It's Not All Fun and Games

I'm not sure if I've mentioned that I have a blended family, a true yours, mine and ours scenario.  Long story short, I had two, he had one, and together we had two more.  Mine see their father every other weekend and whatever additional time we agree upon. Geoff only sees his daughter once a year because they moved to New Brunswick a few years ago and now the weekend visitation is rather inconvenient.  We're all together now though for the next week and a half.



Credit: Wallpoper.com



Ethan is a normally kind, caring, sensitive individual whose random hugs are both welcome and frequent.  He can brighten any moment with one of those hugs and a quick "I love you".  This description is free of embellishment so keep that wonderful thought in mind when I say that when he is mad, he is really, really mad. 

Because I have designated this the Summer of Pretend, I have had to restrict their beloved Minecraft play time.  Since Geoff is also on holidays and we are all together, we are doing a lot of family play time as well.  Yesterday we decided to head to the park.  It was hot out but we were geared up for some tag.  Some of us were anyway.  We readied ourselves and headed out.  I either forgot to do a head count or forgot Leilah was extra and we headed up the street sans Ethan (What? It happens; haven't you seen Home Alone?)

So after we arrived at the park, I turned to see Geoff heading back towards the house and was informed we'd forgotten Ethan.  Well they returned to the park and Ethan was in a huff.  At these times I often hear it's all Geoff's fault, he's mean, he's whatever.  Ethan wouldn't play.  Geoff suggested ice cream, a few blocks away, everyone was on board except Ethan.  He ran ahead and hid along the way, not entirely exasperating as he, Aaron and I were ahead of everyone else. Still. 

We got our ice cream and Ethan refused to order anything.  By this time, I'm getting a little grumpy myself as well and trying to hang onto the pleasant mood we began with for the rest of the non-grumpy kids.  The Farmer's Market was on and since we'd passed it on the way to ice cream we decided to see what they had on the way back.  Ethan, further incensed, continued to complain.  Dealing with this, we then we realized Hunter was missing. We ran to the end of the strip mall and I saw Hunter around the corner at the furthest end of that side.  Geoff caught up to him.  

"What kind of person loses their baby?" Ethan nastily commented after he'd made his way to where we were. This was the moment I voiced my absolute displeasure with Ethan's behaviour.  I've been careful when I'm telling them what they're doing is wrong or inappropriate because at some time in my past I heard that it was best to focus on the behaviour rather than the child.  It makes sense but you have to explain a lot.  And that was beyond acceptable grumpiness considering it was because we were so focused on Ethan that Hunter was able to bound away on his own. 

I'm not sure if Ethan just can't hang onto anger for long periods of time - this whole experience was only about an hour - or if his curious mind got the better of him while we waited for a watering truck to pass by on a road that is being repaved and he asked why it was watering the road.  Notice I don't think it had anything to do with my reproval of his behaviour.  In any case, the cloud lifted and Ethan was shortly himself again.

Considering I recently wrote that I don't like to commemorate the bad times, I find myself wondering if I should continue with this segment.  I'm not the embellishing sort and although good times can replace the bad, or at least diminish their place in our memories, these moments of Ethan's are difficult to deal with precisely because they are so uncommon and are therefore particularly disturbing.  Sure we work through them, whenever they arise, and maybe that is the point.  Certainly it is more enjoyable to write about the good times but we aren't perfect and I find the truth is more enjoyable than any creative fiction.

I had a different ending for this but as I went to refresh my coffee I discovered Ethan had awoken (when I turned in to the bathroom which was dark and the door ajar and found him in a semi-compromising position). "Oh! Good morning" I laughed and backed away.  He exited and gave me a hug. "Mom, how many hugs do you think we've had, ever?" he asked. "How many hugs?" I repeated  "I'm not sure. A lot." He smiled, "So far." Yep. So far.  And yesterday is but a memory while today is awaiting the creation of new ones. I guess I just hadn't enjoyed the reminder yet.