Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Done With School

I am tired of school. Taking four weeks off (for our vacation and ensuing sicknesses), I am trying very hard to get finished so we can take a much needed summer break.

I have tried to change my methods of teaching and base it on my children's personalities and strengths, but I must confess to struggling with this. When one child thrives on movement, noise and music and it distracts the other, and the other doesn't want to be alone in their bedroom (and peace and quiet) to do their work because they're "lonely", then I find myself at a loss. A genius I am not. More than that, patient I AM NOT.

Today my son surprised me by getting up, getting dressed and doing his chores without any prompting from me. Thinking this was the start of a very good day, I soon found out I was mistaken. Previously walking normally, he went into the bathroom and from there started complaining that his leg hurt. And needed my help. And whined. And whined. And whined.

I understand that I have not been effective in getting this blasted habit out of him controlling his tendency to whine. I am trying very hard to change that. I have obviously mollycoddled him far too long. So, I informed him that he could camp in the bathroom if he wanted. I was not coming in. His leg was fine prior to this. And I got up (he was in our ensuite with the door shut), shut my bedroom door and went into the living room, where my daughter was practicing the piano - thus effectively drowning out the noise.

It worked. He quit crying and *miraculously* walked out of the bathroom.

Now on to school. With my son, a ten minute assignment takes at least an hour. And then he has the nerve to whine that "he doesn't want to do school anymore". Today I had enough. He went to bed every time he whined. Consequently, he was in bed......a lot. School dragged on. He got up, did a bit, and ended up back in bed because he "forgot" and whined.

Eventually he got the picture, I guess because I held out long enough (which is my biggest problem.....obviously). He finally came out, sat down, did his school diligently. I told him I did not want to hear about his leg at all. I told him that because he is a master exaggerator and whiner, I tended to not believe him when he whined about some pain here or there, and that one time he really was going to have a true problem and I wouldn't believe him if he kept on whining so much.

This is what came out of his mouth instead:

"Ouch.......(then catching himself..)...um...oops."

"My leg is trying really hard to make me cry, mom," he informed me with a ((smile)).

He then began to LAUGH at the pain in his leg. Yup. Laugh. Cuz if whining doesn't get you attention then surely LAUGHING will. I had to STOP his laughing.

And I really don't want there to be NO LAUGHING in this house.

To all my dear friends who so kindly read this blog, will you please pray for me? I do write this while laughing, but truly, I do need God's inspiration. I need to effectively handle my son without.....SNAPPING.

And I truly need summer vacation. God bless.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

The Lame Man

It begins like this.

Because the kids have been sick for three full days with fevers; because they have been house bound for those three days; because I did their papers on Wednesday (while grandma babysat) because they were sick; AND because they are on the mend today with their fevers gone; THAT.........

Dad very wisely suggested that they needed to get outside today to do the papers. It didn't need to be rushed. It could take however long it needed to take, but the fresh air would do them good. I wholeheartedly agreed.

Immediately following this announcement, our poor, young son discovered that he was lame....{{sniff, sniff}}.

BOTH of his legs, directly below his knee caps but above his calves, were "hurting really, really bad".

"You have NO IDEA how bad my legs are hurting, mom!" he wailed.

He got out of bed to go to the bathroom and COULD NOT HOLD HIMSELF UP! Imagine! He landed on his bum with a wail, proclaiming his inability to stand. I heartlessly told him to crawl to the bathroom then. He continued to wail. Dad came into the bedroom to talk to me. We completely ignored the invalid. We talked ABOVE the wails for at least five minutes. The wails grew louder. I stepped over him to go to the kitchen. The crippled boy got on his belly and pulled/pushed himself on the floor to the kitchen, proclaiming that his "belly hurt in that position!" I.......very kindly.......turned on the bathroom light for this poor child (because there were monsters there in the dark you understand) and told him however he had to bring himself to do it, to get to the bathroom. I was NOT lifting him up. He managed to pull himself into the bathroom and shut the door. And continue to wail for another five minutes.

If Hannah is the drama queen of the house, Seth is MOST definitely the drama KING. In fact, he wins the overall prize for drama in our house.

Dad finally opened the bathroom door (after we stood in our bedroom laughing for a while......these things require a sense of humour to keep your sanity) and convinced him of the need to go to the bathroom. Truthfully, I honestly didn't care whether he wet himself. I wasn't helping him. I have been stuck in the house myself with sick kids and my patience was EVEN LESS than normal. What were wet pajamas and a wet floor? I would just get Junior to clean up the mess anyway. That was my attitude.

After he managed this miraculous feat, he came wailing out of the bathroom, still proclaiming his inability to walk. So, dad offered to *massage* his legs. Lest anyone thinks this was harsh, I was witness to it. It wasn't too hard at all, but it was such that Seth did not like it. Dad continued to *massage* his legs until Seth agreed to walk his pain away.

Back and forth down the hallway, our poor, weak child shuffled. Back and forth. Back and forth. Wailing the whole time. We told him he could quit walking when his *pain* was gone. So, of course the pain didn't leave immediately. It took about 15 minutes of walking AND WAILING for there to be a noticeable improvement.

When I finally had enough, I told him that his legs would definitely get more strength if he STOOD IN THE CORNER until the whining ceased.

He stopped. (Maybe we should've thought of that first, I don't know. Sometimes you just have to try things out though....).

While our miraculously-healed-lame-boy was eating his breakfast, eyes swollen, he was surprised to find HIS MOTHER - on her hands and knees - crawling, and whining, and moaning, and wailing down the hallway........


Needless to say, the morning ended up.....funny after all. My son even wanted me to repeat the scene. Both of my children were totally surprised that I could/would crawl ALL THAT WAY on my hands and knees down that *mile* long hallway, and laughed hysterically.

(How insulting is that! Maybe they should BOTH go in the corner!!)