Day in the Life of an Idiot

 I have a window open and the sun is shining on my face. It's a gorgeous day. 

Of course, I instantly looked at the leaves still covering much of our front gardens and yard and thought, "Someone should take care of that." Since I am sitting in the upstairs sunporch, apparently decided that that 'someone,' was not, in fact, me. At leas not right at this minute. I might have to go out and poke around a little. It's REALLY nice out. 

We'll see. I don't actually have a huge amount of time before I have to get ready to go pick up Eleanor. It's Friday, so a group of us are meeting for our usual hangout at Claddaugh. 

Mason's home sick again, though. This one was a bad one. Migraines are like that, though. He emphatically did not want to deal with the fact that rebound headaches are a thing. as is a need to recover from the first one, (and was in such a state that he convinced himself that a second absence = utter and complete failure.)  Thus, we were half way to school before I made the executive decision to turn him back around. 

I wish I understood how better to talk to Mason about the high standards he puts on himself. I'm sure, if I had taken him to school and he'd had some kind of physical or mental collapse the school would be looking at us demanding to know why we push him so damn hard.

We don't. This is all him. I am constantly talking to him about how grades aren't the end all, be all. I know that he definitely got the message from the University of Chicago's dean that transcripts matter, but I tried to explain to him 1) attendance isn't EVER looked at, 2) particularly if the overall GPA is good. And, GOOD, it doesn't have to be only A+s from here on out, either. What they are REALLY looking at is that you've challenged yourself, taken the hard classes that might net you a B, but are not "Basketweaving 101."

Mason seems also quite convinced that successful people never take breaks. Given that both me and his mom do, I'm guessing he either doesn't think we're successful (a possibility) or he must have superheroes for colleagues (or both.)  Because I asked him, "Are you saying NO ONE in your classes is ever sick two days in a row?" He was convinced this morning, at any rate, that no, none of them are EVER out sick more than one day, and then only once every blue moon. I have no idea how to counter that. Only later did it occur to me that there's something wonky about this thinking that goes beyond the obvious. Obviously, people can do well and be out sick more than one day. However, what is this strange benchmark in Mason's mind even saying about people who are chronically sick? Are they automatic failures? When did attendance = intelligence, anyway? I have no idea what's going on with him this morning, except, I suspect, he's just feeling panicked because AP tests are coming in a week and the migraine exhausted him to the point of hysteria.

Both of which are legit.

But which make me feel even better about putting my foot down and demanding he pay attention to what his body is telling him.

I didn't post yesterday because, over the weekend, my wireless hotspot died. I'm beginning to think we may have always had a slightly defective model, but what happened (in the simplest terms) was that stuff that was supposed to stay on the inside came outside. Bad, right? The good news is that CLEAR sent a replacement right away. I called them on Friday morning and we had a new modem-y-thing/hotspot by Monday afternoon.

I was on-line long enough to check my email, but I had to use... GASP... dial-up. Yeah, I still have it. Actually, you'd be surprised how often it comes in handy to have a low-tech back-up. Of course, this from the woman who still can't even find a PAPER copy of her "12 Traditions" short story to re-key/have someone scan.

This morning we had a lot tears. Mason can be downright rude on ocassion and Mom and I are losing patience with him. We've asked him to start saying "please" and "thank you" instead of just rudely saying things like, "Get that for me." The only change we'd like is a please in front of that, you know? My brilliant thought this morning was that if he continues to be rude, we'll have him put 50 cents of his allowance into a "politeness jar." A physical and monetary reminder to add a please or a thank you.

Well, Mason FREAKED (which, as I told him, only cemented the need for this new policy.) I mean, you'd think we'd asked him to cut off a limb. But, despite wicked allergies this morning, I managed to stay firm and very calmly remind him over and over and over and over that we are only asking for basic politeness. He won't lose anything if he can remember to say "please." This isn't about taking things away from him for no good reason, it's about making the stakes important enough to inspire him to REALLY change and to think about what he's doing.

Mason sometimes has weird disconnects about this stuff, particularly in terms of consequences for behavior. We've worked on this a lot, with varying degrees of success, but sometimes he doesn't seem to GET that he can be responsible for/manage how he presents himself to the world, even when (internally) he feels a different way. He also has a surprising (to me, every time) defeatest/fatalistic attitude about inacting changes in behavior. Basically, I get a lot of, "I can't change who I am." To which, I constantly and consistantly reply, "Yes, but you can change how you talk (or react or whatever)."

I partially blame myself for this. I mean, I've always told him that expressing his feelings is okay. Now I'm seemingly changing the rules by telling him to alter the way in which he expresses his feelings. I've been trying to approach this by reminding him that it's still okay to have the emotions he has, but he just needs to take a breath before screaming or being rude and consider other options.

Alas, this is probably a life-long project. And one I'm not sure I'm particularly well suited for. I've always been a fairly empathetic person. I think it's one of the things that makes me a good writer. It's never difficult for me to put myself in someone else's position, imagine as parents might ask, "how would you'd feel if someone said (or did) that to YOU?" Mason has a lot more difficulty going there, and that baffles me. I waste a lot of my parenting time wondering why he isn't more like me. I just need to remember he's not as intuitively empathetic and that these things do not come naturally for him, and start there.... instead of having whiplash each time this comes up.

What so baffling about this politeness issue is that Shawn and I are constantly modeling the behavior we'd like to see. I can hardly ask for something without adding a "please" automatically. So it's not like we're expecting him to do something we haven't ALWAYS done in front of him.

I think that another thing that's hard as a parent. I kind of always assumed that my kid would pick up on behavoirs he sees me doing. He's certainly picked up my out-going, talkitive nature. I see plenty of my least favorite personality traits showing up in his behavior. Why not this one? Why did this one bounce off?

Well, I think that after tha LONG and exhaustive talk we had today about it, things might be sinking in. I'm going to make our "politeness jar" now and hope that we've had some kind of break through.