Sunday, June 6, 2010

The Other Squeaky Wheel

I just blogged about the squeaky wheel that is the J Boy.  And the next day I was confronted with my own prejudice as to just who is the ungreased wheel.

On Friday (the day after operation birthday card),  I was looking forward to going to my bootcamp-ish fitness class. I've been on quite a fitness kick lately and part of that is getting my bahookey kicked at bootcamp at least a couple times a week.   Normal bootcamp classes are either early in the mornings ( I don't even consider that option) or in the evenings which conflicts either with the kids' activities, or my desire not to do anything more strenuous than make lunches and load the dishwasher.

So I hit the jackpot when I discovered a Monday/Wednesday/Friday 9 a.m. class because I can get there straight after dropping the kids at school. And I don't work Mondays or Fridays and Wednesday I work from home and I still have time to exercise.  Often some such activity happens on one of those days but I have made it at least twice a week for six weeks.

So, as I said, Friday I was looking forward to bootcamp getting my workout over with, and it dawned on me that I hadn't been to family math in Jackson's class since April.  Because I've been going to bootcamp.  Family math is where parents are invited to supervise math games in the class for about 20 minutes on Fridays.   The first few weeks I had the bootcamp vs. family math dilemma, I asked Jackson if he wanted me to come to family math and he gave me his usual "I'm okay with anything", so I took him at his word and went to develop a few long neglected muscles.

Part of my justification well thought out rationale for not attending family math was that when I go, Jackson becomes extremely intense if he gets frustrated with the game and hurls incivilities at me.  I'm pretty sure that when he's playing a math game with anyone else's parent and he momentarily thinks 6 times 7 is 45, he won't say to them venomously "that is YOUR fault".

But we are nearing the end of the school year and it dawned on me that not many family math days are remaining.  So I asked the J Boy if he wanted me to come. He gave me a familiar response.

"I'm okay with anything. You can come or not. Whatever you want is fine with me."

Sydney, in contrast to Mr.I'm-Okay-With-Anything, LOVES and I mean LOVES it when I come to her class.  I think once all year I couldn't stay for family math and it was a grave hardship she had to endure and I heard about my parental neglect for weeks.

So on Friday last, in the name of excellent parenting, I decided to grease the non squeaky wheel and pushed myself at the gym for one Friday and forewent bootcamp.

I would love to tell you it was a Hollywood ending with Jackson saying "thank you for coming to family math.  It really boosted my self-esteem and made me proud that you are my Mom. I'm pretty sure I'm going to mention this at my wedding when I thank you for all you have done for me."

No, I got an intense "you're going to pay for that" under his breath when I committed the unpardonable parental sin of suggesting he add his numbers up vertically instead of horizontally.

But I will continue to grease both squeaky and non squeaky wheels in the hopes that when my kids end up on a therapist's couch (which is a given) it won't be because they think I favoured the other one.  Or, it will be because BOTH of them think the other was favoured. Which will be evidence enough for me that I got it right.

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