I can’t think of a more fitting image for my little guy than the person with an angel on one shoulder and a little devil sitting on the other.
My 7yo is a big ball of energy, curiosity and mischief. He’s also tender-hearted (though he doesn’t want you to see it) and kind (though it sometimes gets masked by his tendency to get caught up in whatever excitement is going on around him).
We delight in his passions and in his willingness to go his own way. He makes us laugh constantly because he’s like a tiny grown-up crammed into a 7yo body. The shit he says, you wouldn’t believe. (You can see some of it by checking out the hashtag #ShitMeyerSays)
We also struggle with him. Not unlike any boy his age, he tends to get distracted by any shiny (or non-shiny) object and focusing on any one thing is a challenge. What should be 20 minutes of homework usually turns into an hour and a half. My head is 3 seconds from blowing off by the time it’s all done and there is no patience left for the rest of the day for anyone.
He also delights in his own mischievousness.
And before you get started, I know, I know. He learned it by watching me.
What it all comes down to is this: his dad and I spend quite a bit of time being frustrated that our efforts to focus him and get him to behave seem not to be met with a lot of cooperation.
We’re not talking about a level where he’s in trouble at school nor really in trouble anywhere. People don’t ask us not to bring him places. In fact, they seem to adore “Chatty McChatface.” Quite frankly, it’s hard not to adore him. But if, in fact, you live with him and are the people responsible for redirecting and correcting him all the time, well, what I said before about my head blowing off.
Yesterday had its ups and downs. I actually got him to do his chores and homework within a reasonable period of time (lesson learned: take whatever the kid loves best and offer it to him as a reward) by telling him he could choose a piece of candy from the Halloween bowl if everything was wrapped up in 30 minutes. But then, at his Scouts meeting last night, he went off the rails and misbehaved pretty badly. I can’t say exactly what he did, but I know that my husband looked like an active volcano when they walked back through the door. Goodness knows, I know that look.
He had a talk with Meyer about the whole thing, and I could tell that he felt bad about misbehaving. But they moved through it and Gabe went upstairs to read with him.
Later, Meyer sheepishly appeared back downstairs. Gabe was working in the bedroom and after hearing Meyer messing around in the kitchen past his bedtime, he came to check on him. In his little hand, Meyer had an orange sticky note on which he’d written, “Be good.”
Turns out, he thought it would be helpful if he woke up and saw the note next to his bed and could start off his morning with a reminder. Aaaand then our hearts melted.
It makes me stop and think about how much he wants to be good and how much he wants to please us, even as he’s dealing with that vocal, relentless little devil on his left shoulder all the time. I have to remember, the angel is also there. She’s just often overshadowed by that flashy, loud, obnoxious devil. I know. I have one too.
I’m gonna take a page out of Meyer’s book and put a note next to MY bed that says, “Be good.” As a mom, and a wife and a friend and just … a person, I could use a reminder to do a little better every day too.
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