Monday, January 12, 2004
What A Day For A Daydream
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to escape to an island, or any temperate zone (I live in New England, so warmth at this time is an anathema,) or imagine being in a romantic foreign country, sitting on a stone porch in a two hundred year old chair, gazing out at lavender fields? Ever do this, and suddenly the daydream comes skidding to a stop, accompanied by the sound of a record player needle being scratched across a record? It happens because you are a parent.
Having a twelve-year old with ADHD is like having a person learning to drive. Push down on the gas, jerk forward, coast to a stop, slam on the breaks. Add in the hormonal changes, and the school pressures and you have a miniature volcano with legs.
This morning, I was checking his planner, a special book that the school gives him to write in his assignments and such. It is interesting that all of the school rules are also printed in the front of the planner, as if to counter the argument that "I didn't know that was a rule!" and there it is, accompanying him throughout the school day. And painted (with Liquid Paper, I presume) is a rogue's gallery of rap artists, beginning with 50 Cent, who is less than zero in my eyes. And there began this morning's rout and my break with the daydream.
I realize that he will do things to absolutely confound me (I was warned about these teenage years.) I realize that his goals are not my goals (they weren't when I was his age either.) I realize that being ADHD is going to produce some behavior, even bizarre, that I will never understand and neither will he. But, I long for that romantic getaway (with who, I haven't a clue,) and realize it is only a dream. The real work is in the real world, and being a parent, whether alone or not, is what we are called to do. I also realize that our influence on our children is not skin deep, but the Bible says to train them up in the way they should go, and when they are old, they will not depart from it. So, whatever positive things I am doing, I am assured that one day, he will wake up and tell me, Dad, you were right all along. Oops, another dream.
|
Having a twelve-year old with ADHD is like having a person learning to drive. Push down on the gas, jerk forward, coast to a stop, slam on the breaks. Add in the hormonal changes, and the school pressures and you have a miniature volcano with legs.
This morning, I was checking his planner, a special book that the school gives him to write in his assignments and such. It is interesting that all of the school rules are also printed in the front of the planner, as if to counter the argument that "I didn't know that was a rule!" and there it is, accompanying him throughout the school day. And painted (with Liquid Paper, I presume) is a rogue's gallery of rap artists, beginning with 50 Cent, who is less than zero in my eyes. And there began this morning's rout and my break with the daydream.
I realize that he will do things to absolutely confound me (I was warned about these teenage years.) I realize that his goals are not my goals (they weren't when I was his age either.) I realize that being ADHD is going to produce some behavior, even bizarre, that I will never understand and neither will he. But, I long for that romantic getaway (with who, I haven't a clue,) and realize it is only a dream. The real work is in the real world, and being a parent, whether alone or not, is what we are called to do. I also realize that our influence on our children is not skin deep, but the Bible says to train them up in the way they should go, and when they are old, they will not depart from it. So, whatever positive things I am doing, I am assured that one day, he will wake up and tell me, Dad, you were right all along. Oops, another dream.
|
