social life altogether. Kit wants no such life. He's out there, take it or leave it, and won't back down. But he can't understand why they do it or how to stop it. Thus the seminar.
What I learned was both eye opening and obvious all at once. First, there are strong state laws now across the country that take bullying seriously and school officials and teachers can be held responsible if they take no action of known incidences. On the other hand, the solutions aren't skin deep. Parents, peer groups, schools, sports teams, etc. all have to work together to create safe environments against bullying. Like that's news. It's like families that have to look out for each other or else the power balance tips. Can you say dysfunctional?
Bullying is about an imbalance of power, but isn't that what our competitive society is all about: controlling power, winners and losers? We reward those with power, no matter how they get it. Bullies wield their power without regard for social - or legal - regard. Just like rape, domestic violence, right on up to abuse of political office and warfare. It starts with low self esteem creating a void that needs to be filled. Bullies deal with feeling bad about themselves by puffing up their egos to appear better than they feel, by putting others down, and abusing whatever power they have, even if it's only a fist or a passive aggressive act. The seminar presenter suggested that some bullies have strong self esteem which makes them act superior. I challenged that notion and she modified it to "distorted" self esteem - whatever that may be.
So what do we do about poor Kit who's staring 8 years of possible abuse in the face? I considered teaching him to defend himself but that's a bad idea because it leads to retribution and can turn victims into bullies. I've told him these kids really feel bad about themselves and he's better than that but what what does that mean to a 9 year old who gets pushed around or called names? We can create a strong and loving environment at home, teach all the boys not to be abusive with each other or anybody else, make sure there is a trusting relationship so that we can talk about it and can take action through the school. But in the end victims are isolated unless peers at school and work make it unacceptable. That's a sea change in our society, necessary though it is, and isn't going to happen while he's in school.
My sister, who also has a cleft palate, and I came home broken and beaten down all through school because of something that wasn't our fault. She handled it like Kit not giving an inch and being fully engaged in school and social life. It came at a cost we both still pay. I want Kit to be who he is without bitterness, fear or anger. But this fight is just beginning and I may be helpless to protect him even though I know the road ahead.
3.15.2011
3.14.2011
When does trust mean "only until I change my mind"?
Since last May Tio has a phone of his own. He was given it as long as he used it with certain restrictions such as only a couple of hours a day, no taking it to school, no prank calls and staying within the limits of our calling scheme. Over time he broke every one of these and then some and had to earn his way back to phone privileges. Most recently, due to some inappropriate behavior, I was force to restrict his contacts to only certain friends and family. I put a lock code on so he couldn't add names to his list.
Tish kept telling me I'm wasting my time - that he's too irresponsible to be trusted at his age. I kept working at it. I tried reasoning, logic, arguing, compromise, starting over and earning points. They all had limited success reaching only as far as he wanted to. Once he'd decided it didn't work for him, he'd break the rules. Today I checked the contacts and he'd cracked my code (not too hard) and added back all the contacts I took out. So much for trust and compromise. Tish was right.
(When asked what the lesson was in all of this, his first answer was "you make lousy codes?" - always the humorist, is Grampy's little boy)
I'm not angry or frustrated or even sympathetic to him feeling isolated. I don't care anymore if he can't contact his friends outside of school - which was the whole reason I advocated for him to have it in the first place. This time he lost more than the phone. He lost my trust. I'm not sure he understands just how big that is.
Tish kept telling me I'm wasting my time - that he's too irresponsible to be trusted at his age. I kept working at it. I tried reasoning, logic, arguing, compromise, starting over and earning points. They all had limited success reaching only as far as he wanted to. Once he'd decided it didn't work for him, he'd break the rules. Today I checked the contacts and he'd cracked my code (not too hard) and added back all the contacts I took out. So much for trust and compromise. Tish was right.
(When asked what the lesson was in all of this, his first answer was "you make lousy codes?" - always the humorist, is Grampy's little boy)
I'm not angry or frustrated or even sympathetic to him feeling isolated. I don't care anymore if he can't contact his friends outside of school - which was the whole reason I advocated for him to have it in the first place. This time he lost more than the phone. He lost my trust. I'm not sure he understands just how big that is.
A little night music
Finally Tish and I got a real night off together. The boys were away with their other grandfolks for an overnight (the first in months) so we had our home to ourselves for a whole night. ParTAY!
Not really...but still. I cleaned the place, bought some Chinese take out, a bottle of Beaujolais, and a couple of movies. I lit some candles and fired up the phony fireplace, and made sure the dogs were fed, securely content and out of our way. She got home from work and it was a lovely night. The movies weren't so good, the food was great and the company was superb.
The boys were due home late this afternoon which gave us all day to hang out, get a coffee and muffin, and buy a rocking chair at a warehouse-o-junk. After decades together it still doesn't get any better than that for us. Our joys are simple as long as they include each other.
I guess that's true love.
Not really...but still. I cleaned the place, bought some Chinese take out, a bottle of Beaujolais, and a couple of movies. I lit some candles and fired up the phony fireplace, and made sure the dogs were fed, securely content and out of our way. She got home from work and it was a lovely night. The movies weren't so good, the food was great and the company was superb.
The boys were due home late this afternoon which gave us all day to hang out, get a coffee and muffin, and buy a rocking chair at a warehouse-o-junk. After decades together it still doesn't get any better than that for us. Our joys are simple as long as they include each other.
I guess that's true love.
3.12.2011
On the run again...
A couple of days ago Debbie called Buddy to say she couldn't see the boys this weekend. That, in fact, she wouldn't be able to see them for the next 30 days. She wouldn't say why or where she was going. "What do I tell the kids?" he asked. She didn't know. That was that. Buddy contacted her parents, who knew nothing about it.
Unfortunately, this is not new behavior for her. In the past when she couldn't deal, she'd uproot them and move at moment's notice. Middle of the night, after school, first thing in the morning, she's decide she'd had enough of whatever was going on and pack them up like luggage and disappear, usually to her parents, where Buddy would have to involve the police or the courts just to see his kids. This happened so often that the older boys had no security knowing where they would be one day to the next. The rug could be pulled out any moment. It was scary and created a good portion of their disassociation problems. The only difference this time is she can't drag them along with her.
We debated what to tell the boys. Without knowing the particulars it left a bad taste that led to unsavory conclusions. By last night, she hadn't called them and Buddy hadn't said anything, either. Gee, I wonder whose lap that left the odious task in? I related the facts as I knew them without any embellishment or drawing conclusions. Kit wiped silent tears and Tio wasn't too surprised but it still gave him a gut ache. He didn't care about seeing her so much but I'm sure it brought back a stack of ugly memories. Doc was too young to remember all the past moves so he was only disappointed. When Bud got home, he was still ready to give them half truths and shrugs.
These boys have grown up too fast in some ways and are still so very young in others. They've been lied to and manipulated all their lives. The least we can do is level with them. Since no one else has done such a crackerjack job with the truth, maybe it's time they be given a shot at it to sort out for themselves.
Being honest with kids about hard truth is tough. But the alternative is unacceptable.
Unfortunately, this is not new behavior for her. In the past when she couldn't deal, she'd uproot them and move at moment's notice. Middle of the night, after school, first thing in the morning, she's decide she'd had enough of whatever was going on and pack them up like luggage and disappear, usually to her parents, where Buddy would have to involve the police or the courts just to see his kids. This happened so often that the older boys had no security knowing where they would be one day to the next. The rug could be pulled out any moment. It was scary and created a good portion of their disassociation problems. The only difference this time is she can't drag them along with her.
We debated what to tell the boys. Without knowing the particulars it left a bad taste that led to unsavory conclusions. By last night, she hadn't called them and Buddy hadn't said anything, either. Gee, I wonder whose lap that left the odious task in? I related the facts as I knew them without any embellishment or drawing conclusions. Kit wiped silent tears and Tio wasn't too surprised but it still gave him a gut ache. He didn't care about seeing her so much but I'm sure it brought back a stack of ugly memories. Doc was too young to remember all the past moves so he was only disappointed. When Bud got home, he was still ready to give them half truths and shrugs.
These boys have grown up too fast in some ways and are still so very young in others. They've been lied to and manipulated all their lives. The least we can do is level with them. Since no one else has done such a crackerjack job with the truth, maybe it's time they be given a shot at it to sort out for themselves.
Being honest with kids about hard truth is tough. But the alternative is unacceptable.
So far, so good
It's late. A fairly unremarkable day at the end of an unremarkable week. Kit earned back an outdoor recess period at school for being more in control of his behavior all week, Tio went to a dance and had a good time making noise and jumping around with his friends, and Doc read his 3rd complete book and was ecstatic about it throughout the whole experience. No one fought, felt they were treated unfairly, or demeaned the others. Nothing profound. At the same time, it's progress and that in itself can be profound.
In the past couple of months I've seen Kit working the hardest at changing. Some of it is conscious effort and some comes of more security, confidence and enjoying the benefits of positive rather than negative attention. He's not screaming at his Dad like he has done, accepts things that don't go his way more easily, and cooperates without making a "federal case" out of it. We assumed Tio would adapt more easily to the new universe and realize the benefit of cooperation early on. Why? Because he's older and a bit more mature, and secondly because he's more clear thinking. What we didn't count seriously enough is his stubbornness, quick temper, and that he's had longer to become entrenched. It has taken him forever, and by that I mean repeating the same thing over and over without learning, to understand the old methods aren't getting him what he wants. Kit being more visceral in his approach just did what worked until it has stopped working and I think is in the process of trying something new to see if that gets his desired result.
Now spring is on the way. Warm weather brings a whole new world of feelings, needs and tempers to the family dynamic. We're much more ready to face this spring than we were last year. Every one of us has worked hard to get here. Grinding through it day by day feels unremarkable but in the face of how far we've come it's a miracle.
In the past couple of months I've seen Kit working the hardest at changing. Some of it is conscious effort and some comes of more security, confidence and enjoying the benefits of positive rather than negative attention. He's not screaming at his Dad like he has done, accepts things that don't go his way more easily, and cooperates without making a "federal case" out of it. We assumed Tio would adapt more easily to the new universe and realize the benefit of cooperation early on. Why? Because he's older and a bit more mature, and secondly because he's more clear thinking. What we didn't count seriously enough is his stubbornness, quick temper, and that he's had longer to become entrenched. It has taken him forever, and by that I mean repeating the same thing over and over without learning, to understand the old methods aren't getting him what he wants. Kit being more visceral in his approach just did what worked until it has stopped working and I think is in the process of trying something new to see if that gets his desired result.
Now spring is on the way. Warm weather brings a whole new world of feelings, needs and tempers to the family dynamic. We're much more ready to face this spring than we were last year. Every one of us has worked hard to get here. Grinding through it day by day feels unremarkable but in the face of how far we've come it's a miracle.
3.10.2011
"you can't fix stupid" - Ron White
I'm making another attempt to get Tio engaged in academics. He's smart and bright but lazy. I met with his teachers to get some advance level work for him and picked up a copy of Huckleberry Finn to start reading. So far...it's a mixed bag. As an A student he doesn't see why he should be compelled to work harder. Unfortunately, his school has such low standards of learning that they're on the brink of losing accreditation. This means that an A level assignment in grade 6 is mediocre at best and multiple grade levels down at worst. During our bout of 'strenuous' homework today he was red in the face shaking with frustration and silent anger. I sent him downstairs to cool off.
After 10 minutes I went down and said, "Do you think the standards at your school are low?"
He agreed.
"Do you think if you continue to get good grades that you'll get a good education?"
He allowed as that might be hard to do.
"Do you think you can do better without too much effort?"
Probably.
"So what's got you so frustrated? That you don't think you should have to, that you don't want to spend the time, or that you don't want to use your brains?"
Just lazy, he said.
"Then here's the thing. You're a real smart boy in a crappy school. It's not going to get any better because the middle and high school have problems, too. We can't afford private school and we're not moving. That means it's up to us, you and me, to make sure you come out ahead. Let's invest an hour a day to hand in the best assignments you can muster, to learn a bit extra about subjects you're good at, and build a foundation for learning and thinking that will carry you through life. There's no way you'll ever be stupid. But you can stay ignorant forever."
He understood, he agreed, he accepted it. It still remains to be seen if he'll do it. I sure hope so because I'm not going to back off until he does.
After 10 minutes I went down and said, "Do you think the standards at your school are low?"
He agreed.
"Do you think if you continue to get good grades that you'll get a good education?"
He allowed as that might be hard to do.
"Do you think you can do better without too much effort?"
Probably.
"So what's got you so frustrated? That you don't think you should have to, that you don't want to spend the time, or that you don't want to use your brains?"
Just lazy, he said.
"Then here's the thing. You're a real smart boy in a crappy school. It's not going to get any better because the middle and high school have problems, too. We can't afford private school and we're not moving. That means it's up to us, you and me, to make sure you come out ahead. Let's invest an hour a day to hand in the best assignments you can muster, to learn a bit extra about subjects you're good at, and build a foundation for learning and thinking that will carry you through life. There's no way you'll ever be stupid. But you can stay ignorant forever."
He understood, he agreed, he accepted it. It still remains to be seen if he'll do it. I sure hope so because I'm not going to back off until he does.
3.09.2011
Familiarity breeds more than just contempt
I have to agree totally with Tish's post yesterday. The wall of grandfather / child respect was never clearly established between me and the boys. Tisha always thought that was inappropriate and I agreed to a point. However, there was method to my madness. I did not simply decide to be the nice Grampy who lets them get away with anything. There were rules, they were always safe, and they treated me and each other well when we were together no matter how they behaved elsewhere.
It is true that familiarity breeds the prophetic "contempt" between those that are in authority and those under them. That includes teachers, parents, management, drill sergeants, marriage counsellors and a host of others. As a grandfather I did not see myself nor want to be in one of those roles. Familiarity also breeds friendship, intimacy, trust, and love. Because of that they could confide in me, trust that I would always look out for them with a warm heart and laughter no matter what had happened in their world and day. I established a line of respect that was more between friends that I made sure they didn't cross with each other, either.
If I hadn't been that way we would have had chaos in this house over the years. We would have been laying down the law, throwing anger and demands at them and had a relationship built on screaming angry negative attention for everything just as they did with their parents and other grandparents. Instead, we have had harmony and good feeling in this house whenever they visited, they cooperated freely with all I asked them to do, never wanted to upset or disabuse my good nature, always felt that I was giving each of them a fair deal, and loved to come and stay. We had our moments but calm and good moods was the norm.
By the same token, every time they've come to live here (and there are many) including this last one, they turned straight to me for guidance and answers. No matter what lousy living situation or domestic crisis they'd just come out of I could have them settled in and feeling safe on day one. Why? Because they trusted my friendship and our history of knowing they would do well by me no matter what. We could never have had such a good year this past year of transition if it hadn't been for the relationship I'd built with them. It would have been chaos and hell. It was tough enough as it was but without Grampy's magic touch we would't have anywhere near as much positive development and hard work from them to support and help make this new life succeed. We continue to do well because of it.
Tish and Buddy both know that. Tish also knows that I deserve more respect from them for all I do and there has been a downhill slide in the respect department. That is where I feel the new dynamic has come into play. Once they started to see me in the role of parent they began to develop defenses with me that they never needed before. They don't like some of the decisions I make, rub up against the not so great aspects of my personality on a daily basis and respond accordingly (if inappropriately). Being children they have to do what I say sometimes "just because" so after years of 'lovin' it', it gets on their nerves just as easily as they can mine.
It doesn't mean we've lost the trust and love from earlier times. But in our new roles, we need a little more distance, a little more hard work, and a lot more respect.
It is true that familiarity breeds the prophetic "contempt" between those that are in authority and those under them. That includes teachers, parents, management, drill sergeants, marriage counsellors and a host of others. As a grandfather I did not see myself nor want to be in one of those roles. Familiarity also breeds friendship, intimacy, trust, and love. Because of that they could confide in me, trust that I would always look out for them with a warm heart and laughter no matter what had happened in their world and day. I established a line of respect that was more between friends that I made sure they didn't cross with each other, either.
If I hadn't been that way we would have had chaos in this house over the years. We would have been laying down the law, throwing anger and demands at them and had a relationship built on screaming angry negative attention for everything just as they did with their parents and other grandparents. Instead, we have had harmony and good feeling in this house whenever they visited, they cooperated freely with all I asked them to do, never wanted to upset or disabuse my good nature, always felt that I was giving each of them a fair deal, and loved to come and stay. We had our moments but calm and good moods was the norm.
By the same token, every time they've come to live here (and there are many) including this last one, they turned straight to me for guidance and answers. No matter what lousy living situation or domestic crisis they'd just come out of I could have them settled in and feeling safe on day one. Why? Because they trusted my friendship and our history of knowing they would do well by me no matter what. We could never have had such a good year this past year of transition if it hadn't been for the relationship I'd built with them. It would have been chaos and hell. It was tough enough as it was but without Grampy's magic touch we would't have anywhere near as much positive development and hard work from them to support and help make this new life succeed. We continue to do well because of it.
Tish and Buddy both know that. Tish also knows that I deserve more respect from them for all I do and there has been a downhill slide in the respect department. That is where I feel the new dynamic has come into play. Once they started to see me in the role of parent they began to develop defenses with me that they never needed before. They don't like some of the decisions I make, rub up against the not so great aspects of my personality on a daily basis and respond accordingly (if inappropriately). Being children they have to do what I say sometimes "just because" so after years of 'lovin' it', it gets on their nerves just as easily as they can mine.
It doesn't mean we've lost the trust and love from earlier times. But in our new roles, we need a little more distance, a little more hard work, and a lot more respect.
3.08.2011
Familiarity breeds contempt - A Guest Blog from Tish
Although both Jake and I commented on the inane content of the recent How I Met Your Mother episode, there was a valuable lesson in it.
One of the characters is a college professor who prides himself on being buddies with his students. We see him joking with his students in class as well as out of class. But when all of his students participate in an organized protest against something that he is doing, and they refuse to go to class, he doesn't know what to do. He can't regain control over them just by being their good buddy. In the end, he resorts to an ultimatum - those students who didn't show up for the next class would get an "F" for a grade. The next scene in the classroom shows all of his students filing into the room.
Jake has always had this problem with our grandsons. He relates to them as if he is a kid himself and then wonders why they show him little or no respect. I've cautioned him about this many times in the past and am not surprised at the lack of respect he is experiencing now. It seems he feels that his status changed when he went from the grandfather role to the parent/guardian role. But even as just grandfather, he still is in a role that should be respected and taken seriously.
Jake was letting Tio call him several nicknames, none of which showed the respect that the title of grandfather deserves. The other day when Tio yelled "Hey Tish!" I realized just how much this was getting out of hand. I don't mind "Grammo" but anything else that isn't a form of grandmother is unacceptable to me.
When Buddy and Sugar were small, the parents of their friends insisted that they be called by their first names. That idea was unthinkable to me. When I was a kid, ANY adult was called Mr., Mrs., or Miss. My grandparents were called grammy and grampy and their siblings were called aunt and uncle, with the exception of one of my aunts who wanted to be Auntie. There was an expectation of what we could or couldn't say as well as how to say it. Some topics were up for discussion in general population and some were saved for private discussions. Some subjects were taboo, whether we wanted them to be or not. I tried to teach my kids similar standards, but with the exception that they could discuss anything with me. But the idea that anything goes, anytime, any place just did not exist.
Tio's action of trying to moon Jake is indicative of the loss of boundaries and respect between the two of them. But it goes further than that - Tio is the same to his father and also to some of the limits set for him for living in this family. I don't care how much times have changes since I was a kid. Tio should have respect and consideration for people or rules, and someone has to reinforce it.
There is responsibility on both Jake's and Tio's parts to rebuild the respect that's been lost, but it has to start with Jake, just as it had to start with the professor on the tv show. The consequences need to be clearly defined, even if it means an "F" for Tio.
One of the characters is a college professor who prides himself on being buddies with his students. We see him joking with his students in class as well as out of class. But when all of his students participate in an organized protest against something that he is doing, and they refuse to go to class, he doesn't know what to do. He can't regain control over them just by being their good buddy. In the end, he resorts to an ultimatum - those students who didn't show up for the next class would get an "F" for a grade. The next scene in the classroom shows all of his students filing into the room.
Jake has always had this problem with our grandsons. He relates to them as if he is a kid himself and then wonders why they show him little or no respect. I've cautioned him about this many times in the past and am not surprised at the lack of respect he is experiencing now. It seems he feels that his status changed when he went from the grandfather role to the parent/guardian role. But even as just grandfather, he still is in a role that should be respected and taken seriously.
Jake was letting Tio call him several nicknames, none of which showed the respect that the title of grandfather deserves. The other day when Tio yelled "Hey Tish!" I realized just how much this was getting out of hand. I don't mind "Grammo" but anything else that isn't a form of grandmother is unacceptable to me.
When Buddy and Sugar were small, the parents of their friends insisted that they be called by their first names. That idea was unthinkable to me. When I was a kid, ANY adult was called Mr., Mrs., or Miss. My grandparents were called grammy and grampy and their siblings were called aunt and uncle, with the exception of one of my aunts who wanted to be Auntie. There was an expectation of what we could or couldn't say as well as how to say it. Some topics were up for discussion in general population and some were saved for private discussions. Some subjects were taboo, whether we wanted them to be or not. I tried to teach my kids similar standards, but with the exception that they could discuss anything with me. But the idea that anything goes, anytime, any place just did not exist.
Tio's action of trying to moon Jake is indicative of the loss of boundaries and respect between the two of them. But it goes further than that - Tio is the same to his father and also to some of the limits set for him for living in this family. I don't care how much times have changes since I was a kid. Tio should have respect and consideration for people or rules, and someone has to reinforce it.
There is responsibility on both Jake's and Tio's parts to rebuild the respect that's been lost, but it has to start with Jake, just as it had to start with the professor on the tv show. The consequences need to be clearly defined, even if it means an "F" for Tio.
How close is too close
I wrote a post early on about how the boys crowd me like puppies. Well, that still happens. I attempted to take a nap yesterday while Tio and Doc were home. Before five minutes passed, they were crowding me so close I could smell lunch off their breath while they pinched my beard and stared in my ear. Puppies. In fact, both Bunnie and Gulliver were vying for the same space so I ended up with a dog on my feet, one on my chest and two boys crammed in my ear. This morning, I hadn't been up more than five minutes before all three boys flocked around. Tish and I both shooed them off but they kept wriggling their way back under foot and arm to spill my coffee, read over my shoulder and share my space.
All well and good if that was only as far as it goes but somewhere along the line they've lost the perspective that I am, in fact, an adult and should be treated with a certain respect. We can kid and joke and be intimate to a point but I'm not one of their 10 year old friends that they can swap gross insults and truly tasteless remarks with. The point could be made no clearer than Tio dropping his drawers to moon me last night. Fortunately, he kept his boxers in place or I'd have been tempted to paddle his bare behind until it was bright red. He thought this was hilarious and when I told him he'd gone too far he laughed - for five minutes. I sent him to his room for the remainder of the night and the smile fell of his lips in a hurry. He didn't get it.
So, Grammo is restoring some order. No more nicknames, no more outrageous comments, no more acting like we're all just kids together. There needs to be some respect for adults. I agree totally and to a degree they understood but it's eroded away these past months. I couldn't imagine talking to or behaving that way to my father. He'd have knocked me into next week. More than that, it simply would not have crossed my mind to even attempt it.
I always enjoy the closeness and casual candor that I share with the boys. I like being their friend, even while Taking on the parenting job. But I also know that a lack of respect will take us down a road we don't want to travel. This is one of those forks in the road I've spoken of that a parent has to take but a grampa shouldn't have to.
So here I stand one step further down the parent path with a bit of heavy heart knowing that this is a marker, a turn I can't retake, one of many that separate me further from being just plain ol' fun Grampy and make me "the one who must be obeyed".
All well and good if that was only as far as it goes but somewhere along the line they've lost the perspective that I am, in fact, an adult and should be treated with a certain respect. We can kid and joke and be intimate to a point but I'm not one of their 10 year old friends that they can swap gross insults and truly tasteless remarks with. The point could be made no clearer than Tio dropping his drawers to moon me last night. Fortunately, he kept his boxers in place or I'd have been tempted to paddle his bare behind until it was bright red. He thought this was hilarious and when I told him he'd gone too far he laughed - for five minutes. I sent him to his room for the remainder of the night and the smile fell of his lips in a hurry. He didn't get it.
So, Grammo is restoring some order. No more nicknames, no more outrageous comments, no more acting like we're all just kids together. There needs to be some respect for adults. I agree totally and to a degree they understood but it's eroded away these past months. I couldn't imagine talking to or behaving that way to my father. He'd have knocked me into next week. More than that, it simply would not have crossed my mind to even attempt it.
I always enjoy the closeness and casual candor that I share with the boys. I like being their friend, even while Taking on the parenting job. But I also know that a lack of respect will take us down a road we don't want to travel. This is one of those forks in the road I've spoken of that a parent has to take but a grampa shouldn't have to.
So here I stand one step further down the parent path with a bit of heavy heart knowing that this is a marker, a turn I can't retake, one of many that separate me further from being just plain ol' fun Grampy and make me "the one who must be obeyed".
3.06.2011
Sometimes parents have to make the tough calls
Kit and Doc had a kerfuffle today. It appeared Doc may have hidden Kit's treasure box. After sufficient grilling, the young Jedi knight continued to profess innocence against odds that he had probably hidden it. Buddy found the box. It might have been dropped, might have been stuffed there so the question remained whether Doc perpetrated a crime or was an innocent party accused of this heinous act.
Okay, so much for the drama. This stuff happens every day with kids. What was interesting was when I suggested to Buddy that he decide what to do about Doc lying. He couldn't do it. He straddled the fence, thinking that what he'd seen and heard from the boys could go either way. Maybe Doc did it or maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Finally, he went silent.
I said "well then no harm, no foul. Both boys need to learn to treat each other better." I had them shake hands and we moved on. After the boys went downstairs, I asked Buddy privately what he really thought. He still refused, or couldn't, make up his mind. It was a perfect study in indecision. He didn't want the responsibility of making a commitment, even in private that might cause a punishment. Both Tish and I were sure that Doc had hidden the thing, and I bet Buddy was too. He just wouldn't say it.
Sometimes parenting is about doling out bad news and tough calls, even if you're wrong.
Okay, so much for the drama. This stuff happens every day with kids. What was interesting was when I suggested to Buddy that he decide what to do about Doc lying. He couldn't do it. He straddled the fence, thinking that what he'd seen and heard from the boys could go either way. Maybe Doc did it or maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Finally, he went silent.
I said "well then no harm, no foul. Both boys need to learn to treat each other better." I had them shake hands and we moved on. After the boys went downstairs, I asked Buddy privately what he really thought. He still refused, or couldn't, make up his mind. It was a perfect study in indecision. He didn't want the responsibility of making a commitment, even in private that might cause a punishment. Both Tish and I were sure that Doc had hidden the thing, and I bet Buddy was too. He just wouldn't say it.
Sometimes parenting is about doling out bad news and tough calls, even if you're wrong.
OCD and the five year old
Doc is a special mix of obsessive compulsive, nervous energy and constant chatterbox. He notices any change and worries why things are different, makes sure his plate and fork and napkin and drink are all at the table before he can eat, needs to know where everyone is as soon as he comes in the door, and never shuts up to the point of distraction.
He asks the same question over and over and over until I'm ready to scream. To save my sanity I insist that he listen to answers and stop asking questions over and again hoping he'll catch the drift. Not this crafty little five year old. He'll ask his brother instead of me, he'll paraphrase or put the question in a negative. Instead of "are we going to the park?" he'll say "do we have to go to the park?" -- even if it was he who wanted to go.
The latest is beautiful. We were doing errands in town and one stop was the grocery store. Along the way I got the groceries elsewhere so we could skip that stop. As we're passing that store, the tiny voice in the back seat who simply can't contain himself pipes up, "I wonder, Grampy, where Market Basket is?" he even feigns scratching his head in earnest curiosity. With no response from the driver he tries again, "Hmmm, Grampy, do you know where Market Basket is?" Still with no response he turns to his brother for help. "Tio, do you think Grampy knows where the store is? I wonder if he does." Finally I tell him we don't need to go there after all and he moves on.
If he doesn't slow down the poor kid is going to blow his own mind before he gets much older.
He asks the same question over and over and over until I'm ready to scream. To save my sanity I insist that he listen to answers and stop asking questions over and again hoping he'll catch the drift. Not this crafty little five year old. He'll ask his brother instead of me, he'll paraphrase or put the question in a negative. Instead of "are we going to the park?" he'll say "do we have to go to the park?" -- even if it was he who wanted to go.
The latest is beautiful. We were doing errands in town and one stop was the grocery store. Along the way I got the groceries elsewhere so we could skip that stop. As we're passing that store, the tiny voice in the back seat who simply can't contain himself pipes up, "I wonder, Grampy, where Market Basket is?" he even feigns scratching his head in earnest curiosity. With no response from the driver he tries again, "Hmmm, Grampy, do you know where Market Basket is?" Still with no response he turns to his brother for help. "Tio, do you think Grampy knows where the store is? I wonder if he does." Finally I tell him we don't need to go there after all and he moves on.
If he doesn't slow down the poor kid is going to blow his own mind before he gets much older.
3.04.2011
Honest don't come easy
It's interesting how differently each boy responds to the demands of expectations such as manners, lying, and apologies. The two older boys play everyone according to their needs. If they can get away with a lie, they will. Even stick to a bad one. If they didn't respect you, you'll know it.
Not so with Doc. He's a lot younger and hasn't been exposed as much to inconsistent expectations. He hasn't learned the fine art of the phony apology yet so respect and apologies mean something to him. He doesn't want to fake it. He'd rather lose something or take a punishment before he'll say he's sorry if he isn't.
Listening to him and Tio this afternoon was a perfect case in hand. Tio asked him to say "please" when asking for a treat he was fixing. I didn't intervene, just listened from the next room. Doc saw no point in manners but clearly wanted the treat he couldn't make himself. He was reduced to tears rather than say "can I please have one." "Gimme" was the best he was willing to do but it didn't work. Stubbornness and insincerity had him completely boxed in. He finally said the magic words and Tio was happy to share.
I wasn't sure what Tio was getting out of it except to drive the little kid crazy but I agreed that he should be polite. What I got out of it was a great lesson in what was ahead for Doc. It's good that he won't surrender without meaning it, but stubborn is a mean animal all on its own. The challenge will be to create an environment for him to want to be polite, respectful, and honest without second guessing himself or seeing no point.
No small feat.
Not so with Doc. He's a lot younger and hasn't been exposed as much to inconsistent expectations. He hasn't learned the fine art of the phony apology yet so respect and apologies mean something to him. He doesn't want to fake it. He'd rather lose something or take a punishment before he'll say he's sorry if he isn't.
Listening to him and Tio this afternoon was a perfect case in hand. Tio asked him to say "please" when asking for a treat he was fixing. I didn't intervene, just listened from the next room. Doc saw no point in manners but clearly wanted the treat he couldn't make himself. He was reduced to tears rather than say "can I please have one." "Gimme" was the best he was willing to do but it didn't work. Stubbornness and insincerity had him completely boxed in. He finally said the magic words and Tio was happy to share.
I wasn't sure what Tio was getting out of it except to drive the little kid crazy but I agreed that he should be polite. What I got out of it was a great lesson in what was ahead for Doc. It's good that he won't surrender without meaning it, but stubborn is a mean animal all on its own. The challenge will be to create an environment for him to want to be polite, respectful, and honest without second guessing himself or seeing no point.
No small feat.
3.03.2011
Tio tells a joke
Tio made up a "yo mama" joke today:
Yo mama is so stupid that she wore a blanket through the entire cold war.
I thought it was worth an honorable mention. After all, a sense of humor is a terrible thing to waste.
Yo mama is so stupid that she wore a blanket through the entire cold war.
I thought it was worth an honorable mention. After all, a sense of humor is a terrible thing to waste.
I'm back
I'm finally recovering from all the minor ailments that wrestled me to the floor. It's strange how a bunch of little things can add up to one overwhelming thing. It's Wednesday and I haven't been out of the house since last Saturday and then only a quick run to the store. I don't mind staying home for days on end, I just hate being forced to because of illness.
Once the clouds have passed, I always feel renewed like I have a fresh start on everything, even the things that got left undone while I was out to lunch. I skipped a blog or two, I got behind on some silver work, I didn't keep up with what's going on with the kids, etc. but nobody suffered and I feel rebooted and ready to rumble. It takes a kind of focus I used to have in abundance and now, super-powered nonrealistic expeditious doofus that I am, I think I can do it again - at geezer speed.
Today Kit turned 10 years old, Congress is making the usual ass of itself, the Mideast is in turmoil, and I'm up late. I think I'll wax philosophic some other time.
Once the clouds have passed, I always feel renewed like I have a fresh start on everything, even the things that got left undone while I was out to lunch. I skipped a blog or two, I got behind on some silver work, I didn't keep up with what's going on with the kids, etc. but nobody suffered and I feel rebooted and ready to rumble. It takes a kind of focus I used to have in abundance and now, super-powered nonrealistic expeditious doofus that I am, I think I can do it again - at geezer speed.
Today Kit turned 10 years old, Congress is making the usual ass of itself, the Mideast is in turmoil, and I'm up late. I think I'll wax philosophic some other time.
3.01.2011
Shouldn't the children come first?
Today I slept, took a trip to the doctor and then stayed completely walled off for the evening wishing the damn painkillers would have some effect. All the while, Tish spent the whole day doing load after load of laundry and cleaning house. I owe her big time for that.
When I finally managed to get down the stairs late this evening, Buddy tells me that Debbie, the ever responsible mother to his children, has just quit her job and moved back in with her parents. You see, child welfare just caught up with her employer and would have started garnering her wages for child support this week so, rather than pitch in to help her kids out, she quit her job. I'm sure she has a million other excuses why, people like her always do, as long as the responsibility doesn't land on her. I imagine she's got it figured that helping the kids means helping Buddy, or us, and she can't stand the thought of that. She'd prefer to be a deadbeat mom and live off her folks than stoop so low.
Isn't it always the way with some people. They work so hard at looking after themselves at a huge cost to everyone around them. They find excuse after excuse to lay blame to make themselves a victim. Meanwhile, others, without thought or concern about their own needs, put themselves out to look after those around them. At what point in life do we separate into one or the other camp? Is it ordained by birth or learned? Can it be unlearned and what would it take for one so self-centered to see that the world really doesn't revolve around them all day and night?
I'm not surprised that Debbie's job ended this week. I imagine it will be a long time before her children see a penny from her, or anything else for that matter. I wonder, in the end, after time and water has gushed under the proverbial bridge, who will get the blame for the estranged relationships she reaps? She can blame me and Buddy and Tish and even the boys themselves. But will laying blame ever undo the damage she causes or the bitterness she sows?
It's never too late to change... until it is.
When I finally managed to get down the stairs late this evening, Buddy tells me that Debbie, the ever responsible mother to his children, has just quit her job and moved back in with her parents. You see, child welfare just caught up with her employer and would have started garnering her wages for child support this week so, rather than pitch in to help her kids out, she quit her job. I'm sure she has a million other excuses why, people like her always do, as long as the responsibility doesn't land on her. I imagine she's got it figured that helping the kids means helping Buddy, or us, and she can't stand the thought of that. She'd prefer to be a deadbeat mom and live off her folks than stoop so low.
Isn't it always the way with some people. They work so hard at looking after themselves at a huge cost to everyone around them. They find excuse after excuse to lay blame to make themselves a victim. Meanwhile, others, without thought or concern about their own needs, put themselves out to look after those around them. At what point in life do we separate into one or the other camp? Is it ordained by birth or learned? Can it be unlearned and what would it take for one so self-centered to see that the world really doesn't revolve around them all day and night?
I'm not surprised that Debbie's job ended this week. I imagine it will be a long time before her children see a penny from her, or anything else for that matter. I wonder, in the end, after time and water has gushed under the proverbial bridge, who will get the blame for the estranged relationships she reaps? She can blame me and Buddy and Tish and even the boys themselves. But will laying blame ever undo the damage she causes or the bitterness she sows?
It's never too late to change... until it is.
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