The Circus
What do you know... Seth played a GAME!! With puzzles. Taking turns. Uh-mazing!
Previous to this weekend, getting Seth to play a game and/or build things would usually mean 5 - 10 minutes of play/build, frustration setting in, throwing of said puzzle pieces. He would leave the area, play, come back, try again, throw things, leave.... you get the cycle.
We played this puzzle game for over an hour on Sunday. Not a single tear, not a single piece hurled across the room. It was wonderful. We even got to talk about words and letters and sounds.
It was the single greatest afternoon with that boy in a very long time.
That being said, the gap now between the boys is so evident. Poor JP. He just couldn't hold it together and he would get so mad when things didn't go his way. He needed a lot of help, lots of re-directing. Without Seth there to sort of push the envelope or escalate he was able to come back "down" but it was really hard for him.
Its like he never seems to really have FUN. Right when the fun should really happen, something will go wrong and it sets him off. You get to a point where "quiet" means "good." And that just doesn't seem right to me. But honestly, if he isn't screaming or crying you think "Well, at least he's behaving and not foaming at the mouth." All of a sudden you have set the bar pretty low for what a good day is. And that's really not the point is it?
You know, this whole mom thing is like walking through a three-ring circus with a blindfold on at times. You end up groping around for the right path and sometimes the most peaceful one is awfully tempting to follow. The problem is, you don't go to a circus for the quiet. You go for the clowns, the lions and the bicycle riding bears. You go for the trapeze artists. You don't have a family to enjoy downtime, you have a family because you sort of like unexpected turns and that dizzying tight rope walk that is parenthood. Sometimes, you need to march right into the madness and get knocked around a few times before you find your place, that safe zone between the nets and the crowds. That corner where the cotton candy is in reach, the spotlight is on and the show is about to begin. From your little boxed in place, you can join in on the madness and shut it out when its too much.
That's mothering. Jumping in and jumping out of the crazy world we live in and understanding how much of each is okay. And every now and then, you push the limits just to test them long enough to see if you're still on the right track. It isn't for the faint of the heart. It isn't for the selfish or the squeamish. And the good ones will often question if they should have ever jumped in in the first place.
Previous to this weekend, getting Seth to play a game and/or build things would usually mean 5 - 10 minutes of play/build, frustration setting in, throwing of said puzzle pieces. He would leave the area, play, come back, try again, throw things, leave.... you get the cycle.
We played this puzzle game for over an hour on Sunday. Not a single tear, not a single piece hurled across the room. It was wonderful. We even got to talk about words and letters and sounds.
It was the single greatest afternoon with that boy in a very long time.
That being said, the gap now between the boys is so evident. Poor JP. He just couldn't hold it together and he would get so mad when things didn't go his way. He needed a lot of help, lots of re-directing. Without Seth there to sort of push the envelope or escalate he was able to come back "down" but it was really hard for him.
Its like he never seems to really have FUN. Right when the fun should really happen, something will go wrong and it sets him off. You get to a point where "quiet" means "good." And that just doesn't seem right to me. But honestly, if he isn't screaming or crying you think "Well, at least he's behaving and not foaming at the mouth." All of a sudden you have set the bar pretty low for what a good day is. And that's really not the point is it?
You know, this whole mom thing is like walking through a three-ring circus with a blindfold on at times. You end up groping around for the right path and sometimes the most peaceful one is awfully tempting to follow. The problem is, you don't go to a circus for the quiet. You go for the clowns, the lions and the bicycle riding bears. You go for the trapeze artists. You don't have a family to enjoy downtime, you have a family because you sort of like unexpected turns and that dizzying tight rope walk that is parenthood. Sometimes, you need to march right into the madness and get knocked around a few times before you find your place, that safe zone between the nets and the crowds. That corner where the cotton candy is in reach, the spotlight is on and the show is about to begin. From your little boxed in place, you can join in on the madness and shut it out when its too much.
That's mothering. Jumping in and jumping out of the crazy world we live in and understanding how much of each is okay. And every now and then, you push the limits just to test them long enough to see if you're still on the right track. It isn't for the faint of the heart. It isn't for the selfish or the squeamish. And the good ones will often question if they should have ever jumped in in the first place.
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