Why I Read the Newspapers

Yesterday my son was asked not to return to Lego camp as he had a experienced a Lego-throwing meltdown because his catapult didn't work right. I should have known better than to expect him to survive in the hot house environment of a small room, many boys, and competitive Lego building. My unhelpful optimism or denial, call it what you will, had once again clouded my vision with rosey blue skies.

My son was initially crushed and heart broken, but seemed to bounce back OK by the time swimming lessons came around. I was devasted and awash in despair for the rest of the day. I yearned painfully for a child who could do sleepovers, camp outs, have friends over for the whole day, survive at suumer camp, excel at school, play league sports, on and on my sad list went.

I woke up still feeling somewhat hopeless and got the paper. Right. Things are not perfect with us, true, but nobody is bombing the snot out of our neighbourhood. The electricity is on, water runs hot and cold through our taps, the fridge is well stocked, nobody near to us is dying.

So, a little perspective. Big problems. Little problems. It's sad when my son experiences set backs, but it is not the end of our world.

Comments

[e]

no wait just a minute here! i teach art camp and when i get meltdowns, i sometimes banish kids for the rest of the session, especially if they've broken a safety rule as this seems to be. but not to return ever? banished? what is that about? what's that supposed to teach a kid? incarceration is next???