Return on Investment

The other night I was talking with G about his great choices of late.  I asked him what he thought made the difference for him.  He responded: “Well, Mr. Peter taught me, and I remembered.”

 

I'm so grateful for all Mr. Peter invested in this sweet boy.

 

Good Choices

G had an unbelievable summer, behavior-wise. 

 

There was the one incident with the locked bathroom door to conceal the broken faucet.  But I kind of chalk that one up to “boy” more than to “lack of self regulation.”

 

Otherwise, his choices have been astounding me.  Like when he asks for gum to help himself calm down.  Or when he calls: “I’m angry!”  Or even when I give him a consequence and he responds by… complying.

 

Not saying we’re perfect.  But we have come a lot closer to healthy.  And it’s very nice.

You know that moment...

... when you're up against an end-of-day deadline at work, but you get the call that your 6-year-old is home tantruming, and in talking you discover that he has deliberately locked the bathroom door closed (and the adults there can't get it opened) (your one bathroom that has a shower in it), so you de-escalate the tantrum and hurry back to your deadline, which is quickly approaching because you're leaving early to get to a 4:30 appointment, which lasts a bit long - which was great, but also not good, because you have to feed your child before you go to 7:00 Book Club, so you rush home and start some rice (and receive cheers for rice & beans) (thank you, God, for rice and beans!) and then you work to appropriately discuss the locked-door situation while still POURING into a 6-year-old love tank, and grabbing the Book Club book, when you decide to try fixing the door really quickly - and you get it OPENED!

And then you discover that it was locked to hide the fact that your 6-year-old broke the faucet.

You know that moment?

Silver Cadillac Escalade

G is saving up his money.  The decision has been made.  Nothing but the Escalade will do.

 

It all began at the park.  G and another boy played together for a while.  Then the boy indicated that his dad should get something from their car. 

 

Out came a giant remote controlled monster truck.

 

The boy started driving it.  G stood, rapt, tracking every move. 

 

Time passes.  Periodically, the dad asks the son, “Do you want to let G have a turn now?”  G waits, full of anticipation.  The boy keeps driving.  Every now and then, the dad comments to me “He’s at that egocentric age” or “We’re hoping he learns to share soon.”  Then – “Do you want to let G have a turn now?”  The boy keeps driving.

 

I understand that disaster is very very close.  It’s time for G and me to leave the park.  I announce: “5 more minutes!”

 

“Do you want to let G have a turn now?”  The boy keeps driving.

 

“Ok, G.  Time’s up.  We have to go.”

 

I am prepared for what’s next – running away, yelling, defiance.

 

Instead, G places his hand in mine and we turn toward our car.  We make it halfway when G begins to sob – anguished heartbreak.  He continues walking  (oh what progress we’ve made!), sobbing.  I don’t know how long it lasts.  6-year-old devastation.  And incredulity.  It would never occur to G not to share.  Truly.  The meanness rocks him.

 

At home, G asks me, “That dad – where did he say dat monster truck came from?”

 

"There’s a store called Toys R Us….”  Three years in the USA and I’ve withheld the knowledge of Toys R Us from him.  Until now.

 

An excursion was planned.  That store is insanity.  Right?

 

G loved the vehicles aisles (yes. plural.).  He found a great remote controlled monster truck.

 

But everything else faded when we got to the battery-powered kid-sized vehicle aisle.  G sat in every car.  Each next car was THE car for him.  Until he spotted the Silver Cadillac Escalade.  Done.  Not even the police car would sway him.  The Escalade would be his ride.

 

The fact that it cost over $300?  “Das ok cause I can save my money.”

 

The fact that G earns $1-$2 per week?  “Das ok cause I can save.”

 

The fact that we have no garage to keep it in?  “Das ok cause Joey (next door neighbor) has a garage and I can park it there.”

 

The fact that our neighbors have no extra room in their garage?  “Das ok.  I find a place.”

 

The quest has begun.  I’ll keep you posted.

 

p.s. If you happen to be G's grandmother, please do NOT send over a Silver Cadillac Escalade.  Unless you send a garage with it.  Thank you.

 

Progress

I notice that I've been posting about G's behavior... and that I've slanted the stories to the negative.  While the negatives make more entertaining stories, we really are experiencing a lot of positives!

At school, the children start each day with 3 stars and then lose stars as the morning wears on.  But G has come home with all 3 stars every day except twice... and then he's only lost 1 each time.  He's shining in kindergarten!

And at home things have been much smoother too.  I'm no longer living in fear that Mr. Peter is going to pull a "today was my last day" departure.

I'll keep posting the funnier stories.  You keep in mind that they don't necessarily reflect our whole reality.

p.s. One of the times that G lost a star in kindergarten, it was because he told Vince: "You lose!"  That was breaking the "Use kind words" rule.  I know that I tend a bit towards the competitive, but -really?  Is G supposed to say "Congratulations, you're the second winner!"  C'mon.

Dinner Table Conversation

Me: "What happened at school today, G?"

G (full of drama): "I was da line leader an this boy he said to go there but I said I's the line leader so then he bash me in da nose!"

Me: "He bashed you in the nose?  So what did you do then?"

G (complete self righteous confidence): "Wewl, I turned like dis, and I carefully bash him."

Me: "G, when there is trouble, I want you to remember that you can tell your teacher.  It's not a good choice to bash people."

G (patiently trying to help the slow-minded mama to understand): "Mama.  I CAREFULLY bash him."

What do I know?  He came home with all of his stars (kindergarten motivation system).  Maybe the modern education includes careful bashing.  Maybe?