He's a sweet loving polite little 8year old.
People always comment on how awesome he is it's because he is pretty awesome.
I read a couple books but once he just started to grow it became about learning to survive through experience versus reading about survival methods.
Parenthood is a two person job. Single parenthood is a multiple person job.
We've done it since the beginning, just me and my boy. We've had lots of fun bonding crazy moments along with our share of challenging days.
We've both turned out quite alright.
I'm quick to be very modest when people compliment me on his awesomeness, I swear he was packaged with it and handed to me exactly that way.
I'm still learning about myself and juggling with packing lunch and what will our dinner will look like the rest of the week.
Life is hard enough without so many outside influences jacking up your plans.
Enter the fidget spinner.
Those damn fidget spinners.
They came out of nowhere and overnight every child knew about them and stores were fully stocked leaving most of us parents who thought we were cool out in the cold.
I would say we've owned at least 5 spinners.
At 5 bucks a piece that's not so bad but the fancy onces do exist.
I purchased one or two of them for the kid. He bought one or two with his own money. Grandma also fell into the fidget trap and bought a couple upon request.
School drama with trading these things quickly got out of hand.
An afterschool teacher explained to me that after a trade they realized the goods were stolen and had to return to its rightful owner leaving the kid empty handed with the short end of the stick. I left it alone and walked away. A PE teacher confiscating one that cost three times the normal ones only to misplace it and never return it finally made me put my foot down.
I would not buy anymore fidget spinners.
Why do we feel so guilty when we try to lay some rules down.
After what I thought was a perfect morning matinee and breakfast date with the kid, we walked in one of those phone accessories places to replace the screen protector on my phone.
I laid down my warning stronger than ever:
"We are not buying anything, I'm finally replacing this screen on my phone and that's all".
His reply: "Ok, I'm just gonna look"
20 minutes later I'm rethinking buying a nit 5 dollar, not 10 dollar but a 20 dollar fidget spinner.
What is wrong with me.
He was so excited.
His face lit up.
There were so many stupid spinners to choose from.
So many he had "always wanted".
I held my ground and said no.
I felt bad.
I watched another mom adamantly tell her daughter that she had 2 and she wasn't getting another.
Why didn't she hesitate or feel bad.
We stepped out of the store empty handed and tears flowed down the awesome kids face.
Then I got angry and couldn't believe he would cry over a damn fidget spinner.
We walked away one of us in tears and the other in guilt.
I paid for my parking and drove two blocks away and found a street parking space to soak in my guilt.
I tried explaining to him why he couldn't have it while he tried explaining why he wanted it.
He remembered he had 20 dollars in his wallet at home and wanted to buy one with his money. I agreed that he could reimburse me when we got home.
Happy kid.
Happy momma.
Happy life.
One week later, we are still proud owners of a 20 dollar metal golden spinner.
He also held his end of the bargain and handed me the 20, in a busy mommy moment I told him to put it in a jar in the kitchen table.
In my mind he would earn it back.
He received good comments at school and I told him I'd like to see the same for the entire week. My guilt was still alive and well for taking his little folded up 20 he saved in his wallet.
Fast forward, the 20 in the jar is gone.
Poof!
Like it was never even there.
While outside of the house I casually ask him if he took it and he said no.
Strike one.
A few days later post weekend life when I finally get a chance to check the jar and we are both home he admits to taking the money.
Strike two.
He doesn't remember where he's put it.
And then goes on to search a general toy area. He motions he hands and tells me he put it "here" like when you bury something in the sand and can only hover over it.
I'm pissed.
Strike three.
I don't know where to begin in this stupid lesson and can only manage to tell him he needs to find it and that's all.
He spends about 20 minutes and comes up empty.
After homework he attempts again.
Then again after dinner.
He starts to cry and asks if he could pay me back on his next birthday when he gets money.
I'm still pissed.
I don't care.
But then there is that motherly sympathy I feel when he offered to give me back the money in his next birthday, the only time he knows he will get more money.
When he finally asks to go to bed, he says that this is the worst thing that has ever happened to him.
I proceed to ask him what exactly has happened to him.
He thinks it's about not being about to find the money and all he wants to do is go to sleep.
I explain a lot more to him.
I explain to him that as his parent there are choices I have to make for the both of us every single day.
I revisit the details of the day we purchase the fidget spinner and how our agreement was that he would pay for it and how it was wrong to go back on your word and then in turn take someone else's money.
I don't know what if any point got across to him.
I think he was really just tired.
I was disappointed.
Somewhere I feel like something went wrong.
I try to dissect my parenting skills this far and can't quite figure it out.
Then I remember he's 8.
He's still learning, I'm still leaning, and there never ever will be a perfect level of yelling nor will there ever be a perfect way to have a teaching conversation.
