Third Place Proud

I'll admit that I have an occasional addiction. My addiction level changes. Sometimes, I don't see my "dealer" for weeks (occasionally months). Other times, my "dealer" and I interact daily.

And I've been working at getting my Heathens hooked up with my "dealer" as well, to varying degrees of success. 

Hello, my name is Momma. And I'm a runner. And I'm pushing running on my Heathens at every opportunity I can.  And I have the full support of the Asst. Zookeeper in this endeavor. 

Heathen #2's FIRST award in running!

While my Heathens are not completely ungraceful, none of them are sprinters and I wasn't either. We are the people who are barely out of breath long after the sprinters are finished. 

Today, the Heathens were all registered for a 5K Run/Walk - as runners. We went as a family.  It's exciting and they always leave feeling they have accomplished something valuable. 

Heathen #1, who been up all night with scouts, made one mile and crawled himself to the sidelines. I wasn't surprised. While he does well with water, land kills him.  They are opposing forces. Despite his willingness to go, he has yet to cross the finish line unless it is a "fun run" that involves colored powder, down, mud, or some other element to distract him from the actual distance he is covering. 

Heathen #3 ran with us as long as his little 9.5 year old legs could go, then walked. He knew that I would continue to pass him (loop shaped course) and that as soon as I finished the race, I would find him and we would finish his race together. 

Heathen #2 is my running buddy. I let him set the pace and stayed behind him. I'll admit that, having not seen my "dealer" lately, the pace he set was a good one and I struggled to keep up with him. 

He would get a head of me and then I'd catch up because he needed to walk and catch his breath - but I never passed him the entire race.  I did a lot of loud encouragement from behind him. Not sure whether it was helpful or embarrassing - but he never told me to be quiet, so we'll go with a positive impression. 

As he rounded the last corner ahead of me, I saw him start to push hard. He was across the finish line before I even made it to the corner. He finished with a time of 28:52. Excellent for someone who does no distance running on a regular basis!

Once he went through the finishers' shoot, he was waiting to cheer me on to my own finish. And then continued to cheer on strangers. I smiled with a bit of pride 

Doubling back through the course, I located Heathen #3 at the two mile mark and we finished his last mile together. It was mostly walking but I got him to run between a set of light posts and then walk the next set, alternating. And he ran the last 100 yards (which was on an incline) to put himself through the finishers' shoot. And Heathens #1 and #2 were both cheering for him as he crossed the line. I looked at the clock as it ticked and told him to run, he wanted to cross before it changed to 52 minutes. He crossed at 51:58 - and I saw how hard he pushed to do it. Again, a grin of pride crossed my face. 

In their age group, Heathens #2 and #3 finished third and sixth, respectively. I managed third in my age group as well. 

Accepting his ribbon!

The Heathens did so well this morning. I was thrilled for everyone. We returned to the car tired but happy and feeling accomplished.  

After stopping on the way home to run a few errands, the younger two Heathens came to find me. "Can we take the dogs for a walk with you?"  We have three dogs and typically each take one. And we walk a 2.2 mile loop. 

Sure, Heathens. Get the leashes and let's go. We haven't had enough exercise yet today. And out the door we went!

Quarter-Circle Nerd

Yesterday, I wrote a post about my middle Heathen - that didn't paint either of us in a very pleasant light. We were both moody and miserable until the very end.  It reminded me of a conversation I had with the youngest Heathen a few weeks ago.

The littlest Heathen is a smart cookie and he is curiosity with feet and almost constant access to Google.  I think his current favorite phrase at the moment is, "I don't know. Hang on, I'll Google it."

Unfortunately, he doesn't always have the best social skills when it comes to keeping his intelligence from annoying certain people at school - and he's come home quite upset several times because he's been dubbed a NERD. In fourth grade, this is heavy stuff and not to be taken lightly. 

So I showed him two pictures. This is the first one. :

And I asked him if it would be very fun to play with for very long?  He said no, it doesn't do much. All the pegs are the same and they won't even go the whole way through because the floor gets in their way. I asked him what would it be like if people were like these pegs - we might be different colors and look different, but what if we were all good at the same things? He decided that was be boring, too. 

I told him that school kids - clear up through high school want everyone to be the same. To be just like them, because it helps them feel safe as part of the group. 

Then, I showed him this picture:

I told him this is our Zoo. None of us are the same. But we all have our shape and place as part of the group. I asked him to pick shapes that might describe his brothers. 

He picked the six-sided hexagon for Heathen #1 "because it looks like a gear and he likes to make things work and fix things." I agreed it was an accurate choice (and description).

He picked the heart shape for Heathen #2 "because when he cares about something, he's completely committed to it. And he's really loyal and cares about a lot of things, and that takes a big heart." Again, I agreed completely (and tried not to sniffle too loudly).

I asked him for a shape for me. And he quickly announced that I was the plus sign because I taught math. No surprises there!

What about for the Asst. Zookeeper? "What shape would Daddy be?" I asked.

He wasn't sure if the Asst. Zookeeper should be the star, since he loves to fly airplanes, or if he should be the trapezoid, because it reminded him of a tent and Daddy loves to do anything outdoors.  We decided that both would work, depending on the day and what Daddy chooses to do.

Then I asked him to pick a shape for himself. And he paused for a long time and started at the picture and I could see the wheels turning as he thought them all through as possibilities. 

He said, "I don't know what shape I am."  

And I asked him if he could only be one shape? If the Asst. Zookeeper could be either of two, couldn't he be more than one shape as well? Couldn't he be one shape on one day, then be another shape another day?  He still fit in the "family" regardless of what shape he was. 

But, I told him I was pretty sure he was our quarter-circle shape. Because it had the ability to rock on one side, or sit strongly on another. It could be part of a bigger circle or it could stand alone.  It looked like a nerd shape to me. And he grinned. "None of the other pieces can roll AND stand."

That's my nerd - figured it out that quickly. 

To my nerd Heathen (and his Heathen brothers): whatever shape you are, you will always have a place at the Zoo. You might have struggle at school or out in the "big world" to find your nitch, your slot, your opening that fits your perfectly. But you will find it. You may have to change shapes several times to find the correct one. 

Until then, keep trying on shapes, see what fits YOU the best and which makes you happy. 

There is a slot at the Zoo for any shape you choose to become.  

Tea Kettle to Progress

I've never been one to advocate screaming at children. However, I do believe that you need to raise your voice occasionally to be heard.  

Puberty and being a teen has hit our middle Heathen with the subtilty of a shovel, or maybe a 2x4. Whatever your metaphor is for "suddenly and painfully," that's how it has arrived. And it hasn't been pleasant for anyone involved. 

We've gone the "patience" route. We've given him "space."  We've given him "choices" in whether he spends time with us when his attendance is not required. We've "ignored" some behaviors in the hopes that they would disappear when they didn't get the desired reaction. As of Wednesday night, I had run out of options that I've learned over the years in working with teenagers, or in any of the psych classes I've taken. The reservoir of strategies was not only empty, but it had a dry bottom. 

Wednesday evening, after spending an hour and half straight of listening to him complain about every living thing under the sun, I escaped and went on a four mile run. It was silent bliss. 

I knew the Heathens were hungry and I decided to stop at Subway. I called the house to verify every one's standard order. Heathen #2 often thinks we choose to eat out deliberately on occasions that he chooses not to join us - I was thinking I was going to take home a sandwich and he would feel at least slightly loved and less like a miserable teenager.  

That was my "unicorn" and I was going to capture it. The sandwich I had in the car was magical. The night would be salvaged by it - the poor sandwich had no idea the expectations that I placed upon it. 

I almost made it into the house with the sandwiches for everyone before he started to complain about something new. And his favorite words to use in his complaining are "always" and "never."  Shoots my blood pressure sky high. 

And I lost it. I turned into the whistling kettle that no one will take off the burner. It just keeps going whistling. 

I stood in my kitchen and yelled at him about being so miserable to be around and that he was driving me crazy. I yelled that I realized that teenagers are supposed to be moody, but that wasn't the goal he should have set for himself. I yelled that it has been at least three days since I had heard him say anything nice to anyone, or even seen him smile. I yelled that I loved him to pieces but that I didn't want to spend time with him if all he was going to do was complain.  I repeated myself a lot because the frustration had finally reached the point of no return. 

Then I handed him his sandwich, told him to enjoy it and explained that I had specifically made a point of bringing him a sandwich in the hopes that I managed to do something right in his opinion.  That my whole goal for the sandwich was him to smile, say thank you, and enjoy his sandwich. 

Then I walked away and hid in my bedroom for 30 minutes, convinced that I had just ruined my teenager and he probably was plotting my demise.  But I knew I could not leave it like that. Neither of us could go to bed like that. I had to fix my screw-up to the best of my ability. So I tracked him through the house and found him in the living room picking at his sandwich. 

He was sitting in a chair and I sat on the floor in front of him, so that I had to look up at him. And I apologized for yelling. I told him that as an adult, I should have been able to explain the situation without yelling at him about it. Obviously, I still had flaws that I need to work on improving. 

But the yelling didn't change the fact that he'd been very unpleasant to be around lately.  He has to survive middle and high school before he can "escape" the small fish bowl where we live. And he can choose to look at the unhappy side of everything and complain constantly. Or he can choose to look at the happy side and be happier. Because, more than anything, I want to see him happy again and to hear him laugh. He has the best laugh.  And I love hearing him laugh. 

So we made a deal. I am going to work on not yelling when I get frustrated with him. Adults don't yell at each other in our Zoo and he is turning into a young adult. He is going to work on not complaining. 

Today, Heathen #2's plans did not go according to the master schedule in his head. And I admit to starting to panic because I knew there was a temper tantrum coming and I just didn't want to deal with it.  

Instead, Heathen #2 stood in the kitchen in front of me and took a big breath and let it out. And then dealt with the situation like a rational adult - calm and cool and collected. 

I told him how well he handled the situation and how proud I was of him. And while I was sorry his plans hadn't worked out, in a way, I was thrilled the plans had gone poorly just so that I got the chance to see him handle it so well. I was so proud I was trying not to cry. 

He asked if it was okay that he was angry and wanted to scream because he was so frustrated. And I said of course! You're still human. You'll still get upset. It's all in how you deal with it. And he asked for a hug. And he got one. And I needed that hug at least as much (if not more) than he did. 

So, maybe the yelling was needed to get his attention the night before. Maybe the conversation afterward would have been enough. Whichever, he chose to be happier today and I saw him smile. I saw him get along with both of the other Heathens. I'll take the calm for as long as it lasts. But he gained a small bit of maturity today. We'll take it and keep moving forward.  Well done today, Heathen. Well done.