Mark is super forgetful, just like every other 11-year-old boy. He loses small innocuous things such as his tiny toy skateboards, and bigger, more expensive things such as his iPod. In the last month alone, he lost his phone, his glucose meter and his carb count sheet for lunch.
All of this would be merely annoying, except for the fact that the stuff he's losing are medical necessities. I wouldn't trust Mark with my car keys or wallet, but I send him to school every day with expensive medical devices and instructions on how to keep himself alive. (I remind myself to cut him some slack when I realize no other kids have such huge responsibilities!)
I was discussing this with my brother Smed, who listened sympathetically. Smed then turned to Mark and said, "You know what we did to guys in the army who lost their stuff? We tied their equipment--ALL THEIR EQUIPMENT--to them with a rope. They learned not to forget their stuff after that."
That freaked Mark out. He knows Uncle Smed doesn't tell stories like that just because. Ever since then, Mark's had nightmares of Uncle Smed tying him up with a rope and all of his devices.
"He wouldn't really do that," I reassured Mark, although to be honest, he probably would. (Mark knows Smed's not a man of idle threats.) But still, it's a really funny picture to imagine (for me, anyway, not for Mark).
But yesterday, as I sent Mark off to class, I realized maybe I'm not all that different from Uncle Smed.
All of this would be merely annoying, except for the fact that the stuff he's losing are medical necessities. I wouldn't trust Mark with my car keys or wallet, but I send him to school every day with expensive medical devices and instructions on how to keep himself alive. (I remind myself to cut him some slack when I realize no other kids have such huge responsibilities!)
I was discussing this with my brother Smed, who listened sympathetically. Smed then turned to Mark and said, "You know what we did to guys in the army who lost their stuff? We tied their equipment--ALL THEIR EQUIPMENT--to them with a rope. They learned not to forget their stuff after that."
That freaked Mark out. He knows Uncle Smed doesn't tell stories like that just because. Ever since then, Mark's had nightmares of Uncle Smed tying him up with a rope and all of his devices.
"He wouldn't really do that," I reassured Mark, although to be honest, he probably would. (Mark knows Smed's not a man of idle threats.) But still, it's a really funny picture to imagine (for me, anyway, not for Mark).
But yesterday, as I sent Mark off to class, I realized maybe I'm not all that different from Uncle Smed.
I didn't tie a rope around Mark, but as he left, I noticed he had no fewer than four things chained or clipped to himself--an insulin pump, his meter, his wallet and his phone. His glasses were slipping off his face, and as he flipped his head around a la Justin Bieber, I warned he'd get a leash for those as well.
Sigh...I really am trying to raise my son using love, logic, and lots of family support. But I do start to worry when my discipline ideas subconsciously mirror those ideas of his uncles (Uncle Smed and Uncle Sam).
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