My son has been struggling a lot lately. He doesn't like to
acknowledge this. He's the kid whose arm could fall off and even though
you point out that he has a stump, he argues that it's not actually a
stump it's just a shorter arm without hands and fingers. Or like a blind
person who will refuse to acknowledge their blindness even though they
bump into every corner, screaming OW! and then changes direction to walk
into a wall instead of just asking for help or direction. It drives me
crazy! He is getting better every year and now, he will bump into walls
and not corners. A few weeks ago, the school sent an email asking for
volunteers for Lego League. Joshua LOVES Legos. He is creative and loves
to build. So as a good mom, I signed him up and then volunteered as
well. I sacrificed my mornings to make sure that I would be available to
help the team in the evenings. I talked it up and reminded him for the
umpteenth time that his behavior would affect his ability to remain in
the club. When we were there together, everything went well. The next
week, he struggled and later that week, I emailed the coach to say that I
was going to keep him out that day because he didn't get his homework
done. I sent him back the next Monday and then got the dreaded call. The
week before, Joshua was an absolute nightmare. He wasn't listening,
etc. etc. The same old pattern of behaviors emerged. Eventually after
many miscommunications, I talked to the coach and teacher and she
informed me that he was no longer going to be a part of Lego League
because of his behavior. This was one day of poor choices and this
wonderful thing was gone. We discussed this and how it happened that he
couldn't participate. It was a hard lesson. I was hopeful. Maybe that
would get his attention. And it did... for 24 whole hours. The next
week, he got in trouble in school for almost the exact same behavior.
And this time, it cost him a party at the end of the 9 weeks. All the
kids have to do is get in trouble less than 15 times in 9 weeks. They
have these things called HABIT letters. Every letter stands for a
choice. When you make a poor choice, a letter disappears based on the
letter it violated. 15 warnings before you lose this party. That is a
pretty low bar... And of course, my son lost out. So next week, he'll be
the only child in his class who doesn't get to participate. We talked
about it. He connected it and then the next day, lost more habit letters
for being rude and argumentative. FRUSTRATING!!!!
At times, I
can handle it. But today, I was just through. I'm tired of it all.
Sounding like a broken record, my son's self pity, all of it. One of the
sayings in our home is "Please, act like I raised you." Because I have
raised him. But often in other environments, he acts like he wasn't
raised right at all. Yes, all parents say that but seriously... I work
in foster care and at times, my son acts no different than them who were
older than he was when he was plucked out of the dysfunctional
environment that he was in even though they are older and their
experiences were much more traumatic. I understand the brain stuff and
the trauma stuff but still, we are going on 7 years and sometimes the
progress seems so... disappointing. Sometimes, I think outside of the
box when it comes to getting my point across with him. Sometimes, that's
the only way that he will listen. He may not heed it later but he will
at least listen. So, I turned the tables and acted like I didn't raise
him. I asked him what made him my son and he showed me a lot of things.
My signature on his homework, his clothes, etc. I told him that none of
it meant that I was his mom and he was my son. Everything that he said, I
turned back on him. Boy was he frustrated. He kept telling me that he
was my son and it hurt his feelings that I was acting as if he wasn't
mine. He then became incredibly dramatic and I had a hard time not
laughing but I held it together as he delivered a performance so
dramatic he should have won an Emmy. I then told him that kids act like
their parents. Not all the time, but kids act like their parents. No,
they are not perfect and they mess up but they still act like their
parents. Growing up we knew who had the "good" parents. The "good" kids.
We weren't allowed to hang out with the rough kids. Their parents
didn't raise them right. We weren't allowed to spend the night although
they could come to our house. We were quizzed on what is appropriate and
what was not. We said please and thank you and my sister and I took
great pride in parents commenting on our fine manners. Sure we were
hellions at home but in public? Perfect angels because we wanted to live
to be adults and death by parents knocking us into next week was not
that appealing.
I talked to my son about that
phrase again today. God told the Israelites the same thing. Please act
like I raised you. Don't do stupid things and get yourselves in sticky
situations that I will have to give you consequences for. Don't ruin my
reputation with your actions. Take responsibility. Love one another and
love others. Act like I raised you. I don't want to be angry with you
all the time. You are dear to me and I want everyone to see that.
Of
course I am paraphrasing but you get the point. Jesus told his
followers and those who were in the crowd that a person could do the
right things and go through the motions but it didn't mean anything if
they didn't make the choice to belong to God. Yes, God chose them but
they also had to choose God. In that same vein, I chose Joshua...
actually I chose God who chose Joshua and I chose to be obedient... I
love him and am trying to set an example of what love looks like by
pointing him to God. But in any adoption, the choice is two fold. The
parent chooses the child but the child has to decide to choose the
parent. Joshua is mine because I chose him. I am raising him and I want
the best for him. But he has the choice whether he is going to act like a
loved child or whether he is going to act like an orphan. I can't make
that choice for him. This is what I told him. I will always choose him
but he has to choose me as well. This is the crux of the plow for me. I
have a 50 pound alabaster plow. What God showed me is that parenthood is
a big giant loud obnoxious screaming plow. YAY!
OK not so much
yay as back to the original thought (boy did that take a while). I am a
pessimistic optimist. I hope for the best. I pray for the best for
Joshua. I pray that this time, he will take what I said and apply it.
That he will choose to use his powers for good instead of evil. That he
will act like I raised him. But at the same time, I know that it's not
going to happen right away. I have to accept that. I cannot change him. I
can only guide him. I have faith that God doesn't waste a thing. God is
a miracle worker and I have a miracle that needs to be worked. I mean,
for goodness sake two out of his three names means salvation (Joshua
Christian). God has much planned for my adventurous boy. Until then, I
will toil behind the plow. The growth is slow but it is there. It just
is growing really really slowly but at least it's growing.
No comments:
Post a Comment