Have you ever noticed that when you complain about something that YOU become the bad guy? Here is a perfect example. We have lived in our neighborhood for over a decade. There are some people who rarely disciplined their son as he was growing up and he always seemed to be in some sort of trouble since he was in about the third grade. He was a rather big boy and was a well-known bully. (He had apparently been expelled from several different schools for behavioral reasons.) We have two sons, the older of the two is the around the same age as the bully. Our younger son is three and a half years younger. The boy would always come over and want to play and the boys, as well as some of the younger neighborhood kids, would be be reluctant, but after some encouragement, would let him stay. One day the boy took something the belonged to my younger son. The older son tried to retrieve it from the boy, but he ran home and closed the door. Later when the younger son came crying to me about this toy, the boys and I walkedwent to their house and I let the kids tell the boy's parents what had happened. The father left the room and could be heard yelling at the boy. Soon, the child emerged with the toy, handed it to my son and said, "I'm sorry". I thanked the parents and apologized for having to come over this way. I thought nothing more of it. Then a year later, two days before Christmas, I was in the kitchen and heard an awful loud crashing noise in the front of the house. I ran to the front door and looked through the peephole. In the darkened shadows of the neighbors' yard, I saw a boy with something in his hands, run in front of their house. I opened the door to have a better look and the storm door crashed back on me. It was completely shattered. The noise I heard had been the door being shattered to bits. At that point, I forgot that I had opened the door to see who and where the boy had gone. It was cold and I hurriedly swept up as much of the glass as I could. The neighbor came out of his house and after watching me work for a few minutes asked me what had happened. I told him that I was not sure, but recounted the story of the noise and the boy, whomever he was, running across his yard. I asked if he had seen anything and he said that he hadn't. I found several BBs in the pile of glass that night. The next morning, in the light of day, it was apparent that there had been an assault on our house. There were two windows on the front of the house that had tiny holes in them. After closer inspection of the rooms, several BBs were found and there were several BBs found lodged outside in the trim around my younger son's window. When I saw the neighbor the next day, I mentioned all that I had found and asked him if would keep his eyes open and let me know if he heard any of the kids talking about it. He said that he would. Several weeks passed and one day, another neighborhood boy mentioned that the neighbor's son had bragged to him about "bombing" somebody's house with BBs. I let the neighbor know what I had heard and he denied that his son could have ever done it. I told him that I wasn't accusing him, just telling him what I had heard. But that if his son did do it, he should know. Then he mumbled something about not paying for the door and he walked inside. (MORE LATER....)
I am not perfect, but I do try to do my best.
I try to "warn" people when I feel a situation or task does not lend itself
to my best. (Such as baking a beautiful cake. They may taste
yummy, but are not particularly attractive to see.) This is
all leading somewhere...(even though I am sure you had your doubts..)
What is it with people and their "I don't care"
attitudes? Does no one find pride in doing one's best? Do people
not have a sense of pride in what they create/say/how they act, etc?
What happened to doing the
right thing just because it is the right thing?
I have two sons. Both of whom I love very, very much. I was terribly shaken by the tragic school shooting in Littleton, Colorado and in other towns. My younger son and I have talked in great detail about this event. We have no answers, but we both agree that parents and kids must talk to one another. One day, my younger son called me, at work, from another boy's house, wanting to spend the night there. I refused, telling him that I did not know the child or his parents and he could not stay there. A co-worker made the statement that she did stuff like that all the time when she was in high school. (She is in her early twenties.) She suggested that I should not get upset about that and let him stay. I tried to explain that when she became a parent that she would understand why I make decisions like that. When I picked up my son from his friend's house, both he and the boy walked out and apologized for not going about it in the correct way. The boy told me that his mom would have done the same thing. My son understood why I refused to let him stay with someone I did not know. I think this is a perfect example of how parents and children should and must keep things honest and open with each other.
Hug your kids. Tell them you love them and for goodness sake, keep asking them what's happening in their lives.
What do you think? I hope to gather
my thoughts and present different ideas here.
Tell
me what you think....
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