Pick Up the Phone

Note to readers: There will be minor profanity in this post. Please remove small children from the room. So, I get a phone message from Builder at 3:05PM. He is supposed to be at school until 4:30 at Bucket Band. He has called to say his teacher has a tooth problem and needs to go to the dentist after school. It is a stretch and I don't really believe it, but OK. This is the message:

"Mom? It's me, Builder, I don't have Bucket Band today because Mr. N. hurt his tooth or something and needs to go to the dentist or something after school. So you need to pick me up after school." That's the home line.

"Mom, It's me, Builder? Where are you? There's no band after school. You need to pick me up. Where are you? Pick up the d*#n phone!" That's my cell.

I must say, I laughed out loud when I picked up this message. For so many reasons.
1. 9 yr. old says d*#n to his Mom. 2. Can't believe I am that Mom. 3. He really doesn't see anything wrong with it. 4. He was frustrated and that is how it goes. 5. This is my life, just like I imagined. Again, laughing.

By accident, I deleted the message before I could counsel Builder on the error of his ways and laugh more that night while playing message for DH. Luckily, Builder remembered the message verbatim when asked exactly what his message said. Clearly, he still did not see a problem with his word choice.

I told him I was at the library where I could not answer my phone. He said, "Oh." I then explained succinctly, "If you ever phone me and use bad words, you should know I will not be picking you up."

"OK, I will find a ride with my friends."

Life's like this.

Calm is Cool

Remember the Seinfeld episode where George's Dad just kept yelling "Serenity Now" in an effort to control his chaotic environment and situations? I do. I have tried shouting it on numerous occasions...to no avail. The problem is you are yelling, your eyes are bugging out, and your fists are clenched. Not so cool. Not so calm. You are not in charge of anything in that moment. So, I have been working on my coolness factor. For about 25 years. I admit, I run at high most days. High energy, high activity, high emotion. I do get quite a bit done. However, running at high and dealing with another person at high idle...not so cool. Tonight, I did it, I stayed calm through episode after episode with Builder. No school means there were quadruple the incidents, in addition to the usual breakdowns and malfunctions of a day. Here are the highlights and how I handled them:

Cleaning pet cage: Tight parameters: Get it done in the next 15 minutes.
Going to movie he didn't want to go to: Direct order: You are going.
Wanting sugar snacks at movie: Statement: NO.
Not wanting to go to class Mom forgot to pay for and didn't really want him to go to: Flexible: OK, convince your Dad in a reasonable manner. Try not yelling or throwing stuff and just talking to him.
Hot spaghetti sauce accidentally spilled on him by him: Calm: "Do you need medical attention?" in response to expletives of pain and swearing at me.

He didn't need medical attention. He just needed a good cry. But he had had a long day like he does everyday- just managing daily life. Me too. By staying calm, I could wait through the fits and still be available to help him process the wrong behavior and supply the right words and actions to him.

Clean or Quarantine?

That is the question today. Put away your phones, turn off your t.v.s and stereos. Breathe. If you are like me, you also close your eyes. Why? Because there is not a space in our home not covered with a project, food wrapper, spilled sticky something or half-assembled fishing pole made of PVC. I can't bear to look at it all anymore. The only place left to have a meal is on the floor...after we kick aside the clothes and bags Builder has strewn about the home.
I can't go outside for some Zen. The grass is littered with bikes, scooters, buckets of dirt, cardboard boxes that once housed Mr. Fluffy Pants, the most recent animal caught and examined for the day. That mouse was lucky. He was released alive. Forgive me, I digress.
We are mulling the question "Should I just clean or quarantine him?" When Builder and Bounce were little, I picked up the toys. We happily reset Disney every night. I am a Fly Lady trained cleaner. Clutter begets clutter. We want shiny clean surfaces. It brings me peace and happiness. I am not asking about getting cleaning lady. That's me.
This is about how responsible do I insist Builder be about "If you make a mess clean it up." I have tried it all to instill responsibility. Consequences, big garbage bags, throwing it away. DH says I am guilty of "piling it on" Builder. Is there perhaps a mathematical formula for what percentage of his ginormous messes he should have to clean up? Do I do just pick up the left out food and clothing? Do I start making space for dining in the attic? Quarantine him to specific rooms? (Actually much harder to do than one would think)
In the picture book Love You Forever, when the boy is 9, the mother feels like she might sell him to a zoo. His manners, his appearance, and vocabulary are driving her crazy! But forever this child will be her baby. I guess it's time to reset the park. I need some shiny surfaces where I can smile.