It`s Always In Two`s

If something happens, it will happen again. Stuff happens in TWO`s -- first one shoe drops, the the other. How`s that for a theory?

Take Big Son`s headaches -- he had one last week, so I should have known to expect a repeat performance this week. I`m not calling this one a migraine, though. They don`t seem to be as long-lasting and intense as his migraines were, and he seems to be eating almost normally, instead of throwing up. So from now on, I`m calling them "tension headaches." And this had better be the last one, for a while.

Alas, I can`t directly blame Huggy Nun for headache number TWO. Yesterday, she cornered me to tell me that Big Son has seemed a little better this week.

I had been trying to lie low and avoid her for a while -- that old Japanese strategy of "avoidance" comes in mighty handy sometimes. Usually, I can hear her sneaking up on me, because even though she wears soft-soled old lady shoes, the giant rosary beads on her belt clack together when she walks. But I had just thought it was my own aging knees cracking, so I surprised when she tapped me on the shoulder.

"He`s been so much better," she said. "He behaved very well, and did all of his work. I just wish he would show more effort all of the time." She then launched into a tirade about how he`s just not trying, and all his problems are due to his attitude. I was amazed -- she delivered the same speech on a good day as she does on a bad day. Perhaps she just needed to vent a little? Or maybe her tape loop got stuck? I nodded, and said, "Yes, Sister. Thank you, Sister," in the appropriate places, and got away as quickly as I could.

But then later that night at home, I asked Big Son to study his vocabulary and spelling words, and said I would quiz him on them after he was through (he prefers doing it this way, rather than memorizing the words together). An hour later, he hadn`t studied them at all, and we had an argument that ended with him crying and me bellowing at him. I`m a yeller, but have made an exceptional effort to keep it in check since we moved here. Last night, though, we were both very tired after going to Daughter`s basketball practice, and I should have seen it all coming.

I didn`t yell anything outrageous -- it was along the lines of, "WHY didn`t you study? Why is the still TV on, when I told you to turn it off? WHY didn`t you learn your words? GO TO BED!" But I think my volume and tone indicated that I am a totally inappropriate candidate for homeschooling. I personally think that screaming at a kid can do even more damage than hitting him, and I feel much worse after yelling at my kids than I ever did after the few times I swatted them on the butts when they were younger.

A short while later, I went to say goodnight, and I said, "I`m sorry I got so mad. That was wrong," and he said, "I`m sorry I didn`t study my words." And that was that, but then this morning he woke up, and said his head hurt when he stood up. So I figured that this time it was stress from me, not from Huggy Nun.

But we really have to cut this out, you know?

I`m sure Big Son isn`t faking it, because he loves TV more than life itself, and can`t bear to watch it when he has a headache. But he has to learn to control these physical manifestations of stress. He`s got to learn to relax. When I was growing up, I knew kids who would get so worked up over events, both good and bad, that they would throw up or spike high fevers almost on cue. My son will NOT be one of those kids!

More TWO`s....

I woke up in a waterbed in the middle of the night, even though I sleep in a futon. Little Son, who recently stopped wearing a pull-up at night, evidently had too much milk before bedtime, and released an amazing amout of pee into my bed -- perhaps equivalent to his body weight. How is this possible? Even more amazing -- Little Son had done the same thing the night before, proving my TWO theory.

Last night, God bless him, Little Son woke up, too, and said, "PAPA! OSHIKO!" (which means, "pee pee" in Japanese). So Mama pretended to remain asleep, while Papa got up to get Little Son some dry pajamas. Of course, this meant that he couldn`t strip off the bedding, so he just put a towel over it, and then he and Little Son went off to sleep somewhere else. But that old "avoidance" strategy worked like a charm. (UPDATED: As one of my friends pointed out in an email, you have to be a parent to consider sleeping in a damp bed full of pee to be a victory -- but the waterproof mattress pad did absorb most of it.)

One more piece of TWO theory evidence: at basketball practice yesterday, Daughter got two baskets in a row. These were two of the three baskets she has made in her entire life.

Her first one ever was last week. She turned to me and said, "Mama! Did you see that? I made a goooooooal!"

I guess I should end on that happy note -- it`s better that nocturnal urine, headaches, or nuns.