It's Looking Better

In the interest of not alarming my poor readers... I should let you know I'm not nearly as depressed as the last two or three posts sounded. God is helping me deal with each of the three "bombs" that went off in my life last week. And maybe some of the pregnancy hormones are starting to calm down, too. Not sure. I really have no idea how long they're in your system after a miscarriage. All I know is... I'm doing better. Still having to take it easy (IE: feeling completely useless), but PC and BB are taking good care of me. Yes! Even BB! He's been really surprising me at the way he's stepping up to the plate lately. He's showing a more serious and thoughtful side with all the unexpected stuff going on, has been helping out in new ways, and has been unusually careful and gentle with me. Even the hugs I'm getting (which are even more frequent than normal - and I get a lot of hugs from him even on normal days) are different. A little longer, and decidedly gentle. The other day I was fretting a little about PC going back to work tomorrow, and I told BB that since I'm still fairly shaky on my feet in moments, that I would need him to help me out by letting me hang onto his arm if we have to go anywhere without dad. He looked very serious and said "okay" and I've been noticing that he's more... aware??... that I'm a bit unsteady on my feet still. Moving a tad slower when he's near me, and... watching?? to make sure I'm okay. On one hand it makes me feel a little bad. But on the other... well, it's nice to see the thoughtfulness and the care he's taking. And maybe this is good preparation for when he has a wife someday. Perhaps he's learning to be more gentle and careful with people weaker or smaller than himself. And that would be a good thing. And the shaky thing is slowly going away. I notice it most when I've been on my feet too long. Which hasn't been much, considering the way PC glares at me when he thinks I'm overdoing it. ;-) 

It's nice to be loved.

It's Near a Crash

Three life-altering bombs being dropped on me in the space of six days is just a bit too much.

I don't think I've ever been so close to having a mental breakdown. I know I need help. I just don't know who to talk to. Have a call in to the man who did our pre-marriage counseling. Even if he doesn't have time to meet with me soon, I hope he'll be able to give me a referral to a professional who might be able to help me sort through things. 

I realize I'm known for holding things together even when things are falling apart. But I can't hold it together any more. And I don't mean some sort of emotional melt down where I can't stop crying. I mean something way beyond that.

And because of the nature of two of those bombs that were dropped on me, I can't even blog about them. All you need to know for now is... I desperately need God's help, and wisdom, and strength.

My mom and dad and PC know everything going on. And one friend. Who, thank God, is local-ish. But since one of those bombs involves her family, too... well, I'm not sure if I should be thankful to have a close friend who does know what's going on, or be completely humiliated that she does. *sigh* So far beyond coping that it's not even funny.

Hugs and chocolate don't fix some things. Some things can't be fixed. Except, I suppose, by God Himself. But I'll be honest... I'm questioning if even He can fix some things. Yeah, I know. I know that's bad. But it's...

where I'm at.

It's Horrifying

It's such a horrifying thing to go through labor, and not have a baby to hold at the end of it.

It's Terrifying - Or WAS

The short version is: I miscarried last Saturday.

If you want the long version, keep reading.

A couple months ago I had suspected I could be pregnant, mainly due to the fact that one morning I took a sip of my coffee and went "Ew, yuck!" That seemed really strange, since I generally really enjoy coffee... and also since I had heard a couple stories from women whose first clue they were pregnant was the "Ew, yuck!" factor when sipping their coffee. But I brushed the thought aside, because what with dealing with all the weird abdomen issues for months, and being on that anti-inflammatory diet, and various other stresses... well, I just ignored it. Looking back, I'm seeing that I ignored a lot of things I should have paid more attention to. But at the time, it just seemed like with all the stress and well, just STUFF, I was dealing with, there seemed to be explanations or reasons for all kinds of things. Now I wish I had paid more attention. Not that I could have changed one thing, but still. It leaves me with a really weird feeling. Especially knowing that I was taking medication at the time that pregnant women aren't supposed to take. I'm fighting the feeling that I aborted my own baby. I know with my head that I didn't, but still, the niggling feeling is there.

Last Friday we had a lovely relaxing day. Which I now believe God gave to me as a special gift, knowing what I would be facing the next evening.

Saturday morning I woke up with a huge amount of energy, felt better than I have in weeks. Okay, months. I figured it was from finally being able to be out in the sunshine and all. Now I realize it was the "nesting instinct" kicking in before my body went into labor. In any case, I tackled all kinds of projects that day. Extra loads of laundry, cleaning, cooking, etc. Things beyond what my energy levels this year have typically allowed. (Memo to self: DO NOT get halfway involved in ten projects next time the nesting instinct kicks in. Just do one thing at a time, and complete it!)

That afternoon about 3:30 or so I started cramping. Didn't really think anything of it at first, because, after all, my whole body has been messed up this year. But it quickly started becoming much, much worse. By the time 4:30 rolled around, I was in the worst pain I've ever had in my life. The weird thing was, it seemed like the severe pains were getting closer and closer together, almost like what I'd always imagined it would be like during contractions. CONTRACTIONS?!?!?! And it hit me like a ton of bricks EXACTLY what was happening. And I knew I had been pregnant. And I knew my baby was gone. And I knew my body was trying to get rid of it.

I couldn't breathe right from the pain, and started hyperventilating. I called my mom and asked her to pray for me, told her I was having severe pain and couldn't breathe right. (It seems dumb now that I didn't tell her precisely what was happening, but I think I was so far into shock by this point that I wasn't thinking clearly.) She said she'd come. Since they live about 20 minutes away it felt like it took forever until I heard her and my sister at the door. Here is when I started seeing God's timing on things. When mama walked in, I was in the middle of the worst contraction yet and was hyperventilating so badly that my hands and feet were drawing up like a stroke victim's. And I realized with horror that if she hadn't walked in just then and called 911 for me, I would have been completely incapable of calling them myself.

The EMT's were fabulous. They let my sister ride with me in the ambulance, and even made me laugh on the way to the hospital, in spite of the severe pain.

PC was still at work while all this was going on, and no one could get a hold of him until he got off work shortly after 6pm. (Yay for jobs where you can't answer your phone. I've always had a fear that if I really needed to get a hold of him during the day that I wouldn't be able to.) 

To be honest, I didn't even need the doctor to tell me what his verdict was. I already knew. But even so, it still was a shock to hear in the same sentence that yes, I had been pregnant, and no, I wasn't now.

They couldn't tell me how far along I was. I wish they could have. But my hunch is that I was pregnant about 2 1/2  or 3 mo. ago, that the baby died very soon, and that my body has been trying to expel it ever since.

We were finally able to go home around 11pm. All I wanted to do was go lie down in my own bed, have PC hold me, and fall asleep. 

Here again, I see the way God worked out the timing for me. PC was off work on both Sunday and Monday, so he was able to stay with me and take care of me. And my mom offered to keep the boys, so we had two days just the two of us. And in spite of feeling like I'd been run over by a truck, and wishing it could have been under other circumstances, I did really enjoy being able to have him to myself for two day. Just being together was lovely. And no pressure to have to do or say anything.

I've had an absolute outpouring of love expressed in the last few days, from phone calls and texts, to emails and Facebook messages, to all kinds of offers to help. 

I hope I NEVER have to face something similar again. But it's nice to know what wonderful family and friends I am surrounded by when the bad times hit.

It's Lovely

God has funny ways of answering prayers. Today was PC's day off, and the four of us took off for an adventure. We packed a picnic lunch and drove to one of my favorite parks outside of town that has forest, stream/river, and trails. The weather was absolutely perfect. No, seriously, it was perfect. We drove to the back side of the park, ate lunch in the middle of the trees, then ditched the lunch remains in the trunk of the car and took off down the trail. Stopped for a while where there was a bench (for me and PC - we must be getting old or something), a shallow area for LM to wade (I was sure he was going to fall in and have to ride home soaking wet, but he didn't), and room for BB to wander a little (but he didn't - as usual he wanted to stay right beside us to talk. And talk. And talk. But that was okay, 'cause everything else was quiet. And to be honest, I tuned him out for quite a while and just let PC deal with answering/responding). 

Sitting near a river just listening to the rapids and the wind in the trees has always been the best therapy ever for me (second only to the waves at the ocean), so today was amazingly peaceful and relaxing. 

Thankful. :-)

And to the readers who wrote to tell me they were praying I'd get a day off soon - thank you! I really needed a peaceful day like today. Thanks for praying, so I could have it. :-)

It's When I Feel Like a Nanny

With how disengaged PC has been lately, and with how isolated I am with him having the car most days, I finally told him that I honestly just feel like the nanny. What I don't know is... if this is something that I need to address in my own head, or if there is something I/we need to be doing to help that feeling go away. Last week when one of my best friends drove an hour or so just to come spend the day with me, it was SO lovely to be able to just chat with another adult. To share stories. To share concerns. To give (and get) a hug. But that was one day out of dozens when I'm staring at the same four walls closing in on me, when I'm answering the same questions about fractions or rounding or decimals, when I'm hearing the same (stupid) jokes over and over again. I'm tired of trying to force a smile or laugh at the same. exact. things. every. day. I'm tired of feeling distanced from my own husband. I'm tired of feeling like the nanny. Who never, ever, gets a day or an evening off.

We haven't gone on a date in... probably four or five months. And with all the additional stress lately, I really need him. But he's dealing with his own stuff, and can't be there for me. I get that. I understand that both of us are so wrapped up in our own things we're dealing with that neither one of us is really giving the other one what they need. I have really tried to be there for him - to listen when he needs to talk - to be quiet when he wants to just think or do nothing at all. And I see him trying to be there for me, too - holding me, letting me talk - asking about the family situations currently going on. But somehow neither one of us is really getting what we need. I don't know how to fix that. I've done everything I know to do.

I'm tired of feeling stuck. And right at this moment, all I can think of is how lovely it would be to run away for a little while. To go sit in the sand at the beach, to wade in the tide pools, to drink coffee and watch the fog roll in, to not say one. single. word. to anyone. To just be. And maybe cry my eyes out.

The stress is closing in. The walls are closing in.

And while I did admit to PC that I feel like the nanny - not his wife - I can't tell him the rest of it. Not the part about wanting to run away and escape it all for a while. Because his ex used the words "running away" to mean something entirely different. And last time I inadvertently said I was going to "run away to the grocery store to pick up a couple things", it sent him into a really, really horrible flashback. We both ended up in tears. Not good.

But that doesn't make my own need go away. And something's got to change, or I'm going to snap. 

Please, God, get me out of here. If only for a few hours. Even a full-time nanny needs an afternoon off now and then.


Edited to add:

Ya know... maybe my hormones really ARE out of whack. 'Cause I don't seem able to cope with normal life stuff just now.

It's a Place With No words

Sometimes the place where I'm at has no words. Lately it's been that way a lot. Or perhaps it's not that there aren't words... it might be that there are too many. And sorting through them to find the ones worth keeping is challenging. Either way, blogging about some things is difficult. But tonight I'm going to try to find the words. There might not be many. Or there might end up being too many. We shall see.

The thing is, the stress load ballooned again. Hugely. Here are a few of the highlights of the "why":

- A good friend in a neighboring town was in and out of the ER last week.

- One of my best friends is due to have a baby any day and is having some complications.

- It looks like my little Nana may be going home to heaven soon.

- PC's job has about three (huge) elements of stress going on right now. One of which is sexual harassment from a female co-worker.

- Several people in my family are dealing with ongoing health issues that no one in the medical field seems to be able to do anything about.

- My own health issues are still here.

- All the drama and pain and questions surrounding biomom's grand idea of having the boys for the summer.

- The financial thing... well, let's just not even go there for now.

- The behavior issues with BB, which you already read about here.

- Other stuff that I can't really talk about even on an anonymous blog.

Honestly, I feel very alone right now. And helpless. Even PC hasn't been able to "be there" for me much lately. Oh, he tries. And he does sweet things like bring me hot tea in the evening when he's home. Or give me a hug when I need one - when he's around. But that's just it... with mandatory overtime going on for the last three weeks straight, we haven't really spent much time together. And when he IS home, he's not really home. 'Cause he's carrying his own stresses right now. And seems to be finding it very difficult to engage with either me or the boys lately. I see him making efforts. But I think he's as lost in the fog as I am right now.

The other night he pulled me close in a big hug and said that the storm could rage around us, but we weren't going to let it come between us. Which was very sweet, and I agree whole-heartedly. But even so, I don't feel very connected to him right now. It seems like every single time we make plans to try to have some couple time (even if it's just leaving the house for an hour to grab coffee somewhere) something happens that prevents it. That, or he forgets, or just plain doesn't feel like going out. Sometimes I'm not sure which it is. And I refuse to turn into one of those nagging, emotionally needy, clinging sort of wives that we all despise. So I don't bring it up. But I miss him. I miss chatting. I miss laughing. I miss walking. I miss just BEING with him.

And that whole scenario leaves me often feeling like I'm facing all the other stresses alone. The parenting stuff. The financial stuff. The grieving stuff.

Sometimes I just want to escape. If only for a couple of hours. A couple of hours where all the problems would disappear. All the stress would leave. And I could enjoy the sunshine again. The quietness. The peaceful joy. The rushing river. The breeze in the trees. The birds chirping. That all seems like such a far off dream. I think it's been about three years since I've been able to go on a hike. That's shocking to me. But I can't remember any hikes more recent than that. For a gal who is refreshed, renewed, re-energized by nature... well, it's no wonder I feel on the border of insanity.

The few stresses that I listed at the beginning of this post each have their own (big) story. Each one deserves an entire blog post all its own. But that's where I run out of words. And where my brain has stopped processing. There's too much going on for me to handle. And I don't know how to deal with it.

Earlier today a dear friend called me from another state. Just to chat. To check in with me. I tried to briefly tell her about these things. I didn't want to dwell on them. But I knew she wanted to know about what was really going on in my life. So I gave her the nutshell versions, and tried to not even go into the emotions attached to each one of them. But she heard through it anyway. I got a text message from her after we hung up, saying that she was concerned because of the stress she heard in my voice. Really? And here I thought I was hiding it pretty well. She asked if there was someone local I could leave my kids with, if only for a couple of hours so I could have some alone time to regroup. (The only gal I could think of who might is the gal whose husband was in and out of ER last week. And there's no way I'm adding to her stresses. Hers are even bigger than my own.) The next few text messages from my friend made something click in my own head. I've been holding it together. I thought. I've been trying to "be there" for everyone. And I guess I've mostly succeeded. But my friend called me on it. She recognized that the volcano is going to erupt if I don't find an outlet soon. And what shook me up is... she's right. She's absolutely right. I thought I was holding it together well. But maybe holding it together isn't a good thing sometimes. It suddenly clicked that while I've been trying to "be there" for everyone else, and hold in the tears, and keep a smile on my face, and make people laugh, and keep encouraging everyone around me who is discouraged... it suddenly clicked that

I'M NOT OKAY.

I'm grieving.

I'm hurting.

I'm lonely.

I'm scared.

I'm confused.

But mostly... I'M NOT OKAY.

It took a friend to make me realize the lie I've been telling everyone - including myself. I'm thankful she gave me a wake-up call and challenged me on it. (Gently, but still, it was a challenge.) Because I don't want to be a volcano that erupts all over everyone I love most. Volcanoes are destructive. And somehow I have got to find a way to deal with the stress right now without spewing everywhere. I don't really know how. But I figured the first thing was to be honest with myself - and you.

So now you know.

One more thing: 
What time I am afraid... or anxious... or worried... or unsure... or intimidated... or bewildered... or in pain... or sad... or helpless... I will put my trust, my confidence, my hope in God.

And now you know that, too.

It's Not Bad - It's Just Different

I think I'm finally coming to realize that, contrary to popular opinion, I am NOT an extrovert. Matter of fact, the older I get, the more I realize just how introverted I really am. I crave alone time. No, I mean I seriously crave it. Maybe that's one of the reasons I enjoyed my freight job as a single gal so much. I could go off the floor, disappear into my "cave", and work at my own pace - fast or slow, and play my own music - or be completely silent, drink tea all by myself, hum, ponder, twirl, sit, tip my head to one side to look at something invisible from a new angle... and not have to worry about anyone seeing me, or talking to me, or asking me questions, or... being in my space.

Don't get me wrong. I love my family and friends. I even love spending time with them. But I like to spend time with them when and how (and for how long) that I want to see them. Perhaps that makes me selfish to some degree. But I am increasingly finding that when I spend too much time around people (especially people that like to talk a lot) I grow anxious, depressed, angry, uptight, tense, sad, and few dozen other negative things.

I used to think something was wrong with me when we would go to celebrate Christmas or Thanksgiving with my dad's family. It felt like there were people, people, people everywhere. Constant chatter. Banging and crashing from the kitchen. Loud voices. Laughter. Crying from kids. Just - noise. Too much of it. And I would go on overload, and want to go hide in a little corner where no one would exclaim over how big I had grown, or ask me questions about what I wanted to be when I grew up, or rope me into washing dishes in the middle of the frenzy of the kitchen, of babysit all the noisy little cousins. It wasn't that I disliked the extended family. (Okay, so I maybe didn't like ALL of them.) But I found that if I could disappear for a while when I started feeling that horrid overwhelmed thing coming on, that I could come back a half hour later ready to chat and laugh and be part of things again. At least until the next wave of overload hit.

As the years went by, I tried to force myself to be more outgoing, to pretend I loved being around crowds of people, loved the hustle and bustle of big cities (after all, my mom did, so that must mean I should too). I forced myself to learn how to go introduce myself to random strangers, to wear a smile and act interested - even when I wasn't. But the minute I could get away from the noise and crowd, I would go hide in my bedroom all by myself. And read a book. Or just sit. And think.

I'm sure there are some things about being introvert that indicate selfishness. And maybe I need to work on that. But I'm also finding that being a stepmom can be horridly challenging for an introvert. Sometimes I don't WANT to talk to PC and LM. Sometimes I don't feel like being with them. Or playing. Or interacting. Or reading to them. Or... well... much of anything. Sometimes I just want to go hide.

I'm attempting to find ways to bring my stress levels down when the introvert thing rears its head. I've discovered that disappearing to my bedroom for twenty or thirty minutes is hugely helpful on some days. But I can't do that every day. I've discovered that if I can distract the boys with an audio theater episode or book on CD, that my coping is helped. Because even if there is noise from the story (even chaotic noise) it is still better than having to force myself to interact with them, engage in a conversation I don't want to be having, keep a smile on my face when I'm gritting my teeth, or find myself answering them impatiently. A couple of friends recommended that I institute a "quiet hour" in the afternoon, where no one is allowed to talk. But I don't know if that would be good or bad at this point. With all the efforts I've made to teach them that it's okay to talk to adults, I'm a bit afraid that if I institute a "quiet hour" that I'll be causing a relapse that will undo all the work I've done so far.

That whole "children should be seen and not heard" thing is just plain stupid. There is a time to be quiet, yes, but there is also a time to interact. Unfortunately, the adults they were primarily with in the past taught them to be silent - all the time. And as a consequence, they were incapable of holding a normal conversation when I "acquired" them. They seemed to think that no one wanted to hear what they had to say, no one wanted to hear their thoughts or opinions or questions. That adults just wanted to be left alone and not have any interaction with children. So their only real conversations were with each other. Or their dad. But mostly with each other. In near whispers. All day long. Yeah, like I said. It was stupid. But it's what they had been taught. I'm very grateful for a few individuals in my life who have loved my boys exactly where they were at, who didn't question my boys mental faculties just because they were a bit slow with social settings and normal conversations, and who have spent the last year or so trying to draw them out and engage them in conversation. There are several people that I wish I could name right now. People who have made a difference for my boys. Because that's not something that PC and I could change by ourselves. There is an elderly man at church, who wasn't put off by BB's staring and silence when he was asked a question - and who kept trying - until BB is now finally chatting and smiling with him. There is an elderly woman who passes candy to them during church, with a wink and a smile, and doesn't demand a thank-you - and has been celebrating with us at every single small victory along the way. They adore her. There's the next door neighbor (a retired school teacher) who continues to chat and give books and hire LM for small jobs. There are several good friends of mine that have cheerfully tolerated "odd" behavior while my boys were (okay, ARE) learning to hold normal conversations, and interact in social settings. Have I mentioned I love these people? I love them a lot. I love that they love my boys. I love that they are willing to come into the "mess" and help us through it. Help us grow. And yet love us and accept us all - right where we are in the moment. 

I didn't mean to explain quite that much tonight. But all of that is tied up in my discoveries about my own tendencies to be introverted. And in all of my juggling between my own needs and the boys' needs.

Okay, I'm admitting right now - I have NO idea what I'm doing. I don't know how to handle these things. I don't know how to meet the boys needs, and yet not ignore my own. 

I need wisdom. And I do know Who gives that. So I'll just keep praying about it all.

It's When I Feel Inadequate

We've been having significant behavior issues with BB lately. I'm not sure if it's a knee-jerk reaction to the possibility of spending the summer with his mom (did I forgot to tell you about that lovely drama??), or what the deal is. But it's been getting worse. And unfortunately, with PC working so much overtime lately I'm the one who primarily has to deal with it. 

The two main problems (which are tied up in knots with each other) are passive aggression and just plain ignoring instructions and/or assignments. NOT. O. KAY.

The passive aggressive stuff is ongoing, about everything (I do mean everything), all day, every day. And while that may be a bit of an exaggeration, it's not too far off. I'm drained from dealing with it. It's the constant wearing, constant feeling of battle, constant wariness - because I don't know where or when or how the next episode will show up, nor whom it will be aimed at. LM isn't intimidated by it (which is good), but for the sake of being a peacemaker (a good thing) he gives in to BB far too often (a bad thing).

But the ignoring instructions and assignments thing... *rips hair out*... I will NOT allow this to continue. It's going to stop. NOW.

I had briefly mentioned in this post that he'd neglected to do a school assignment - just because he didn't want to do it. (The only excuse he could seem to come up with was that it was difficult and so he'd given up. Needless to say, that didn't fly well here. PC wanted to know why he hadn't asked for clarification or help on the assignment, and he had no answer at all.)

Well, it happened again. More accurately, it's happened multiple times. But usually it's been small things, and because our schedule has honestly been crazy this year, I've tried to extend grace and not be too uptight about it. (I've neglected things I should have done too, just because of the schedule we're keeping.) I know it's difficult to juggle everything. It is for all of us. But it is quickly becoming apparent that he CAN find time to do anything he WANTS to do. And that certain assignments (particularly if it involves memorization and/or writing) he will just plain NOT DO if he doesn't feel like doing it. Like I said... NOT. O. KAY.

So. Wednesday night when we picked PC up from work (right before church) I briefly whispered to him (where BB couldn't hear) that we had yet another issue along the same lines as before, and that the three of us needed to have a chat together after church. I had thought about trying to just address it myself, but BB is getting way too big for his britches, and I felt like I needed PC's support and help on this one. 

I had a lot to say to BB that night. Here are a few of the main things:

-Disobedience is inexcusable

-I've tried to keep homeschooling fun, as much as I can - even to the point of allowing them to choose certain topics to study

-He is taking advantage of the options I do give him, and if the behavior does not stop immediately, I will start running school like a military school

PC had a lot to say to him, too. But the main idea was:

-Assignments are not optional

-He WILL do the assignments I give him, and he WILL do them by the time they are due

We had some questions too:

-Why did he not do the assignment? ("I don't know.") 

-What did he think the result was going to be - since we obviously would find out eventually, and obviously wouldn't just ignore it or let it go? ("What's happening right now.")

-What did he think a fair consequence would be? (*blank look* I figured the consequence would be chatting about it - what we're doing now.")

-Uhhh... you figured the consequence would be TALKING about it? Sorry. This is just chatting about the issue with you. What do you think the CONSEQUENCE should be? (He couldn't come up with any answer at all.)

Since he couldn't come up with one thing that he thought would be a reasonable consequence, and (as PC put it) make up for his poor choices in wasting both his time and my time as his teacher, we told him that we would come up with a fitting consequence and let him know what it would be.

That's the hard part. Every child responds differently to different consequences. I already knew that assigning extra writing assignments or extra kitchen cleanup wouldn't solve a thing. He'd hurry through it, do a sloppy job, and that would be the end of that. With no behavior change. Grounding wouldn't work. I have to force him to go outside and get fresh air as it is. Taking away privileges wouldn't really work. It's not like he carries a cell phone or uses an ipod. I knew we had to come up with something that had "teeth" in it - something that would be very distasteful to him - something very unpleasant. I told PC that under the circumstances, since BB had chosen to waste my time as his teacher, that I felt like a fitting consequence would be something to, in a sense, redeem time for me. He agreed. But what?

We finally settled on something. BB would clean the bathroom. From top to bottom. 

In some random conversation about household chores a few weeks back, he had let it be known that he despised the thought of cleaning bathrooms, and that he never wanted to do it.

BINGO.

So. After completing his full load of schoolwork today, he cleaned the bathroom. From top to bottom. (You should have seen the faces he made and the twitches of his nose. But he didn't say one word of complaining out loud.) And he also did the incomplete assignment. From start to finish. (Something he had originally had an entire week to work on.) Needless to say, he didn't get much free time today.

However, his attitude this afternoon has been immensely improved. Maybe we're onto something here. And maybe I've been too "nice" about things, and am going to have to get tougher. I don't want to get mean or harsh. But apparently I'm going to have to do SOMEthing different. Because this behavior is going change. Starting now.