Tag: siblings

humor, motherhood

Zen Training

WFAM

I plopped down next to Full Speed to help him sort and fold some laundry.  Every once in awhile I like to help the boys with an occasional assigned chore.  My hope is that it teaches them to help others without being asked.

“What is your plan for me to come get you for the dentist tomorrow?” I said.

“What time is it?” said Full Speed.

This is where time seemed to slow down.  I felt myself leaving my body, hovering over the scene as anger arose from within me.

“I know you are not asking me what time your appointment is.  The one that I told you about and ask that you develop a plan for when I should come get you.  The one that I sent you a text message with the details and reminded you to figure out when I should come get you.  I am trying really hard to not sound annoyed right now, but I realize I am not doing a very good job.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute! You know you have to tell me things at least four times before I actually remember them,” said Full Speed (for the record I did, probably more).

It seems I could tell each and every one of the men I live with about appointments a thousand times and it would not be enough.

Eventually, with some mindful breathing, I accepted the situation as it was.  I also calmed my mood by realizing that I won’t always have to be in charge of my boys’ appointments.  At some point, they will need to figure that stuff out on their own.  My guess is, especially in the realm their future dental care, scurvy could be a real possibility for them…

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Later that night, I was writing out an early dismissal note for Full Speed.

“What period will you be leaving?” I said.

“I’ll leave after seventh period,” Full Speed said.

As T.Puzzle sauntered in the room, he caught a snippet of the conversation.

“Why is Full Speed leaving early?” said T.Puzzle.

“For your dentist appointment,” I said.

“Wait. When is that again?” said T.Puzzle.

I would write more but for the safety of my children, I have relocated to a monastery to begin my zen training in earnest.

I have no other option.

 

 

 

 

 

 

motherhood

Subterfuge

WFAM

I love that teenage boys think parents have no idea on how to beat the system.

T.Puzzle was in a world of hurt.  He did not like what was served for dinner (trust us, no one in our house found this shocking) and he tried to slyly dump its remainders from his bowl.  Mad Dog called him out but Lil’ T.P. took it even further.  He lied about it.  Said he had finished everything.

Um. No.

He was almost sent straight to bed.  Instead, Mad Dog determined the best course of action was to let him stay up but he would allow T.Puzzle zero snacks.  While zero snacks does not seem that extreme, to a growing boy who barely touched his dinner, this felt rather catastrophic (which is kind of the point if we are being honest).

The boys went back to their game room.  It is set in the furthest reach of our home, tucked away but still a few steps from the kitchen.

Always the kitchen with these guys!  In and out, snacks upon snacks.  I sometimes marvel they both haven’t turned into potato chips by the sheer volume of snack foods they consume.

So, when Full Speed comes meandering into the kitchen, he decides for the first time in ages he is going to have Oatmeal Squares.  While this seems like a normal, teenagery snack, and it is, it also happens to be one of T.Puzzle’s regular favorites.

“You’re planning to give your brother some aren’t you?” said Mad Dog.

“Maybe.” said Full Speed.

Boy, you can’t beat the system when your Mom and Dad invented the system.

I dedicate this post to all the siblings out there fighting parental oppression.  It is real and causes so many problems like learning, growing and developing into normal, human adults.

Fight on, my friends.

Fight on!

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T.Puzzle doing his best to ‘tower’ over me.  Nice try!

 

humor, motherhood

Picture This

WFAM

Unbelievably I was asked to submit a baby photo of Full Speed to commemorate his upcoming graduation.  It is hard to fathom that he is on the cusp of being in high school but, here we are.  There were so many great photos to choose from, I sent in several.  The parent committee chose to display this one:

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Full Speed’s obsession with Elmo is evident by the joy of his smile.  Love this photo!

T.Puzzle would like a different angle when it comes to his future 8th grade photo selection.  He wants something that feels authentic to him.  After his coaching, I found a couple of gems.

When my boys were small and T.Puzzle would wake from a nap, I would plop Full Speed in his crib and they would wrestle and play.  More often than not, as it seemed to be the natural tendency of their interactions, their play would quickly turn violent.

Things would start out happy:

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This is the photo T.Puzzle wants me to send in once things went south.

At least his smile is genuine:

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motherhood

Full Speed is Home!

WFAM
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Go ahead.  Ask me if it freaks me out that Full Speed looks like a college freshman in this photo.  I dare you.

He’s actually been home since last week.  I just haven’t had time to write about it.

We officially survived our three weeks of separation and Full Speed enjoyed his experience away so much, he wants to do it again next summer.

However, we all agree, having him home and being together has been awesome.

There’s one particular guy that is extra happy his big brother is home.  He had grown mighty tired of doing all of his chores (which are pretty nominal in the grand scheme) and Full Speed’s, too.

It got to a point when I asked him to do something, he wouldn’t exactly say ‘no’, but would feign being hard of hearing.  Unfortunately for him, his dimples gave him away.

Every.

Single.

Time.

For instance:

“T.Puzzle, please take the trash out.”

Total silence.

Then, slowly, his dimples would cave-in the corners of his cheeks and mischief would dance across his eyes.

He had to take the trash out anyway.

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This pic says it all.

Welcome Home, Full Speed!

Now, go take the trash out.

Love, Mom

 

 

 

 

 

 

children, family, humor, motherhood, parenting

1, 2, 3 Strikes You’re Out

WFAM

I want to give you fair warning.  This post is going to be pretty emotional.  You are going to get a sense of how deeply connected T.Puzzle is to me, his overarching love of school and lastly, Full Speed’s brotherly commitment to look out for T.Puzzle.  It’s all there…enjoy.

In recent months we have been noticing a theme in T.Puzzle’s life.  And that theme is…video games.  He is rather obsessed and talks about gaming constantly.  Even when we have a round of ‘family questions’ at the dinner table, rather miraculously he can loop it back to video games.

Here are some examples:

If you could be anyone in the world for a day, who would you be?

“Someone allowed to play video games all day and night long.”

If you saw your friend steal something, would you turn them in?

“That depends on what it is.  If it’s a cool video game, probably not.  I’d want to play it with him.”

You get the idea.

A couple years back, T.Puzzle was given the task at school to make me a Mother’s Day card.  Here’s the final result, and get those tissues ready… the tears are going to fall…

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I told you it was emotional.  I’ll give you a minute while you collect yourself.

Better?  Good.

Since it’s clear that T.Puzzle loves video games above all else, what’s a mom to do with this sort of intel?  About two weeks ago I put T.Puzzle on an incentive program.  His manners and attitude still often leave much to be desired.  If he happens to forget his manners, roll his eyes at me or give me lip when asked to do a chore, he gets a strike.  If he gets three strikes in a seven day period, he loses gaming privileges for the weekend (the only time he is allowed to play them during the school year).  Naturally, it’s working pretty well.  Except for this past week, he was feeling particularly ornery with his brother and had already used two strikes.  We were on the edge of our seats…would he make it the final stretch without a strike?  He did ok on the last night, but he still had to make it through the morning (the seven day strike period runs Friday after school through Friday morning the following week).   As he trounced into the kitchen this morning I asked, “Do you think you can make it until you go to school without getting another strike?”

“Sure!  But I better leave now!  Gotta go.  Can’t wait to get there!”  This all coming from a kid who is currently appalled that he has perfect attendance.

Of course, this made me laugh.  He is self-aware enough to know that his inabilty to control impulses could land him in third strike territory.

We managed to get through breakfast and the rest of our morning without incident.

T.Puzzle was first out of the garage with his bike as usual.  I turned to Full Speed and said, “Can you believe he actually made it without a third strike?”

“Mom!  He didn’t say goodbye to you!  That’s an automatic strike!”

“Nice try, kid.”

“I’m serious, Mom!  He rode his bike DANGEROUSLY FAST down the driveway.  He’s gotta get a strike for that.”

“Full Speed, it just warms my heart how much you look out for your brother.”

Wonder if he loves him as much as video games?