The return to our Charlotte Mason-inspired structure after a bit of a break has not been as smooth as I had hoped, even though I carefully brought things back only gradually. Flipper has decided that “children are only supposed to play” and that
he doesn’t have to do anything, not schoolwork, not cleaning his room, not helping around the house. That no other children in the world have to do anything like that. That I’m the meanest mom in the world and that I hate him. That he should be allowed to play Metallica (he listens to his CD while playing along on his electric guitar and following along with the guitar tabs book) and video games literally All Day Long.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea of unschooling and I’m actually really excited by the way he’s self-teaching himself some very interesting things on the guitar and how passionate he is about it. And his favourite video game right now is Harvest Moon, which has many great attributes about it. But it’s about balance, and about responsibility, and about self-regulation. I have learned (through repeated attempts at giving him more control) that my son has none of these qualities innately, like this is a kind of “learning disability” for him. With no structure, he simply flounders about and then becomes selfish, developing a false but powerful sense of entitlement.
He has become accustomed to a lack of stucture this past month and has been very resistant to its reintroduction. This has actually been quite surprising to me, because he had really been thriving on the Charlotte Mason schedule, cooperative and even enjoying it. But today he was having a no good, very very bad day – or should I say, yet another one – and was refusing to cooperate with anything. It really was quite as bad as he’s ever been. I really don’t feel like describing in great detail how things transpired, let’s just say they didn’t transpire at all well.
This is only the latest in a series of very bad days, and so we’re in the midst of a crackdown period right now, where he needs to learn that I do, in fact, have some authority, and that he does, in fact, have some responsibility. I’m so in love with the ideas of consensual family living, no punishments, etc, but I also have to realize that with this particular child, those ideas just do not work.
And I also recognize the flaws in a behaviourist approach to discipline… rewards and punishments may motivate behaviour changes but they do not address the underlying cause of the problems (which is most often a lack of a healthy attachment), and so any changes are impermanent and superficial.
However, there does come a point where the behaviour is so out of control and out of alignment that it has to be radically dealt with before any healthy development can happen with the attachment. When the behaviour is so self-destructive that it is next to impossible to make any kind of headway into finding (and fixing) the causes. When you just need the crutch of some kind of control so that you can start rebuilding whatever is broken.
Heaven help me, I’ve even played the school card. If he’s not interested in homeschooling anymore, then fine, he can go to school. Of course, he wants to continue staying at home, just not the schooling part of it. I have gone out of my way and broken my back to find the right balance of schooley-stuff for him, keeping it interesting and relevant and appropriate for his development and personality, finding the philosophies that work for him. It’s not like I’m insisting on a rigid, sit-down, school-at-home, textbook-heavy massive curriculum. His schedule is actually very, very, very, very light.
I sometimes just feel so fed up with his contrary attitude that I think, fine, let the school system deal with him for awhile. Maybe the ridicule of his peers, a few poor grades, a few trips to the principal’s office, and some direct experience with how much busywork kids have to do in public schools (both at school and then for homework) will turn him around and make him realize just how easy he has it at home.
Or, on the other hand, maybe it would scar him so desperately and permanently that I’d never be able to heal him.
But that’s where I’m at.
One thing that really frustrates me to no end, is that after all the fighting and arguing and then the eventual cooperation (usually after I’ve confiscated something important to him), he ends up saying “Oh, that wasn’t so bad. That was actually kind of fun. Huh. I’m sorry I argued with you, mom.”
This happens Every. Single. Time.
When, oh when will he just remember that he actually enjoys the work we do, BEFORE getting all upset about it??? Oh that will be a happy, happy day indeed.
