Chemistry Problem

This morning - outside Simon's bathroom:

S: "Mom, I have a 'chemistry problem'."
M: What's a 'chemistry problem'?
S: "Well, my stomach hurts and I've been in the bathroom alot. You know, what your body does to your food? That's Chemistry."

Indeed it is!

Simon's been coming to the Boys & Girls Club with me this summer. He spends Mondays with Gorgeous (his grandmother) and goes to the movies on Wednesdays with my sister and her boys. But the rest of the week, he comes with me. It is not his favorite place.

He did, once, famously say: "Kids at the Boys & Girls Club don't play the way kids at school play." And, living in a middle class suburb with plenty to eat and a nice big yard, and an extended family that includes lake houses, plenty of gaming systems, kids-only computers and the like - I know that my kid can't even fathom the home lives of the kids he meets here on a daily basis. And, while that's okay with me, we've made a decision to expose him to situations and people that he might not otherwise meet in our neighborhood or at school.

Add that in with being an only child and you have what we'll call an "adjustment period." The first several days were hard. He cried. A lot. But I knew that learning to wait his turn, not always getting his way and being appriciative of what he had are things that I wanted for him. And so, it has gotten better. Until today.

The last couple of weeks, either Monday, or Wednesday - or both, he hasn't gotten his days off. And, it's beginning to show. He is coming to my office for "check ins" more often. He is signing up for all the field trips and get out of here things he can. He wants to know precisely when we are leaving each day. Most days, I throw him right back in with the other 6 to 9 year olds. One or two times a week, I let him quietly color in my office, or sit in the conference room. And, my used-to-playing-by-himself-only-child has done great; playing with others some, getting a time out when he needs it.

So, at lunch time, on our check in, he told me again that his stomach ached and he needed to go home "right now." I checked with the staff, verified that he had had an apetite at lunch, and been playing with gusto all morning. I took deep breaths through the tears, told him to be tough, and sent him right back to his group. By our 4 p.m. check in, he was all smiles.

M: "How's your tummy?"
S: "It's one centimeter better."
M: "How many centimeters bad was it?"
S: "101 centimeters at lunchtime, so only 100 now."

Well, that's not a Chemistry Problem. That's progress.