Night & Day

My oldest son, Wesley, is the smart one. He is quiet, laid back and extremely curious. He'll seize on an idea and have to know EVERYthing about it, to the point where everyone around him is rolling their eyes and wanting him to shut UP already.

Connor is the sporty one. He's brave, imaginative and extremely competitive. He throws himself into things and doesn't spare a thought for consequences.

Today we got a call telling us Wesley was accepted into the International Baccalaureate middle years program. It's a prestigous magent program for kids with high IQ's who have demonstrated advanced critical thinking skills. Connor, on the other hand, got in trouble for starting (and winning) a burping contest in the cafeteria.

I can safely say, with only trace elements of sarcasm, that I am very proud of them both. The world can never have too many smart, thoughtful people and a well timed burp? Well, shit, that's priceless.

The Dr. Phil Thing... or, How's That Working For Ya?

Connor has periods of mild to moderate screaming crazy. Times where he absolutely will. not. listen- to mom, to dad, or to reason. For those special times we have an ace in the hole, a trump card or some other card playing analogy for when you just want it over already. That would be Dr. Phil.

Years ago, Connor & I were at home watching Dr. Phil. The topic that day was Out Of Control Kids, complete with video of a small boy howling, banshee style. Connor was transfixed, he looked at me & without the slightest bit of self realization said "That kid is BAD". Seizing the teachable moment I told him he acted the same way sometimes and how would he like me to invite the Dr. Phil show to come vidoetape him during one of his freak outs. This was not acceptable to Connor. I'm not sure whether or not it was thinking of people watching him & judging him or just deep resentment of being exploited for ratings, he never really said. Maybe Dr. Phil just scares the cheesy old shit out of him.

From then on whenever he starts to get out of control, when the center becomes wobbly, we will ask him "Do you want me to call Dr. Phil?" "Do you?". The result is always the same "Noooooo!" and a run to the couch or other place of safety and immediate adoption of Good Boy Posture.

Full disclosure; during one pre bedtime negotiation/freakout, Chris MAY have pretended to call Dr. Phil from his cell phone and then ALLEGEDLY gone to the front door, knocked on it & yelled "WHERE IS THAT BOY?". Allegedly.

Don't you judge me.

Adventures in Bad Parenting: The Screenplay

SCENE:
Exterior school, early morning.

A boy , Wesley, exits the car wrestling with his rolling backpack & Spider-Man lunch box.
Mom rolls down the window

Mom: ( shouts) Wesley!....Wes!

Wes: oblivious- continues walking.

Mom: (car still rolling) WES! LEY!

Wes: comical look of surprise

Mom: Where's your sash?

Wes: Eyes wide in confusion, has clearly never heard the word sash before in his life and cannot associate it with any inanimate object connected to him

Mom: (still rolling) YOUR SASH WES!

Wes: …….

Mom: (still rolling & shouting) YOUR PATROL! BELT!,

Mom: (mutters under her breath) Doofus

Wes: eyes widen in dawning realization

Mom: DID YOU FORGET IT??

Wes: nods

Mom: YOU'RE GOING TO GET A DEMERIT, SON!

Wes: Eyes wide, chin trembling

Mom: (shrugs) YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO USE A SPARE ONE. SORRY

Mom drives off feeling guilty- but not quite enough to go home, get his patrol belt & bring it back up to him. Lumps are being taken, consequences are resulting from actions.

END SCENE

Adventures in (bad) parenting

Connor comes to me with his book of Life Savers (which I'm pretty sure you're federally required to get for Christmas when you're a kid) and asks me to open it for him. I didn't mind him having a roll but didn't want him to go nuts and have to peel him off the ceiling. This is your brain on Butter Rum Life Savers. Any questions?

I carefully explain to Connor the drawbacks of eating a lot of candy at once. One of those drawbacks being constipation. I told him his poop would back up & his stomach would hurt & when he finally was able to go to the bathroom, well.. let's just say the words "doody brick" were used.

Connor gets this horrified look on his face and starts backing away from me yelling "I DON'T WANT IT!". He's completely freaked out, he wont go NEAR the Life Savers now, he won't even let his brother eat any. We had to dispose of all the Life Savers in the house like they were hazardous material.
Also, just to put a fine point on it, everything he's eaten tonight he clears it with the Digestability Review Board (me) first. 'Will this come out in my poo?' 'Will THIS?' etc...So I've scarred him for life. It had to happen sometime & there's worse things to have a life long aversion to. Plus it gives me an idea for a birthday present. Do they make Hazmat suits in 5T?