lying and frying, burning and learning

As parents, we most often know best, right? We say the things that we're supposed to say: Eat your carrots. Wear a hat. Drink some water. With Red and Pudge, I still have complete control over most of these aspects of life. If you don't want to wear your hat, then you will have to go inside. Ah, yes, I see you're wearing your hat now. (A battle that I fought regularly when they were much younger, and now putting on a hat comes naturally.)

With JAM, however, we're in a different stage. I will make the suggestions, but more and more, he's out on his own in the world, and I have to hope that he'll make responsible decisions. Keeping in mind that he's a ten year old with ADHD, though, means hearing about a fair share of questionable decision making after the fact.

Today, JAM went off to our community pool with a friend. The noon opening time really stinks for us, since a much needed naptime happens every day at 1 pm, but I'm happy that JAM is finally old enough to sign himself in and hang out. He made a lunch on his own, packed his bag with his gatorade, swim trunks and board shirt, and off he went. He takes medicine in the middle of each day, so I asked him to call home when he stopped to take his meds (which he also packed on his own). He's getting better about using the alarm on his quaintly basic cell phone, which helps with the forgetfulness that is so dominant with ADHD.

Before he left, I reminded him that he needed to keep his board shirt on. I realize that not many kids his age wear them, but guess what, most of his friends have a whole lot more melanin that may not keep them protected from long-term effects of the sun, but do keep them from getting an immediate sunburn like some of us. JAM isn't as translucent as me as his skin tone matches more closely to his father's, but his dad often gets sunburned if he's out for too long.

When I spoke with him later in the afternoon, I asked if he'd been keeping the shirt on, to which I got an affirmative answer. The evidence that stood before me when he walked in the kitchen proved otherwise. But once you tell a lie, you've got to stick with it, right? I thought you said you kept your shirt on! is met with I only took it off for a few minutes.

Yeah, clearly.

Let's fast forward through the want another chance to tell the truth? segment of the talk, shall we? And the do you think I tell you to wear your shirt just for the heck of it? part, too, while we're at it. No need to dwell on the there will be a punishment for not listening to me and choosing to lie to me conversation thread, either.

What we were left with at the end of the evening was a very lobster-like JAM, experiencing his first ever serious sunburn- his face, neck, arms, torso and back all deeply red and obviously very painful. Ibuprofen, solarcaine and a soft undershirt of his father's were prescribed by his parents, and just as the shivers were starting, he crawled into bed.

Knowing that your child is in physical pain is a sucky aspect of parenting. I know that on the grand scheme of things, a sunburn hardly qualifies as serious, but I have such vivid memories of lying in my own childhood bed back in the pre-sunblock days, crying as I tried to fall asleep while my entire body sizzled. It's no picnic, but thankfully, it's short-lived.

Now, we look forward to some logical consequences, including some pool-less days, happening alongside the painful natural consequences he's feeling so harshly tonight. Oh joy.

Some lessons are particularly harder to learn than others, but I really, really hope that this one will stick in his memory.


Refraining from saying I told you so,