. . . when I grow up . . .

Recently Toby asked me, "Mom, why did you choose to work in a college rather than in a zoo?"

Well . . .

 

That led to a discussion about education required for working in a zoo (science, math, animal science), which led to a conversation about careers and goals.

When he grows up, Toby's goal is to play in the NFL. 


Hmmm.
 

I pointed out to Toby that one of the things he didn't like about basketball was how rough it was, while football might be a wee bit rougher than basketball.

I asked Toby, "Do you want to play football next fall?"  (please no, please no!)

Since it would not be flag football, he does not think so.  "But I still want to be an NFL player when I grow up, Mom."


Okay.  I can handle that.



 
In the event that he does not make the NFL, Toby would like to be:

a zookeeper 
or better yet, a zoo owner.






 I'm so glad to hear that he has a backup plan!

Sticks and Stones

We've all heard it: ". . .sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me. . ."

It's not true!  Words have the power to wound!  My instruction manual that came with the birth of the boys made no mention of this.  Nothing in the extended warranty either.  I don't remember any of my baby books mentioning the developmental stage of "seething ball of rage"!

Language has power, and my pre-adolescent wields a serrated edge lately!

Jonah has started calling his brother, "Tubby, Tubby, Teletubby."  We've tried to ignore it.  Doesn't work.  Why?  Because he gets a reaction from his brother. 

I don't think of myself as particularly thin-skinned.   I can brush off most of what I hear from the boys when they are feeling sulky or scornful.  However, one of the more recent zingers packed a punch!  It went something like this,
". . . and you call yourself a mom . .  you are NOT my so-called mom!  I was adopted!"

I think I burst out laughing.  Or was rendered speechless with shock.

To be fair, I had some choice things to say about my own parents when I was a teenager.  Ah, the righteous scorn of a child who knows so much more than the clueless parents. . . I guess this is payback.

I am completely THRILLED that Jonah is choosing words over fists and I have to be grateful about this.  There is a tiny part of me that secretly LOVES the glimpses of quick wit, subtle sarcasm and irony that Jonah both understands and uses.  Because language is power! 

Let's hope that he will learn to wield it well and one day stop slaying his family with his words.

Walls

Our cat Jazzy loves small enclosed spaces.  She has even contorted herself to crawl inside a cereal box- clearly a tight fit.  The walls holding her in must make her feel safe.  She likes to feel her boundaries.

So, too, with 11 year old boys.  

We have struggled all year with Jonah’s tendency to rush through his work without regard to neatness or accuracy.  His teacher knows he is capable of better quality work, and continues to promote better work habits in Jonah. (I have learned from other parents how fortunate we are that his teacher refuses to give up on or cast aside this habit as “just laziness.”)  

Ken and I had recently chatted with Jonah about his semester report card, specifically what we consider acceptable work and grades.  It was not 10 days later that his teacher approached me after school, saying, “I need to talk to you.”  Words I would be perfectly happy NEVER to hear again.

It seems that instead of boosting his performance after the report card talk, Jonah took things to a new low: not participating appropriately in groups, not staying focused, and attacking his work with even more haste and unconcern than usual.

We took some time to gather input from those giants in our lives, PARENTS WHO HAVE BEEN THERE!  When we finally sat down with Jonah, he was in a fairly receptive mood.  Our main messages were:

1.    We expect better from you, because you are capable of better quality work.
2.   We love you and are here to support you and help you.
3. You have choices in how you approach your work; but just as in the real world, consequences follow choices.

He didn’t know what was coming, however. 

Jonah was shocked when we told him that his privileges were gone:

•    time with friends
•    screens (this includes video games, movies, his I-Pod)
•   and the privilege of staying home by himself 

After the initial outburst, we noticed something. For the rest of the weekend, Jonah was strangely happy, affectionate, and wanting to spend time with his parents. Is it possible that Jonah’s fears and worries -- about middle school in particular and with growing up and having more responsibility in general -- found an outlet in his poor academic behavior?  Was he stretching out in the hopes of finding his walls, his boundaries?  Did he just need reassurance that people love him and are paying attention? 

Like his cat, Jonah seemed to need to be in a small space and feel the walls hugging him.  

This is not to say that the past couple of weeks have all been rosy, however.  Jonah is chafing against his restrictions: this is a good thing, as it is motivating (we hope).  

Jonah is working to earn back his privileges one by one.  He must meet Mr. G’s and our expectations for homework/schoolwork (quality and accuracy) in addition to showing respect and responsibility.

Ken and Jonah conferenced with Jonah’s teacher yesterday, and Jonah has made SOME progress in the past two weeks, which is a good sign.  He renewed some goals and set others and we will see what the coming weeks bring.