We have a wood stove in our house. I've probably mentioned it before. I actually credit the wood stove with preventing me from feeling the low-level anxiety and depression that I used to feel for much of the winter. Somehow, a fire helps to keep that at bay.
But wood stoves are a good bit of work, and we don't even go out and chop wood ourselves. We have it delivered to our driveway...but then it has to be stacked in the woodshed. And that's where the trouble starts. For some reason this brings out a lot of unreasonable behavior in the younger two boys. They have trouble working together, and fight instead. But to be honest, the mere thought of having to stack the wood sends them into a tailspin.
We had wood delivered on Friday. I explained then that sometime over the weekend, it would have to be stacked. Some kind of storm will be here Monday...though (thank God! -- and I really mean that) it looks mostly like just a cold rain. Nothing happened with the wood stacking on Saturday. Everyone was happy to be lazy, and Son1 had his girlfriend over all day. So this morning when I got up, I announced to the younger two that they should expect to be stacking wood this afternoon (their older brother wasn't up yet, or I would have told him too). They went over the edge in about a second flat. Son2 announced: "I hate the wood, I hate the stove, and I hate this house." Okie dokie. "Go to your room," was my response, because a certain someone has an ongoing problem with gratitude and perspective and complaining. I knew he was lucky that his dad wasn't up yet to hear that announcement. Things would have gone way worse for him. Indeed. When I told the husband what Son2 said, his response was, "If I were my dad, he'd have to sleep in the garage tonight. Then he'd be thankful for the wood stove and any roof over his head." Yup. He was not an easy dad to grow up with.
Somehow there's nothing like chores to bring out the lectures around here. Son3 said, "I hate the work that has to be done again and again."
WHAT? "Umm, that's all work, kid. The grocery shopping, the vacuuming, mowing the lawn, and going to work. It all has to be done again and again. That's called life. And when you grow up, are you really going to complain every day that you have to go to work? Get a grip," I said.
How is it that they don't understand this yet?
5 comments:
I love your writing, Nina...and I think learning that lesson is ongoing...and I, too, think a fire helps keep the darker moments at bay. Glad you have one.
haha. It's the things that get undone again... I don't remember being so bothered by the things that you have to keep on doing, at that early of an age, but it sure can wear on me now. But that might be because of all of the pairs of hands that multiply the work. Or maybe I didn't have enough chores when I was younger.
Perspective is such a hard thing to teach. Sometimes I think a night in the garage wouldn't be the worst thing... figuratively speaking (maybe). I have 5 kids this weekend, and I think by the end of it, I will be really glad for the fact that I have 3. Teenagers, though, I don't know what I'm going to do! I guess there's a reason they start out tiny, and helpless, and cute.
They don't understand because we are too easy on them for them to learn it. Our kids grow up with an entitlement mentality, where work is the realm and responsibility of adults, not kids. To their mind, the realm of kids is play, and anything that intrudes on that is to be fought.
I think my response would have been like, "You can feel what you feel, as long as you get the work done. But if you make it emotionally burdensome on me by complaining and spewing words of ingratitude, then I am going to give you more of my work to make up for it."
Or maybe I just feel mean because I am ill. ;-)
My dad used to say that perseverance was doing what you have to do when you have to do it whether you like it or not. I do have to repeat that to myself often and sadly you will often here me say such things as,"I just did the dishes and they are piled up again". I JUST CLEANED THAT TABLE OFF AND NOW IT IS PILED WITH STUFF"." Sometimes I tell the cats to either stop pooping or learn how to clean out their own litter box.
Mike tries to explain the concept of having to do things over and over and I just say," But I don't want to". I still do it. I think that is what is important.
Jess, thanks! I love your writing too. Always fun to read AND eloquent.
Emily, nothing like more kids to make you appreciate the ones you have. : ) And yes, more about things get undone...
Peaj, I'm sorry you're sick. Of course that makes you cranky. And you're right...kids do have some weird sense of entitlement to play and free time.
Merry. Ugh. The litter box. It would be an awesome development if the cats could clean it themselves. If yours learn, then perhaps they could come over and teach ours.
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