How I Tamed My Dragon

One day, about six months ago, I got sick of the uncontrolled rage I was faced with any time things didn't go the way Creed thought they should. I didn't like the feeling in our home brought on by his fire-breathing, crazy-eyed, spit foaming, body contorting, insult flying, possessed by a demon reaction when he learned we were having, say, crunchy tacos instead of soft tacos for dinner. Or when a shower was requested of him.

So I formulated a plan in my mind and waited until the next freak-out.

The day began with a mistake of my own. I suggested to the kids that it might be fun to go canoeing later on. Oops. Any self preserving parent knows that you don't announce fun things you plan to do. You just do them. That way you avoid the endless barrage of "How much longer till we leave?" and "Is it time now?" Also, your kids will remember you as a fun, spontaneous person for whom good times just naturally unfold. And finally, you are not the source of disappointment when plans sometimes change. On this particular day, the day of the Canoe Trip that Wasn't, they all ran up to their friend's house almost before my suggestion had escaped my lips and and the afternoon was spent running in and out of our house and up and down the street until dusk. When I announced it was time for showers and pj's and toothbrushes, Creed looked at me and said with a whiny squeal in his voice, "But I thought we were going boating!"

To which I responded "You chose to spend the afternoon playing with your friend. The day is now over, we can't go canoeing. We will have to do it another time."

His transformation was instantaneous. He changed into a familiar mixture of a crazy, psychotic mythical creature and the incredible hulk . . . on steroids. In seconds he was on the couch contorting and foaming and-I kid you not-gnashing his teeth and screaming "YOU'RE SO MEAN! ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS GO BOATING! WE NEVER GET TO GO BOATING! WE NEVER DO ANYTHING FUN! YOU HATE US! I'M RUNNING AWAY!!!!!"

I grabbed my FlipCamera and recorded him.

Eventually he settled down and went to bed. Before climbing into his top bunk, he bestowed his ritual hug and kiss along with the usual "Night, mom. I love you."

He had forgotten his anger, moved on, and left me in the wake of his tantrum. As usual.

A few days later, I took him aside and I showed him the video of The World of Warcraft Kid. Creed was giggling in an I-don't-know-what-this-is,-but-I-am-fascinated kind of way, also in an I-can't-believe-my-mom-is-letting-me-watch-this kind of way. Stella and Jack joined us and right around 0:40 in the video, Stella turned to Creed and said "That kid is just like you!"

Jackpot.

Creed jerked his face toward his sister and said "He is NOT! Gosh," then jerked his head back toward the screen.

After the video, I asked Creed what he thought. We talked about what we thought that kid's family must have felt like during the tantrum. We discussed what might have been going through the kid's mind. We wondered if the kid was embarrassed afterward.

Next, I showed Creed his own personal freak out saved on my FlipCamera from a few days before and luckily he started laughing. "I AM just like that kid! Oh my gosh!"

I reassured him of my undying love for him. I told him that my love and affection for him is not based on his behavior, and that there is nothing he could ever do that would make me stop loving him. I told him I loved him before his tantrums, during his tantrums, and after his tantrums. We talked about what he felt during these episodes and about the fact that they never, ever result in him getting what he wants. We brainstormed different ways for him to express how he feels and now he actually uses them.

Our home is much more peaceful these days. We don't see nearly as many freakouts, the apologies are more spontaneous, and we don't get burned as often as we used to. He has redirected his passion.

I wish you could have seen him the other day, though. Creed overheard Stella telling me about an incident on the playground. He ran up to her and passionately said "Well, you tell SoandSo that if he doesn't start being nice to you that your THIRD GRADE big Brother is going to get him!"

He might be tame, but make no mistake, he is still A Dragon.

Sing Your Way Home

Ours is not the typically cool family. We don't put gel in our boys' hair, we enjoy playing sports but can't be bothered with the competition of league teams, we prefer each others' company to most outsiders', our couches are stained and our walls are decorated in permanent marker.

We can carry on conversations that consist solely of quotes from movies like Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Tommyboy, Happy Gilmore, Napoleon Dynamite, Rubin and Ed, Ghostbusters, The Goonies, Uncle Buck, Evolution, and Ratatouille (I spelled that right on the first try, I'm amazing.)

Speaking of spelling, we never study for spelling tests and we always get 100%.

Most of our clothes are second hand and we tend to wear white socks with our slacks and dress shoes.

We play charades, we sing, we take music lessons. We all read the same book and discuss it at the dinner table.

Some days our dinner conversation consists of soothing each others' bruised egos and hurt feelings caused by cruel, clueless classmates. More often we talk about how much fun recess was with the very same classmates. Ah, grade school, how I would never go back to you.

So here's the scene: We are attending a service and Jack is sitting next to someone who he looks up to and admires. You know the kid I'm talking about. I'm sure your kids have one or two of their own. The kid that is about year older than your kid, comes from an amazing family and has a heart of gold. If I could hand pick someone for my son to emulate, it would be this kid. Jack has a few of these boys in his life. Good, kind boys with good heads on their shoulders.

After the service, Jack tells me that Jason's* remark during the singing portion of the meeting was "Dude, quit American Idolling the songs."

Hilarious. And perhaps the most accurate description of my son's singing style I've ever heard.

I can tell his feelings are hurt and his fragile ego is bruised. Even though the mothers who were seated near him can't stop showering him with their praise for his lovely voice.

Have you ever seen About a Boy? It's entirely possible he was singing with his eyes closed.

Then he complained more loudly than usual this weekend as I turned on The Sound of Music to watch and sing along as we completed a five hour drive (no Robert in the car=I get to listen to musicals.) My boys usually complain about my affinity for the musical, but then they sometimes sing along with Mary Poppins and her Spoonful of Sugar, or Tevye and his If I Were a Rich Man, or in this case, Frauline Maria and her Do Re Mi.

Not this time. He turned his back on me and watched out the window until he fell asleep.

I was scared. Had his song been stifled? Had the accurate and witty comment from his friend permanently affected him? Admittedly, sometimes I feel tempted to reign in his voice. Is that terrible? It's a desire to protect him from inevitable comments like this from his peers. I know it would be way more cool if my kid grumpily sat on the back row in Primary and begrudgingly mumbled the words to the songs. That's what the typical ten and eleven year old boy does. Here's the thing: he learned to sing like this from me. He sings in public the way I sing in private. More importantly, though, is this: Silencing his voice is the same as silencing his joy. I won't do that.

I was afraid, this weekend, that his joy had been silenced without my help.

I was nervous as the Primary children gathered in front of the congregation to sing their Mother's Day songs.

With the first note, though, I realized that I had better be more careful about teaching him the right words and rhythms to those songs because he was pretty much singing a solo with the rest of the primary as his back up.

With head held high, mouth wide open, and a sparkle in his eye, his joy had lived to see another day.

I think that's pretty cool.

*Obviously, I changed his name. We love this kid, and his family. Even though I know that his mom will see through this thin disguise, I don't want anyone in bloggyland to make any judgments about him.