My son would be mortified if he knew I was telling this story, but I’m going to tell it anyway. The daily whine from the media, and their stories of Cohen have become white noise. We’re waiting for something bigger to happen. Need a distraction? Here we go.
No matter our career, politics, or station in life, our most important job is as a Mom or Dad (after wife or husband). Being a parent is tough and there are a million ways to fail – on a daily basis. Kids don’t come with a manual. Gosh, I was wholly unprepared and motherhood was a humbling experience. That said, we altered our life so I could “work at home”. Can’t think of one mom or dad who wished they spent LESS time with their kids. Yet, children are also a challenge and continually test our limits. We often capitulate to a child’s whims to avoid public embarrassment, or because we are busy, or because we want to “be their friend”….., which leads to children testing the limit of acceptable behavior. I was a big fan of limits.
Well, Gunner hit my ‘limit’ in 4th grade. It was a Tuesday night. We read a book and I put him to bed. When I went to tuck him in and give him a kiss on the forehead, he told me, “I hate school and don’t ever want to go back.” He had never said anything like that before and it was completely out of character for him. It was like he announced he just murdered the neighbor. Inconceivable. I didn’t react at all. I said, “Okay, honey”, kissed his forehead, and off to slumberland he went. Checking in, ten minutes later, he was sleeping like an angel.
Back in the kitchen, I was cleaning up and stewing over his words. I called his teacher who was also his piano teacher, no problems. I called his best friend’s mom, no problems. Please understand, he was an exemplary student, no bullying. He wasn’t running guns or drugs. He was fine. We had an enormous project going on in the backyard, tiling the pool, building fireplaces, a garage, lots of men here, and every morning he would grumble about missing the activity at the house. School was boring. I suspected he felt like he was missing out on our fun – which was really more like hard work. I thought, “I’m going to fix his attitude right now!” Can’t have a kid who does not want to go to school or fakes an illness to stay home. I hatched an idea.
Phase 1, Lay the groundwork – The next morning, I let him sleep until 8:30am. He woke up, realized he was late for school, and shot out of bed like a bullet. I was in the next room, my office, patiently waiting to spring my trap. I asked him what was wrong at school and why he reacted so badly, not wanting to go back. As I figured, he wanted to take off a few days. No, school was his “job”, but I was fighting gorgeous weather and a bored little boy with spring fever.
Speaking to him like he was a business associate, I told him I seriously considered his words last night. I respected his wishes, as “You would never make such a grand statement about your future without thinking it through……” I told him, “I talked to your father and admit, we are disappointed. We hoped you would attend college, yet many children do not.” We would love him no matter what his chosen career. I told him I called his principal, Mr. Jackson (whom I adored), and related your decision to DROP OUT of school.” He went wide-eyed and began to protest, but I pressed on. I also told him, “We are worried about your ability to get a job, but YOU are LUCKY, since we both own businesses we can help you.” I asked him to get dressed, put on work clothes – no breakfast that day.
I got through it without cracking a smile. Phase 1 complete. I wish you could have seen the look on his face. He stammered and objected a little bit but I kept talking. He was just young enough for me to still keep my bluff up.
He tiptoed into the kitchen, apprehensive, but ready and dressed. I put my hand on his shoulder (like he was a man) and walked him to the backyard. Our lot is 600′ deep, so it’s a long way out there. As we were walking I explained how Dad and I were going to help him launch his career. I spoke with Mr. Dave, who had a crew tiling the pool. Dave agreed to accept him as an apprentice because he was “big for his age”. I continued, if it didn’t work out with Dave, and he was FIRED, Mr. Ismail the mason, had a crew who was installing 140 tons of fieldstone for gardens and Mr. Ismail said he could use him to haul rock. Finally, if it didn’t work out with Ismail, the plumber, Jody and his crew, could use him to help dig.
About halfway down the backyard, he started crying and apologizing. I stopped but I didn’t touch him (which I desperately wanted to do). I told him he needed to stop crying, because construction crews are always brutal to the new guy……. and….. if you show up and you’re crying, it will be even worse. He swallowed the tears.
We walked to the shop and made out a timecard for him. I explained his pay schedule and the concept of taxes and Social Security. “You mean I have to pay for all this?”, he said. Oh yes, son, you do. We walked to the back, where the men were working, and I formally introduced him to Dave and his crew. Of course, I already talked to Dave, his wife, and men, earlier in the morning. Everyone was in on the plan except Gunner. I wished him luck. Instead of running/working with the crews, I left and went back to the house….. and I cried the whole way.
Phase Two, hit a snag – I called Dave’s wife about halfway through the morning. Apparently, Gunner was a fabulous employee. She LOVED him. He was hauling 50lb bags of mortar and doing well pushing a wheelbarrow. She said, “He listens so well, I only have to tell him what to do one time. He’s the best ‘second’ out here.” I said, “Nonononoo…. He’s supposed to be miserable.” She said, “Well, good luck with that.” I was frustrated. The weather was beautiful, and he was outside instead of sitting in school. He was having fun with the men, feeling like he was part of the team. I tried to focus on my work and give my plan until lunchtime to work.
The men broke for lunch at 11:00am and Dave’s wife called me. The men invited Gunner to go to lunch, downtown, with the rest of the crews. He refused and told Dave’s wife, “Surely, mom will be ‘over this experiment’ by lunchtime.” He was mocking me. Dave’s wife said, “That little squirt thinks YOU will give in!” I thought, “Oh yeah?” It was time to double down. I was thinking about what to do when she told me Gunner was headed into the house for Spaghetti-O’s and Grandma’s applesauce, his favorite lunch.
Phase Three – Gunner bellied up to the kitchen table and I treated him like he was a husband home for lunch. I was the spider, drawing him into my web. He was different now, and a ‘grown man’. I made his lunch and presented him with a bill for his food. “What!!!!”, he said, “You’re going to charge me for my lunch?” I nodded and got out a legal pad. I explained his budget, how much he made, our mortgage/utilities/food/insurance, etc., and what his share would be. I subtracted all of his expenses and circled a number at the bottom to show him what he would be left with AFTER taxes and household expenses.
He was furious and hurt at the same time. “Throwing me out of the family”, he protested. I explained it was a great sacrifice for us while he went to school, but school was his job. If he wasn’t going to do his job in school, then he had to contribute. He gobbled down his last meatball and spouted something about “I would rather sleep in the car than pay a mortgage.”, got up, walked out of the back door, slamming it as he left. Phase 3 complete.
He sat on the edge of the pool and waited for the men to come back from lunch and he must have sat there for a long time. That afternoon, Dave’s wife said he was quieter. The sun came out and it was hotter. He was sweating but doing well, holding his own. Normally, I worked alongside the men. All day long I was fielding calls from the men for decisions, but I could not go back there and keep a straight face. He had to be on his own and out of my control. Not a time for mom. This was a job for men.
Phase 4 failure – About 2:00pm, I got a call from Dave’s wife. She called my cell from the shop was bragging about Gunner. She was teaching him how to use a tile saw, and “understood how to leave the line, cut on the line, take the line” almost as well as she did”. That way they could operate two saws with the other men in the pool and work faster. I thought, “OMG, this is not working the way I envisioned.”, although I was happy he was doing well. Now what? Of course, I want my son to learn construction, but I don’t need a 10yr old tile cutter.
Somehow, I had to make him WANT to go back to school.
Phase 5 – About 2:30pm, I strolled to the back and pulled Gunner off the crew. I had an idea that if I made him see his future, he might change his mind. I took him to the bank to open his checking account and arrange for direct deposit. Of course, we both knew all the women at the bank. He plopped down in a club chair and melted into the leather, in front of Pam, who opens accounts. Pam was happy to see him and commented on what he was doing out of school today. “Oh, I quit school!”, he said, “I’m a working man now.” Pam shot me a look and I gave her a grin. “Well, it certainly does agree with you”, she said. “Bad comment, Pam”, I thought, but I did take a hard look at my son. He was rosy-cheeked and a little bit sun-kissed. Damn, he looked like he just stepped out of a Ralph Lauren advertisement. She filled out the forms, he signed them. She shook his hand, welcomed him as a new customer, gave him a tour of the safety deposit boxes, gave him a folder with necessary info, a ceremonial pen….. and two red suckers….. his favorite. Oh, the irony.
Next stop, I took him to our guy who handles our investments. We opened an IRA for his retirement. That was a rude awakening for Gunner. Retirement planning cut into the money he thought he was going to spend. LONG lecture from the financial planner about his future —- without me in the room. Phase 5 was a win, but he is a stubborn boy.
That night, he ate like a grown football player, took a bath and he grabbed a pillow and blanket to go sleep in the car. I told you, he’s a stubborn one. Wonder where he gets it? At the doorway, he shouted to me, “I guess I’m too old to read a book, huh Mom?” He was a little boy trying to fight me like a big man. I got up and met him at the back door. I told him that I knew the day was hard but I was proud of him. I moved to kiss him goodnight and he backed away. I said, “We’re just a little worried about your future, but you’ve made your decision.” He walked out the back door, in his pajamas, but I left the lock open. He wandered around for a little while, outside, but by the time I turned off the lights in my office, he was in back in bed. I tucked him him in and kissed him on the forehead. He snuggled into the covers, “yeah-h-h-h”, he whimpered as he drifted off.
Phase 6 – The next day, he was up early, as the men come in at 6:30am. They brought him a chicken & biscuit, and he grabbed a pair of gloves and a band-aid for a blister. He had almost accepted his fate. Husband and I were busy that day. We were very involved in Gunner’s school, and Friday was a party we previously agreed to sponsor. I explained to Gunner it wasn’t fair for the other kids to miss out on a party, just because he DROPPED OUT of school! It was an awards party for reading books. Gunner was #1 in his grade and the party was for the top 25 in 1st – 6th grade. I asked him if he wanted me to bring home his trophy. Tough love.
All day long we moved things for the party. The men helped me unload a popcorn machine and the DJ equipment and run them over to the school. Of course, Gunner was part of the crew, setting up for a party where he would have been honored. Principal Jackson caught Gunner and shook his hand (he was in on the plan and great) and wished him “well in life”. Later on in the day, the snow cone vendor arrived and we had to go back to the school and unload again. Many trips back and forth as we shuttled supplies and decorations. Gunner was beginning to turn…… He wanted to go to the party. He saw friends on the playground and fought back tears in the delivery truck.
Phase 7 Capitulation – That night, Gunner ate like a horse. He was exhausted and sported several blisters on his hands and feet. He took a LONG shower and a bath. I went in to his room to kiss him goodnight but he appeared to be asleep. I headed to my office for the overnight correspondence with China. He got out of bed and came into my office, “to have a conference with me about his future”. I listened and it all came pouring out. He cried and begged to go back to school, “But I WANT to go to college!” and “I don’t want to join the Navy!”. I stifled a chuckle, several of the men were Navy vets and had talked to him about joining the Navy when he was old enough. Odd that later on in life he would apply to the Naval Academy…. and use two of them as a reference.
All throughout the process, everytime he objected, I reminded him it was he who made the decision and his words and decisions have consequences. “You can’t make wild claims and say crazy things without expecting people to take you seriously.”, I said. He understood. We agreed he should go back to school but it was HIS decision. “You didn’t cash out my college fund, did you mom?”, he wanted to know. “No son, not yet…..”, I replied. He wanted me to read to him. I laid down to read and he spooned me. He was back to being a little boy instead of a “working man”.
Finale, the Reward!! – The party at school went FAR better than planned. The DJ we hired was exceptionally good. Husband and I were surprised he was so talented. Everyone danced and partied, lots of Conga lines. It was so much fun all the students from all classes were turned loose to party and play. Gunner was accepted back with ‘rockstar’ status. It was as if he had been in prison, or on some great adventure to a distant land (working with the men). He proudly showed off his blisters as battle scars to impress other boys, and especially the girls. His friends wanted to know every detail of his journey. His teachers giggled but understood everything we did. Some asked me, “Can I send you a few more to straighten out?”
That kid didn’t miss a day of school for years. And he still has his IRA.
Don’t ever try to run a bluff on a mom.