My normal Wednesday meme host is taking a break while her daughter is home from college so I’m actually pressed to produce real, true content. Is that an oxymoron? Real… true. We watched Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close on Monday and I liked the part about oxymorons. My friend, Pete, didn’t like the movie; I asked him because he frequently teaches the book to his Literature students. I think if I’d read the book – based on what he told me – I probably wouldn’t have liked the movie’s changes either. I haven’t cried like that in a movie in quite some time. I’m talking for sustained periods of time; the movie tortured the audience in certain scenes (every answering machine scene, any mother/son scene) and I was a mess. But I’m glad we watched it. Movies like that help put your life in perspective.
I vowed not to get on Elliot so much after watching that movie. Unfortunately, he’s going through a particularly awful phase. He’s sweet one moment and “normal” and the next, he’s taunting his brother, being a little brat (Nan na na na na, you can’t get me) and saying ugly things (In reaction to “go brush your teeth” : I hate you, mom.) He’s completely irrational. Last night, he had the most unexplainable melt-down. I am not even sure I can recreate a picture for you of how he devolved into this horrible mess. Perhaps it started with the fact that the puzzle we’re working on (1,000 pieces!) was “taking too long.” You see, Elliot has always been exceptional with puzzles. Very early on he was doing larger ones while his peers couldn’t barely do a Melissa and Doug board puzzle. His teachers mentioned it too; he excels at them. However, this gave him a complex about his ability to “dominate a puzzle.” So when we tackled this new one, he was all gung-ho at first until he hit a hard part and, as is his M.O. lately, he gives up very easily. Ash and I continued to work on the border and Elliot started his melt-down. He laid on the floor of the office and complained about he wasn’t going to get the glory for doing the puzzle and yet, still wouldn’t help.
At this point, it was 8 PM so we figured he was just tired and maybe he’d had a bad day at school so I ran the bath and you’d think I’d asked him to cut his arm off with how he howled and fought. Ash and I took this all in stride and let him flail about. After his bath, he was still angry about God-knows-what and he threw a flashlight at the door, which was rope’s end for us and he did not get a book before bed. That’s when the sobbing began and he just couldn’t seem to calm down. All in all, it took about 30 minutes before he was able to speak without gulping and slobbering everywhere. I couldn’t tell you what came over him but I think he’s at a particularly emotional and thoughtful period in his life (remember, he’s just beginning to understand death in his own little almost 5 way) so perhaps he just feels overwhelmed.
This morning, he didn’t argue about getting dressed or anything. He put up a slight fuss about carrying his lunch bag to the car but I typically ignore that kind of B.S. Surprisingly, my children are one of the last aspects of my life that stress me out. I worry more about jobs and money than I do them, directly. Obviously the other two are indirectly related since they affect their lives. I believe that if you take all the kid stuff with a grain of salt and stick to your guns about the important stuff, they’ll turn out just fine. I did, Ash did, and our parents did most of that.
I don’t know the point of this post but this was the last thing I really dealt with. Aside from that it’s all work and teaching (these athletes, smh. I love ’em but they are really slacking off.) I’m hoping that all my upcoming things (tattoo, vacations, etc.) will alleviate some of my ennui about life. But probably not. All I can do is keep watching extremely emotional movies so I can experience at least a few hours of profoundness. And then, when marathon training starts, it’ll be a whole new ballgame. Training changes everything in your life. I can’t wait.