Wednesday, July 15, 2009

making your bed vs. death

Yesterday morning, Donovan was moaning and whining and ranting and railing against the act of making his bed. This is not something new - it's something he does EVERY MORNING. Lately I've found myself asking the kids, "Hey, if you whine about it, am I going to change my mind?" Dreary "no" reply. "And if you whine about it, am I happy?" Dreary "no" reply. "So maybe you could use the smart part of your brain and realize that this whining stuff is just wasting time and crapping on my mood?" More whining. Of course.

So yesterday it culminated with Donovan crying out something about wishing that I died. I'm not exactly sure what, but it involved my death that was surely the salvation from bed-making he was looking for. Sometimes I get really upset about the death threats. Yesterday, I was just annoyed. Two can play at this game. "Ok, so I'm dead. Who's going to take care of you during the day?" Daddy. "Nope - Daddy is at work." He'll come home. "Nope - he has to make the money. Who's going to feed you and do your laundry and LOVE YOU WHEN YOU GET HURT?" (nice, huh?) I'll take care of myself. "Cool - so you'll make yourself lunch today, just for a trial run?" NOOOOOOOO!

Anyway, he ended up in his room until he could come out and say something nice. That afternoon, he was up in his room playing at I decided to go out and water the garden, so I took Gemma with me and soon Ainsleigh joined us. At one point I wasn't sure if I heard him yelling, but whatever - I'm outside. If it's that important, he'll find me, right?

Upon re-entering the house after about 45 minutes, I practically ran into Donovan who was about to come into the backyard. Immediately I noticed his face was flushed and his eyes were puffy and he was agitated. I asked him about it.

"I didn't know wheh you were! I wooked and I wooked and I couldn't find you!" Well, did you look in the backyard? Whenever I can't find you and Ainsleigh, that's the first place I look.

"I wooked in duh basement and den I fought you had weft so I wooked in duh guh-woj but I saw duh car dare so den I fought a wobber took you and I juss kept saying (arms held as if to receive something, but raising/lowering the hands to accentuate each word) 'WHEH COULD SHE BE?! WHEH COULD SHE BEEEEEE?!' And I juss didn't know!" His voice quavered and broke on that last part. And so did my heart a little bit.

I pulled him into my lap and hugged him tight. "First, Donovan, I will never leave you behind. Second, no robber is going to take me." I was going to leave it at that, but couldn't resist tying this in to the morning's lesson so I asked, "Hey, how did you feel when you couldn't find me?" So sad. "Hmm. Well hey, remember how this morning you wished I was dead?" Hesitant, and sheepish head-nodding. "If that happened, then you'd never be able to find me. So it's a good thing I'm alive. Even if that means you have to make your bed. Right?" He paused for just a second to think about it (hey, the guy has to weigh his options, right?) and then nodded. Awesome teaching moment.

Last of the Idaho pictures:

Ainsleigh and her tree

Digging the planting hole

Working hard (or, hardly working)

Donovan digs his hole

Or maybe just let Grandpa do it

Check out that root system

the "motor" as Dono called it
(not sure what he's doing with his face, though)

All of us

4 comments:

laura said...

Awwwwwwwwwwwwww. Little duuuuude!

wanda said...

When we called to make the final arrangements for David to pick us up at SFO, he asked if we wouldn't like to stay on vacation another week. Pretty much the equivalent to wishing I was dead....

Nataluscious said...

I have the exact same conversation with my kids (about whining. about how it never gets them anywhere). It's very hard to reason with young children. I am all about reason. There seems to be a disconnect.

Lisa said...

Once I couldn't find my mom when I was younger, and, convinced that someone murdered and stashed her, started looking everywhere. When they found me I was looking in the kitchen cabinets.