It's uncanny how similar my own personality is with my oldest son's. On many occasion I can see my early developing persona being lived out before my eyes. On one such occasion was this past Friday. As was the case over the past several years, I heard the bus pull up, the kids get off & the usual chatter coming up the steps into the house. Except this time I was hearing sobs.
I, meanwhile was "indisposed" & listened through the walls as what apparently was Cameron walking through the house as he "boo-hoo'd". My thought was that he either injured himself or something was said on the bus or by some kids outside as he got off the bus that upset him. Regardless of this he, & his brother, were supposed to be going through their "routine" of hanging up their backpacks, making their beds, & doing their other chores. A routine I had to physically supervise repeatedly 5 days a week, 9 months a year, for the past 4 years. And it was getting old.
When I confronted Cameron, his face was soiled with tears, contorted & red from his crying. He blurted out to me that he'll "never" get his Schoolastic books again. After conducting a brief investigation into what he was talking about, I discovered his very strict, old-fashioned 4th Grade teacher at Nittany Christian handed out those popular Schoolastic Book orders (I couldn't wait to get mine when I was in elementary school in Booneville, AR either), but told the kids they could not open their order "bag" until they got on the bus. It seems a lot would tear into their book order & not get the rest of their classwork done. Cameron, so wrapped up at the anticipation of getting to dive into his new books, left--again for the 2nd time--his homework folder & his assignment book at the school. This after having to sit out recess on the bench for doing the same thing the day before.
However, using surprisingly good self-control, he did obediently wait until he got on the bus to open his bag--only to find the teacher mixed up the bags & he got another student's order. Now, to him, this meant that his order went to another student who would probably toss his book order out the door into the trash & he'd never see it again. This realization deteriorated into a complete shut-down of his mental faculties & caused him to also leave his lunch bag on the bus for the weekend.
So now we have no homework, no assignment book, no lunch bag, & no Schoolastic Books...and Cameron was having a catatonic meltdown over it. He couldn't even get control enough to focus on getting his chores done either, which was lighting my fuse. This is a kid who gets side-tracked at the drop of a hat--which was exactly my problem at his age--and since this is an issue that's "close to home" with me, is an issue that I have little patience for. So, I erupt with a lecture on responsibility & dealing with disappointment, while demanding him to pull himself together & take care of his responsibilities at home.
After 10 minutes, he's still sitting on his unmade bed, in his bedroom that's strewn full of dirty clothes, toys, & books over the floor. I hit the roof & condemned him to his room for the weekend & he was to put his nose in the book he was reading so he could have it done in time to do his report on it at the end of the next week. No play, no toys, no TV, no this, no that. Just reading. I fully intended to use this weekend that Mommy would be away at a church women's retreat as one that I would teach him a lesson. He would stay in that room only coming out long enough to pee, poop, & eat.
I stormed back into the den to look over the homework papers my youngest son had brought home for review & began to think about how I would let one event unravel everything else that would happen in a day. I also thought about how smart Cameron is in that he really doesn't have to do much studying because he has a memory like a steel trap & has constantly come home with grades that were over the top. He even has scored so high that he now attends an "enrichment" class for gifted students. But it still gnawed at me that in spite of this kid's amazing academic ability, he would flunk on something as mundane as forgetting to turn in homework on time.
Once the storm blew through & things began to calm down a bit, and Cameron had spend a good 15 minutes silently reading in his room, all wrapped up in his comforter, it was as if the voice of God whispered in my ear, "Go sit with him. Don't do or say anything else. Just go sit with him on his bed while he reads."
After mulling over this suggestion, I walked into his room & asked him if he was feeling better. Looking up from his book he replied, "A little. I was just sad because you were yelling at me..." I sat down with him in his bed & he snuggled under my arm as he continued reading. After a few minutes he asked, "What are you doing?" "Sitting with you while you read," I replied. Then he continued to read on to himself. Several more minutes passed & he asked, "Dad, what is a 'lunch-ee-on'?" He had hit a word in his book he didn't understand. "That's 'luncheon'...it's like a fancy lunch," I said.
And this continued for the next several minutes, his occasional question on a word, & my answer, then silence. Finally I looked at my watch & he asked if he could go outside to play. I thought to myself, "oh, what the heck...we've all had a bad day" & replied to him, "Sure. You've read enough for today."
