Thursday, July 9, 2015

In The Future...

I think maybe I wasn't prepared for having a boy.

Maybe I'm the only person who thought having a boy would be an easy, breezy CoverGirl beautiful existence. And then he turned 10 and something happened.

For the majority of the afternoon, this boy has been sequestered in his room, probably playing Minecraft which I told him not to play. (We had what should have been a 45 minute doctor's appointment--I'm having a vein fixed--stretch into a two hour doctor's appointment. This makes zero people happy.This also forces people to resort to devices for entertainment because otherwise WHAT WOULD WE DO? Talk to each other? Close and confined spaces also bring out the worst in those two, who are dangerous and will bite and kick.) This means that for a lot of the time he has actually been awake on this day that nobody is happy about--and nobody is counting hours because we need to be distracted by other things than tallying hours on a device--he has been staring at a screen and building a world of weird blocks and dogs with red eyes that get mad.

It makes him verra unhappy to be torn away from his screen. Especially when he is being torn away from his screen under duress. And then is expected to wash his sheets and put his shoes away. 

I have a lot of nerve.

The chain of events today--starting with get ready, we are going to the doctor and ending with give me your Kindle and go get the sheets of your bed and go put your shoes away--turned him into A Very Mopey Kid. A Very Mopey Kid with an attitude.

This is annoying to me.

What happened to my sweet little boy who said "OTAY" when I asked him to be a big boy and help me with his sheets? Where did that guy go? Because this guy who trudges around bemoaning the fact that he is bored and there is nothing to do is not making the easy breezy picture I had in my head so easy anymore. Where does this moodiness come from? And better yet--boys are moody??

I expected it from the girl. Mood swings and manic laughter and sobbing and screaming and fits of rage and slamming doors and hi, I'm your best friend all in one glorious five-minute span is totally expected. (What I didn't expect was the absolute unreasonableness. Not at all.)

But this? This is like what? I don't even know how to deal.

So I offered to play rummy with him. That's a fine game to play, right? Apparently when you're in a mood, rummy should be accompanied by much mumbling and grouching and general bad-moodiness that you shouldn't have to explain.

Since the rummy didn't go so well, and winning didn't even bring a smile to his face, I focused my attention elsewhere, only to discover _____ minutes later that the boy had escaped to his room once more. Leading to a conversation from one floor to the other.

Come out of your room.



Because you need to come out of your room.


After considerable thought, I offered the best reason a parent can ever give.

Because I said you had to that's why. And das the only reason you need, man.

In the future, when your son asks you, "What is the meaning of the stipulations, decrees and laws the Lord your God has commanded you?" tell him: We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the Lord brought us out with a mighty hand."
{deuteronomy 6:20}

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