Family Quandaries and Other Dirty Laundry

Mom’s are Mean because they love

Yesterday was report card day for the Falls Middle School students. This day is of interest to me as I have two boys who attend Bolich Middle School. In years past I have painstakingly monitored and given aid as needed or as I determined that these boys needed; however, since Evan has been in the sixth grade I have backed off and allowed him more independence - freedom. My helicopter days have ended.

At times I have been pleasantly surprised by how well they have done. At other times, I have been shocked at the “poor quality” and “lack of effort” comments written in the margins of the grade card of my eldest son.

Yesterday if I would have received an evaluation, mine would have read “poor quality” and “spastic effort.” This evaluation would be on my parenting skills.

First Seth handed me his report card. I knew that there was a strong chance that he had failed his math class.  A “D” appeared at the bottom of the report card, preceded by a line of straight “B’s.” I commented to Seth that I was proud of his effort and that it was good that he managed to move up from failing to a “D.”

Seth has never had a “D” in his life. He was very sad. I tried to be sad with him - but frankly I wasn’t. He needed to experience disappointment and failure at a young age - he is just so damned prideful.

All and all, things went well between Seth and I. With Evan it was an entirely different matter. I requested Evan’s report card - expecting him to forget it at school for days or weeks like he has done previously.  This time he promptly handed it to me. I scanned the grades and attacked him with both my words and my actions.

Instead of appreciating that he had actually given me the report card, I had criticized his grades, 2 “A’s,” 2 “B,” and 3 “C’s.” The margins read “average effort.”

I ordered him to clean his room and to get used to manual labor. I am so ashamed that I could be so hurtful - so thoughtless and uncaring. I was a monster - who was out of control.  After about only five minutes, I immediately felt remorse and sat in my room contemplating how to handle my major parenting blunder.

Meanwhile, Henry is attempting to “throw himself down the stairs” because I won’t give into his demands.

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I calmly tell him that he can do that and I can not stop him from hurting himself, but I will not change my mind. Then he attacks me verbally with, “You hate me, you want me to die.” I laugh out loud and say, “Henry you know I love you and that I have never said that I want you dead. You are so silly.” Henry seemed surprised by that response because I usually get annoyed or frustrated with him. Things were different this time.

Having pacified the “Tyrant,” I moved in to handle the mess I had created with my first-born son. I ask Evan if we can talk. At first he ignores my attempts to engage him. I persist, “Evan, you have every reason to be angry with me. I was unkind and hurtful. You did not deserve to be treated that way. I was wrong.”

He stopped cleaning his room and sat on my bed. We talked (amidst several intrusions by his younger brothers who were demanding my attention) about what had happened. I confessed that I reacted badly, but I did want to know what he thought about his effort.

He told me that he had tried and was “caring again” about his school work. I was confused and he told me how at the beginning of the grading period he had not completed assignments and that was why at least one of his grades was a “C.”

I turned the conversation from the actual grade to his effort. I asked him what he puts effort into.  He said, “Nothing.” I looked at my son and he had tears in his eyes. I so desperately wanted to touch him. I did so and told him that I loved him.  He seemed cry more.  I asked him to tell me what was on his heart - on his mind.  I told him that I loved him and that grades were not the most important thing - but caring about others and loving is. I told him I was sorry. I asked for his forgiveness.

He opened up with me about some things he was feeling.  He had some anger about how he is treated as compared to his brothers.  In a way, I had to say he was right about some things and wrong on others. I listened and affirmed what he said.  I asked more questions and tried to listen well. I let him know what I agreed with and what I disagreed with and why.

When he was done talking and I felt that he knew that I heard him, I asked if he had ever heard of temperaments.  He said that he had not.  I explained the concept and then I discussed the strengths of the phlegmatic and then the weaknesses. I asked if any of that sounded familiar.  He just laughed.  I did too.

I continued to talk about specific ways that his temperament is so good for our family - things I appreciate about him. I also talked about specific things that are problematic. He seemed to consider and appreciate what I said. We actually connected -  in spite of my terrible, initial reactions.

Evan embraced me and told me that he loved me. He said that he would give me a full hug and not a “guy hug.” I guess that makes me special.

Although I totally blew my initial interaction with Evan, I think that we truly restored the relationship. This conflict actually gave both of us time to discuss what we were thinking and feeling - to share ourselves with one another. I feel even closer to my son than I did the day before. I think he feels the same too.

Not that this excuses how I treated my son, but I am hopeful that I can change and thankful that I had the opportunity to connect.