TheBanyanTree: Chronicles of Lunacy: Art Fun

[LLDeMerlè]

One of the children works hard at *trying* to distress me because they are
convinced that if I am not wailing, gnashing my teeth and wringing my hands,
then I am lacking in empathic skills and not feeling their pain as
sufficiently as they think I *should.*  Before I go to sleep at night I ask
God for peace and wisdom, and in the morning, as soon as I put my feet on
the floor, before I even move, I give the day to the Lord and ask him to
help me to be the example I should be, to hold fast to his peace and to be
guided by him.  Because, after all...let's just say I often feel as though I
am holding onto my sanity by a thread.  For instance:

This is funny, *now,* but yesterday? Actually, it began the day *before*
yesterday when returning home from a medical appt. with one of the older
kids.  I had just learned that the end of the term marks, "All Bs!"  were
actually only 2 Bs because they had dropped their other classes, just like
one of our other kids.  I was still in shock when I came in the door, and
there was the youngest one, looking all innocent and everything, so I said,
"Come here and give me a big hug and let me kiss your cheeks *before* you
tell me all that went wrong today and how your life is in ruins."

He was a little stiff, which meant trouble, and this was promptly confirmed
with

"I'm failing Art."

?

"I didn't get my Art project in."

?

"I forgot I *had* an art project."


Hmm.   The frustration of having to do everyone's critical thinking for them
reached a crescendo, for me, but here I am trying to remain calm while
someone else's thoughts are spiraling into the depths of blackest despair
and when I pointed out that this was not solving the problem, but, in fact,
a hindrance, well.  You don't want to know.

A couple of tantrums, a meal and some homework later, we were working on the
art project.  This went on 'til near bedtime (early for us) and Dad went out
to appropriate the necessary poster board.  I offered to drive the young
artist to school in the morning to give extra time to complete the project.

In the morning, assemblage began, and the only way I can think of coming
close to describing this event is to say that it was like watching the
Keystone Cops creating the art project.  I intervened an directed the
project with actually, not much resistance, for a change.  He had done the
research and the thinking, but needed a little nudge here and there with the
design.  

Five minutes before we are to leave for school the project is completed.
Paper and markers and scissors and white-out (to cover the smudges) were
everywhere, but it was finished.  We left for school.

There was much relief and gratitude, thanks for supporting and seeing that
it got done, on the way to school.  Oh, by the way.  I need money for thus
and such.

!!!!!

I write a check, give it to him, he adjusts his messenger bag, takes the
check, gets out and *runs* away.

Without the project.

!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!

I learned that shouting does not work through closed windows.  Neither does
flailing of one's hands when the other person is facing the opposite
direction.  I relented and beeped the horn.  He turns around and looks at
me, incredulous.  What could I possibly want???  Does he come over???  NO.
He stands and stares at me with his hands and shoulders in  the "Really,
what could you possibly want?" position.  I point to the back seat.  Light
bulb apparently considers going on as he tentatively returns, opens the door
and picks up the project.  He closes the door, slides over in front of the
passenger door, looks at me and giggles.  He gives me the "Oh, well," shrug.
He then begins to laugh, and shortly, guffaw.  Then, mercifully, he leaves.

Me?  I want to laugh, but I am too tired, and feel like I am going to cry.
Just from exhaustion, I think.  Fortunately, I had a JMT/TT CD in the
player, which helped peel me off of the ceiling, some, and by the time I got
home, I was close to approaching being human, but when I came in the door,
the phone rang.  It was my sister being sinfully cheerful.  I sprung a leak
and told her the entire story with all of the gory details and she laughed
'til she cried.

That made me feel better.  I then decided that as far as the older kids are
concerned....that if they want to do their own thing and have lives which do
not involve parental knowledge or approval, fine, that is their choice and
certainly their right, but then, there needs to be more adulthood on their
part.  A body can't swim if they are only sticking their toes in the water
with their arms around your neck, talking about how wonderful swimming is.
In or out!  

I took my trusty and cut the umbilical cord.  I infirmed one of them of what
parts of their life they are going to need to manage now (medical stuff, for
instance) and that we are still here for support and in emergencies, but
"parenting" and carrying them on our backs has come to an end.  They are
fired.  Get off the edge of the dock, the edge of the nest, learn to grow
up.  See you at Thanksgiving.

Kidding.  

But, you know...they want independence?  Well then, do it and we give us
ours back, as well, and if they won't give it back, which some won't of
their own accord, I am taking it.  It seems we may have to pry their little
wings off the edge of the nest with a crowbar, but...we can always run away
from home!

"Fly! Be free!"
-Mork