Goin' In (the finale)

The next morning I wake the kids, feed them breakfast, and tell Griffin to get his shoes on.

"I don't need any shoes.  I'm not going to school," he argues.

This little red flag induces me to warn, "Right, but you're going to need your shoes 'cause you're going to work like you've never worked before."  In my mind, I know this day is going to have to hurt or I could be digging myself a huge hole.  "While you're at school, I have all kinds of work to do.  If you're not going to do your job, then you will have to help me do mine." 

Let the slave driving begin.

From 8:30 am until noon we do all my jobs and them some without stopping.  He washes the car mats, makes beds, helps with the laundry, cleans toilets, dusts, washes counters, washes windows, weeds, waters flowers and trees, vacuums, and mows the lawn.  And because he is only six, I work right alongside him.  Now most days I work hard, but this day?  This day makes me tired.  But Griffin?  He works like a maniac and doesn't complain once.

And that's when I get a little insight into my boy.  I think if it were the 1800's and we were homesteading somewhere in the Midwest, this kid would rock.  He belongs outdoors, sweaty and busy.  But this is 2010, and now we only sweat in our off times. 

At noon we break for lunch, and then it's on to schoolwork.  Because it is a half day at school, the teacher doesn't have a lot to send home, but not to be deterred in my evil plan of torture, I cull through the workbooks I have in the closet and pull out worksheets that supplement what they are working on in class.  I don't tell them they weren't part of his teacher's packet.  To be even that more torturous, I insist he practice his penmanship which is atrocious.  Overall, I find that he is a good sport.  Unlike my oldest, this one actually listens to me, and I realize that--if I had to--I could probably homeschool him.  And then I wonder if maybe that isn't what's best for him right now...except that he needs people like everyone else needs air...oh, why is parenting so complex?  Why is it that we must search so hard for the answers?

In the end, I still don't know what the right answer is for my boy, so I ask his opinion. At some point during these two days at home I asked him again what he meant when he said that he didn't feel "ready."  And I said that if, in fact, he didn't feel ready for first grade there were three options I could think of and that I would be okay with any of them (and that really was the truth.)  "Son, if you don't feel ready, the first option would be to do kindergarten again.  There wouldn't be anything wrong with that, and then you could review all of the stuff you need to know and feel more ready next year."  Griffin didn't like that idea.  "Okay...the second option is that I could teach you at home."  Admittedly I held my breath on this one, but if that's what it came to, I could do it.  Gratefully he shook his head on that one as well.  "Alright then, the third option is that you go back to school and do what it is that you need to do to be successful in first grade, which means obeying the rules."  He thought it over and agreed that he wanted to go back to school.

Once that decision was made, however, he also thought he should be able to go to soccer practice later that evening, and I was tempted.  Sorely tempted.  Because the real truth is, I don't enjoy taking things away from my kiddos.  In fact, I would rather give them everything, including soccer practice.  Ultimately, though, what I really want to give them is character, and that is something worth fighting for.

I am beginning to realize that there is no easy solution, no overnight success kit in raising kids.  No.  The answers come through a process.  I wish I could report that Griffin went back to school the next day and was a brand new child, but that wouldn't be the truth. The truth is, he has had good days and bad, but he is trying.  He is learning, growing, attempting, and sometimes failing, but more often succeeding, too.

The process of change is written slowly, in bursts and spurts two steps forward and one step back, I think.  And it's not just the goin' in that counts, it's the quiet resolve to see it through.  It's the willingness to patiently stick with it, even on the step back days.  It's not getting discouraged, or at least not remaining there.  It's celebrating the small victories.  It's not just goin' in...it's stayin' in until the very end.