Response & Ability *or* Boy-Child & the Lenovo Laptop

I did a thing.

It's not like I've never done something like this before. I totally have.

It's a good thing, really. Although the current result of the thing is that I have a child who hates my guts. I guess I'd rather have him hate me for a little while than for him to grow up to be an irresponsible leech.

OK - I'm getting ahead of myself.

History: Years ago, when Boy-child was affectionately called "Kiddo" he broke his antique wooden bed frame, which had belonged to his grandmother, because he pitched a fit and destroyed it. When he said I needed to get him a new bed (remember, he was "Kiddo" then, so I'm thinking he might have been six years old) I said, "Oh no buddy...that's your job. You can sleep on a crooked bed until you can save the money to get a new bed frame."

GASP!
                                HORROR!
                                                                       
SCREAMING!
                                CRYING!

It was awful.

I explained to him him that he broke the bed. He was having a tantrum (during which, I did another unusual thing: I sat there quietly and let him scream) because Mommy was picking up the things which were completely covering his bedroom floor. He didn't take care of his stuff, didn't care enough about it to put it away somewhere, and when he expressed his displeasure in the form of screaming, crying, and having a breakdown, he broke his bed. HE broke his bed. Not me. Therefore, it was his responsibility to replace it.

If he broke someone else's toy while he was playing with it, I told him, I would expect him to replace it.

He wasn't happy with me, but again, I'd rather have him mad at me than to raise an ungrateful child who doesn't respect himself, others, or his things.

Fast Forward to this week: Last week of school. Now, in our school district (I can't say anything about other districts) they assign a device - a sweet little Lenovo laptop - to each child 5th grade and above. This is managed through the school. Each child has to essentially sign a contract saying they'll take care of it, make sure it doesn't get broken, and if it does get broken, it's a $50.00 fee. Period.

So, at the end of the year, they collect everyones' device, inspect it, and send a letter home with a picture of any damage found, requesting payment.

My almost high-schooler said, "I need $50 to pay for the laptop repairs."

I said, "Nope."

GASP!

HORROR!

(Less) Screaming.

(Little) Crying.

"WHAT? I need to pay for it!"

"Yes, you do," I respond.

"But school ends today!" says he.

"I know that," say I.

We follow this path down a rabbit hole. I finally explain to him - yet again - that the computer was his responsibility, not mine. That if he didn't have enough money, there is a list of chores on the board in the hallway and he could earn some money to pay for the repairs that way. I was not - repeat NOT - going to simply hand him $50.

I asked Boy-Child if anyone had EVER made him take responsibility for something he'd done before in his life. (Knowing the answer, of course.)  He said, "Yeah - when I broke the bed and you made me pay for it."

Uh huh.

"This is the same thing, bud," I tell him.

I was really hoping for a light-bulb of understanding to suddenly appear over his head, but no such luck.

I called Hubby. I explained the situation and said, "I really need you to back me up on this."

That was this morning. I don't know where Boy-Child is with this at the moment, but hopefully he's being proactive and finding chores to do which can earn him some money.

I am HAPPY to help him in this way. He's fourteen. He's old enough to earn his own money in a limited way. He's very proactive about earning money when he wants something, but when I want something, or there is a situation like this one with the slightly damaged computer that does not belong to any of us, he wants someone else to pay for it.

And I say, "Nope."

Does that make me a bad mother?

Nope.

Does it upset me that he's upset?

Yup.

Does that matter?

Nope.

I saw something the other day that resonated with me, and I'll share it here: Responsibility is made up or two words. Response and Ability. "Responsibility isn't something someone puts on  you. Responsibility isn't in your job description. Responsibility isn't a paper you sign. We all find ourselves looking at situations, and we all find ourselves with abilities. And what we have to ask is, given those abilities, what then will be my response to those abilities?"

I have the responsibility to raise my children to be decent humans. Responsible humans. Humans that care about themselves, others, and their things. And so no, I really do not feel badly that I am making Boy-Child pay for his own computer. Even though about 90% of the other students are dealing with the same thing. Even though all these computers are about 3 years old and have had daily use. Even though he was careful and it "just happened." I don't care about all that. Your excuses mean nothing to me.... Not really. And, while I absolutely feel for you, sweet boy of mine, you and only you, are responsible for paying for those damages.

TTFN
JMS

OPINION: "They"

I am going to apologize ahead of time only for the randomness of this post. I've seen so many instances recently of hate, hate crimes, or general disgust for both individuals and for groups. I've had it. I am very much a proponent for the "Why can't we all just get along?" Movement - and if there isn't a Movement, there should be. I don't believe there shouldn't be conflict. Conflict with intent to resolve a situation in a humane way is part of who we are. But conflict for the sake of conflict? Argument for the sake of argument? Not really. I don't believe one person is intrinsically right or intrinsically wrong, but I do believe each person has the right to be heard. To be seen. I also believe we need to be careful with our words, because Edward Bulwer-Lytton was right. Let's replace "Pen" with "Word"....?  I think spoken words are quite mighty.

If one uses the word “They” when referencing an entire group, one should be cautious. To say “They” and then follow it up with an assumption could be, at the very least, unkind, but more likely detrimental. For example, referring to all LGBTQ individuals as “Those people” or “They” is simply rude. Or, when discussing maybe a style of dress or a propensity toward extravagance for the same community, saying, “They all…” would be like saying all persons of color are bad (they’re not), or all cats have fur (they don’t) or that water is wet (which is another conversation for another time). More accurately, and certainly less hurtful, would be if you were to say, “They are just trying to be the best they can be.” Even further, you’d be spot on if you were to say, “They are trying to make a life for themselves, with all the rights and privileges thereof.” Do you want to be referred to as “They?” Again, I use this as an example. We vaguely refer to “They” in a tongue-in-cheek manner, such as The Bureau of They or The Ubiquitous They to mean those unknowns who have decreed things (ideas, rules, etc.) to be a certain way. "I don’t know, I didn’t make the rules, ‘They’ did.” But to use “They” specifically…well, that could get you into trouble unless what you're stating or claiming is proven fact. That is unless you don’t care about the feelings and rights of others. I know that lack of caring is definitely driving this society right now; we're all far too selfish to think of others, unless one is asking how another can help you or what they can give you.

I preach acceptance to my kids. Acceptance! Acceptance!  Acceptance! I let them know that I expect them to treat everyone well, even if someone is not their favorite person. I know every time I pull out my soap box, one of them says, "Oh, no. Here she goes again." Add in a little smirk and maybe some eye rolling. But here's the thing: I KNOW THEY LISTEN! I know, because I've heard them talk about it, seen them show it. I'm not just referring to the LGBTQ community - though of course that has been part of the conversations. I'm referring to ANY situation where someone (human or animal) is treated as less than he or she should be. I've been on the receiving end of that stick too many times to count and I know how it feels to either be lumped in with a group of people who don't entirely meet my personal standards of living (they're unkind, thoughtless, selfish, rude...), or they simply have a mean streak a mile wide. I'm sure there are many other reasons why one would feel a certain way.

And I know, I can hear you all cringing. "You should let your kids think for themselves! You should not push your opinions on them! You should let them cultivate their own feelings about something." But again I remind you I'm not preaching acceptance toward, and love of, one single community; I'm using these things as EXAMPLES for my children and I try very hard to put what I say into a real-life situation for them so it will be clear for them.

In my house, we do not treat people with disrespect. And when we do, we're called out on it. My kids are as aware of that as I am. And further, we ALL fail. There are days where tempers are short, bodies are hurting or feeling unwell, emotions are on the surface, nerves are frayed. Oh yes, we fail. But we KNOW when we fail and we can beg forgiveness when and if it's necessary AND MEAN IT.

Maybe I'm not making sense.

Bottom line for me is this: That Golden Rule thing? That's not just a religious creed. We ALL want to be treated well. So, if you would be hurt or offended by something said or done to you, or one of your kids, or maybe even your animals, then please, for the love of love, don't pay that forward.

TTFN
JMS

The What If Game

I've never been one for games.  Not really.  I’ve enjoyed a good game of Solitaire on occasion.  I think crossword puzzles are jolly good fun.  I like Monopoly, as long as I don’t have to be the banker and I can use either the shoe or the dog.  Jenga is fun with multiple people and with two stacks of bricks on top of one another, both on an exploding base.  I've enjoyed a few rousing games of Cards Against Humanity (I will not apologize!  I have never laughed harder!  It's good to be rude, occasionally, and among trusted friends!).  I've never been one for sports, to play them or to watch them, though I enjoy men’s college basketball.  Golf, tennis and baseball are, to me, like watching paint dry.  But there is one game I hate, loathe and despise.  My children, especially boy-child, like to play this game often.  It is called The What If Game.

Here’s how it works:

• What if I didn't brush my teeth?
• What if I just picked out my clothes in the morning?
• What if the sky wasn't blue?
• What if I just read for ten more minutes?
• What if that cloud over there was over our heads right now and we were the only ones getting rained on?
• What if I slept with my feet where my head usually is?
• What if I didn't do my homework?

Alright, I know.  Those are probably not the greatest examples, but I think you get the picture.  What if this?  What if that?  And this game has no rules, per se.  Mostly, in the mind of boy-child, the point of The What If Game is to extend an argument or not do what he has been asked to do. 

So, What If I just walked away and didn't play the game? 

“MO-OM!  CAN I FINISH WHAT I WAS SAYING? 
YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME!!!!”

(Oh, the humanity!)  Usually, at this point, there are tears already on the verge of spilling.  I understand he’s frustrated.  I truly do.  The problem here is he tends to talk so much at home without getting to the point, I tend find myself drifting to other things in my head rather than listening to him with 100% of my attention.  This is my failure, too, I know.  Eventually, I have to ask him to please stop, take a breath for goodness sake, and to simply do what I've asked him to do.  This is the point where The What If Game begins, extending his not-complying-with-mom’s-edict, culminating in “MO-OM! CAN I FINISH WHAT I WAS SAYING?” when I simply walk away, refusing to argue anymore.

The What If Game is endless and always (always) leaves all players frustrated and upset.  It’s a worthless, unproductive waste of time and I loathe it.  A much more creative, pleasant and surprising game for all involved is The Yes Ma’am/Sir Game.  I think we could save a lot of time playing this game instead of that game.

TTFN
JMS

A small job well done

I whined a lot yesterday, didn't I?  I guess I should feel the need to apologize, but I'm not going to.  Well…okay, I guess maybe I will – just a teensy bit – because I certainly wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable and decide never to return.  It felt good, though, to get those feelings off my chest.  Thank you for allowing me to vent.

***

My girl-child had some trouble with her homework the other night.  It wasn't as if she couldn't do the work, she simply didn't want to do the work.  Apparently it was different than her regular homework and she chose to complain about it (speaking of whining) rather than doing the work.  She wanted to go outside to play.  She was hungry.  She wanted to watch television.   She was just humming a song, mo-om!  Sheesh!  She had to use the bathroom probably more times than was really necessary.  There were tears.  She was a mess!

Meanwhile (recall my previous post about anger management issues) I was doing laundry and trying to figure out supper and from her all I continued to hear was grumbling.  I mentioned I was making a concerted effort to speak kindly, or at least politely, and my patience was being tried – but I pushed through it and managed not to holler at her.  

Then I decided to paint my toes.  (My toes said they wanted to be blue, so they are now blue.)  I figured I could flop on the bed, toes in the air, and “help” girl-child with her homework.   Which is exactly what I did.

At this point, she'd been “doing” her homework for well over an hour, when typically she can fly through it in twenty minutes or less.  This kind of delay is very unusual for her so I figured there was something more going on than her just not wanting to do the work, but really – I think she was bored with it.  Somehow, I managed to con her into to not only finishing the first page of her math homework but the second page as well.  There was giggling involved…so I guess whatever I did was successful.

So, not only did I find a tiny spark of happiness in painting my toenails blue, but I found a small flame of joy when girl-child responded positively to my assistance.  Unfortunately, there was no television and no outside, because by the time she'd finished her work and eaten her supper, it was already very close to bedtime.  But she went to bed happy, which made me happy.  I guess I need to consider it a small job well done.

TTFN
JMS

Girl-child Drama

Oh. My. Golly. Golly. Goshness! (That’s my polite way of saying it’s been an amazingly hectic weekend.)

Friday night, both kiddos spent the night at their friends’ house.  (Same house.  Same friends.  Brother friends with brother.  Sister friends with sister.  It works out because they all get along so well and because the friends have brave, amazing parents.)  Anyway – sleepover night.

Saturday night, girl-child attended a sleepover birthday party with five girls. 

Sunday arrived.  Mom of sleepover party birthday girl brings girl-child to church and I can tell from the second I see girl-child that she’s not just tired, she’s TIRED!  Purple-circles-under-her-eyes-and-pale-skin-tired.  This isn’t the mom’s fault; far from it.  But when you get five 8 and 9 year old girls in one place for a sleepover, giggling ensues and little actual sleep happens.

Anyway, girl-child makes it through Sunday school and now we’re about 15-20 minutes into actual church service when (pardon me) all Hell breaks loose.

I was multi-tasking, which, truth be told, I shouldn't have been doing during church service, but I was trying to coordinate boy-child who had lucked out and was able to stay another night at the first friend’s house and so wasn't at church with us.  Friends were trying to figure out swimming at the fitness center but realized they’d need a parent to sign him in.  Hubby and I were both in church, so I was trying to politely ask if they could wait until we were done.  Meanwhile, girl-child had read two words of the text: “brother” and “swimming” and had an absolute meltdown.  Red-faced, crocodile tears, “brother always gets to do all the fun stuff and I don’t!”  No amount of consolation or hushing worked so I resorted to removing her from the situation.

Luckily, hubby and I drove in separately this morning so I was able to take girl-child home. 

When we got home, girl-child went directly to bed.  She did not pass “Go.”  She did not collect $200.00.  She slept for two solid hours.  When she woke up (on her own) she was immediately provided with a snack and some juice to tide her over until lunch could be had.

Then, for the rest of the day, a wonderful afternoon at the very-crowded park, and dinner with friends, she was perfectly fine.  Until we hit about 6:45 PM when TIRED reared its ugly head again and she wanted to go home.  “Mom, I’ve just really had a rough day.  I think I need to go home.” 

Now, she is soaking in a warm bath (with her hair piled on top of her head so it won’t get wet), playing with her bath toys (a beluga whale from Mystic Seaport and a black horse that has hair and spots that change color in warm water), sipping on a cold Perrier (“Mom! Can I have a drink, please?  I’m really thirsty!”), she’s happy.  Not “singing” happy, but happy.

Good thing this upcoming week is Spring Break or tomorrow might be a difficult school day.

TTFN

JMS

SERIES: Email Diseases: How they affect your life and how you can avoid them (Issue 2: SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS)

Do you like to be yelled at?  Does anyone?

DEAR MR. SCHMOE,

YOU, SIR, ARE A BOIL ON THE BUTT OF SOCIETY!  YOU HAVE NO IMAGINATION AND NO ABILITY TO DO THIS JOB AND I, FOR ONE, THINK YOU SHOULD BE FIRED!  SINCE I HAVE NO AUTHORITY IN THAT MATTER THE ONLY OTHER THING I CAN DO IS YELL AT YOU AND TELL YOU WHAT I THINK OF YOU AND YOUR STUPIDITY!  I AM RIGHT AND YOU, SIR, ARE WRONG!  I THUMB MY NOSE IN YOUR GENERAL DIRECTION AND WISH TO DISASSOCIATE MYSELF WITH YOU ENTIRELY!

SINCERELY,

MR. DOE

Argument A

Picture, if you will, an email exchange between two individuals engaged in an electronic argument.  (I shall not make something up here because my ability to argue successfully extends really only to myself – I tend argue with myself a lot – and to very few others.  Needless to say, debate class in high school was not my very favorite thing.  Though some would say I live to argue, this is simply not the case.)  These two individuals have allowed their virtual disagreement to escalate to a point where one user (let’s call him USER 1) has finally lost his ability to reason effectively and has resorted TO SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS in order to make his point.  The other user (let’s call him USER 2), upon receiving the SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS, sits back in his chair feeling defeated and thinks: “Well!  You don’t have to yell at me!” Followed by some choice words (fiercely unspoken) directed at USER 1.

Argument B

Imagine, now, this same exchange – however long it may have been – in person.  Two people, standing nose to nose, both red-faced and obviously ticked off, each about a stones-throw away from coming to blows.  To the outsider, it is apparent one individual of this duo is the instigator and the other is simply doing his best to hold his ground and not allow himself to be bullied.  Both are furious with one another.   Both believe they are right and the other is wrong.  The shouting is disruptive to others around them both in a way that disallows these others to be productive employees and in a way that makes these others truly uncomfortable.  It could be that a few of these others are interested in this heated exchange in the same way a passer-by might be interested in a train wreck, but for the most part, people have scattered to other parts of the building to attend to suddenly urgent duties elsewhere.  This argument culminates in one person finally blowing his top and shouting, “YOU’RE WRONG!  YOU’RE JUST WRONG!  YOU’RE STUPID, YOU DON’T KNOW THE PRODUCT OR THE CUSTOMER BASE AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!”  Whereupon hearing this, the other individual deflates, says something quietly to the shouter which witnesses can’t really make out, and slinks off to lick his wounds.

Does the “winner” of either argument actually win?  Or is that person simply better able to argue some point or another and, possibly, better at wearing down his opponent?  Does it make the “loser” less right, or his argument less sound?  Granted, it will depend a lot on the actual argument and since I did not see fit to imagine one for you we’ll really never know.

But…what does all this have to do with SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS?

In my most humble of opinions, using SHOUTY CAPITAL LETTERS in an electronic exchange is, quite simply, unacceptable.  I tend to use capital letters if I am trying to place emphasis on a word or phrase that underlining or italicizing will not draw adequate attention to.  But in those cases, it is usually very obvious that I am NOT shouting.

I read a story once (well, actually, if I’m being honest I’ve read this particular story multiple times) about a group of Solomon Islanders who had an ancient practice of felling trees by yelling at them.  (All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten by Robert Fulghum - http://www.robertfulghum.com/)  The theory behind this practice was that yelling killed the spirit of the tree and so it died and fell over. 

I believe that being yelled at does, indeed, kill one’s spirit.  Especially if one is yelled at often and for an extended period of time.  To make one cower before you by the very act of yelling – out of anger, frustration, intent or intensity of feeling – is a lowly act and one that only makes you a bully.  Yes, there are absolutely reasons why yelling, on occasion, is warranted; but only on occasion.  If you go around yelling at people all the time, will you have any friends?  Will anyone truly love you and will you be able to truly love?  Will anyone respect you?  Listen to you?  Act on your words or simply ignore you?

Ending an argument by so thoroughly defeating your opponent is akin to abuse and yes, in some cases, even murder.  Do you really wish to kill someone’s spirit by yelling at them?  I believe there are much better ways to win an argument and that, my friends, requires finesse, an adequate understanding of, and ability to use, the English language, and a genuine desire to make your point without completely steamrolling your opponent.

Just some food for thought.

TTFN
JMS

(Cross Posted: http://tananda.com)