Week 25: Leading to ME
This wasn't the idea I had in mind for this week's theme, but sometimes a photo just happens and seems to need to be shared. If you know me at all, you know that I like to keep it real. In the spirit of keeping it real, I am going to admit that I am struggling this summer so far. Summer is my favorite season. I love to be outdoors. I love the sun and warm weather. I love all the activities that summer brings. The problem is that my 9 1/2 year old isn't loving the activities he used to love. The things that used to be met with excitement are now often met with disinterest or complaints.
"Want to go to the park?"... "Not really".
"Want to go miniature golfing?"... "Nah"
"Want to go to the farm?"... "The farm?! (Loud, bored sigh). No".
That was the scene at my house yesterday. Then, I got annoyed again, yelled that he never wants to do anything anymore except have his head in a screen, and stomped down the stairs in a very mature, grown up like fashion. Then there was crying and him running to his room. Then there was snuggling and apologies in his bed, and me almost falling asleep from the sheer exhaustion of the roller coaster ride that is raising a 9 1/2 year old boy.
After much discussion, we decided to go to the farm after all, with him saying he would "make the best of it". Things at the farm went pretty well, actually, except when we came to The Shed. The Shed at the farm has been a part of his childhood. Every time we went to the farm over the past 9 1/2 years, I have taken his picture with the shed as a backdrop. I love the texture. I love all the names that people have scratched into the old wood over the years. I love the history of it. My parents took me to this farm and I stood by The Shed, and now I am taking my son there, just like the parents of all those children whose names are permanently etched into its surface. It is a tradition. One problem... My son is "SICK of this STUPID tradition". Like, making him listen to the Annie song "Tomorrow" on a loop, holding a cookie in front of his nose but not letting him eat it, sick of this tradition. Oh, the drama! I am happy to say that I did actually get a photo of him smiling (after many of him looking tortured and in pain), but I'm afraid this might be the last photo I get by The Shed. So... I'm really hoping The Shed is still around when I have grandchildren.