Can Kids Still be Kids?

My two oldest boys, who are in 6th and 7th grade, started at a new school this year.  This school, although new, has other sister schools who have been ranked among the top 10 high schools in the country (it is a 5-12 grade program) for several years in a row.  As a result, it is academically intense.  My 7th grader is doing very well and loving the faster pace and challenging curriculum.  A school like this is just what he needs.  My 6th grader, on the other hand, is struggling to keep up with the demands placed upon him.  Granted, this is his first year of middle school, which has an adjustment period of its own, no matter where you attend.  He has been used to one or two teachers, not eight or nine.  He has a difficult time keeping his binders straight and making sure that the right homework gets back in the right binder.  Granted, organization is not his strong point.  Not only that, but he comes home with at least three hours of homework every night.  After spending all day at school, he has a hard time sitting down and doing another three hours of homework.  What 11 year old wouldn't?  He wants to spend all of his time reading for fun, which I love, but he isn't getting homework or chores done as a result.  Three hours turns into all night because he doesn't make the best use of his time.  He is overwhelmed.  I get frustrated when he doesn't get things turned in on time, rushes through assignments or tests while making lots of mistakes so he can get back to his book, leaves things at home (or car, or locker, etc) when he needs them at school. . . etc. . . But, at the same time, I feel sorry for the kid.  We are asking a lot of him at this stage in the game.  Education is important, and he will get a great one at this school if he can stick it out, but there are other things that are important as well.  He has no time for anything else.  He does attend scouts once/week and piano lessons, but doesn't have much time to practice.  He used to be outside playing after school instead of cooped up in his room with homework.  Granted, he does find time to do lots of reading, at the expense of other things.  But, where is the balance?  Childhood only comes around once and I feel like we are robbing him of the opportunity to be a kid.  He will have his whole life to study and learn - and only a few more years to play and enjoy the relatively carefree days of childhood.  I don't mean to say that I don't want him to learn or be successful in school.  I absolutely want those things for him.  I want him to work hard and to not take the path of least resistance.  But, I don't want him to be stressed out by school so early in his educational career.  I don't want him to feel like he is drowning in school work.  I don't want him to lose his love of learning as a result of too many demands.  But, nor do I want to let him quit this early in the game.  He has the potential to prove to himself that he can do this.  He just needs to learn the skills to make that happen.  What I don't know is how hard to push him.  He definitely needs to be pushed.  But, when is enough enough?  And, what will the consequences be either way?  I just want him to be happy, try his best, and not be afraid of letting anyone down if he feels like his best isn't good enough.  The trick is figuring out which path will lead to that end. 

Growing up

For the past couple of days my eight year old daughter has been asking me questions about whether the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny are real or not. When it first came up, I was in the middle of something and told her that it would have to be a conversation for another day. I was hoping that would hold her off for awhile, but she came right back today with more questions. I didn't know how to evade her questions, so I had to tell her the truth. It broke my heart to see the huge crocodile tears that ran down her face as the childhood excitement surrounding those exciting events melted into oblivion. In the midst of the tears she sadly proclaimed "Mom, I didn't really want to know! I don't think Christmas will be very much fun anymore."

I must admit that I wanted to cry, too. As much as I tried to ease her pain, I felt like I could see her childhood slipping away in one painful instant. I wished I could have taken it back and let the magic live a little longer, but I knew that she had already figured it out before she asked me. She wanted me to disprove her theory and tell her what she wanted to hear. Maybe I should have done it - prolonging the excitement a little bit longer. But, how could I evade her direct questions? I tried to tell her that it was all about what she believed, but that didn't cut it for her. She wanted a real answer, and now she is broken hearted.

As I was thinking about the damage that had been done, it hit me like a ton of bricks - my little girl is growing up a little too fast. Not only will this Christmas be vastly different in her eyes, but it will never be the same for her again. I know it was bound to happen eventually, but I was hoping it would last a little bit longer. This is not just about Christmas, though. It's about being a kid - about the carefree innocence of childhood that is starting to disappear. I just want to wrap her up in my arms and hold on tight, convincing myself (and her) that she will be young and innocent forever - that she doesn't need to grow up quite so fast. What used to be about baby dolls and stuffed animals is now about earrings, clothes, and boys. I know that she is only eight, but sometimes she seems like a teenager trapped in that little body. But, then there are times, like today, when I realize that she is still little - that she still needs me to be there to wipe away those tears when things don't turn out the way that she hopes - that I still have some time to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. For that I am grateful.