So there I was early last evening chatting with a parent friend who was looking for a job—and there was my 11-year-old son, horsing around with a small group of boys and girls in the lobby of our Hebrew School—before we all we said our good nights and returned to our homes. He seemed to be in such a good mood! I feel for him, for me, for the whole universe of children and parents who upend good moments like these with a few devastating words about what’s for dinner.
With my son, lately, I find it really hard to reliably forecast which everyday disappointments and frustrations will accelerate into despair, and which he’ll meet with patience and restraint. The good news, I think, is that there is an increasing undercurrent of knowing better, whether that translates into acting better or not.
Last night was a late pick-up; and he was supposed to have eaten dinner (or something) at the Temple. He didn’t, or, if he did, it wasn’t enough.
“What’s for dinner? Adam asked, the second we’re alone and walking home.
“Those great pesto and spinach raviolis you always devour.”
A big sad face.
“Can I have something else?”
My wife and I have long established that we are not our children’s chef-servants, but I saw some reason for wiggle room.
“You forgot your lunch. You must be starving. Why don’t you just eat your lunch for dinner?”
The sad face just got a lot sadder.
That was the beginning of an hour-long face-off, in which he claimed that he was upset about something that happened at school that day, and thus wasn’t in the mood to eat; and I wondered aloud whether it was still all about him balking at the offerings. Unclear. But ultimately, he joined my daughter and me for the raviolis, and certainly ate his fair share.
It’s a big year for Adam. He’s beginning middle school, he’s talking with girls, he has more errands at home—he’s being asked to step up a bit on every front.
When he loses his shit, I’m trying to help him out by trying harder than ever not to lose mine.
I even gave him a piece of my beloved garlic bread.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at emessinger@manhattanmedia.com
