Yes, we're still around!

Sorry for the terribly long absence here, I've been adapting to my new tablet, researching the wealth of antiquities at the old theatre, (which we continue to find three months into the process) and doing day-to-day life. And skating.

Much to Stitch's current agony.

The skating suddenly got hard, and with the six weeks off he lost momentum. He's more irritable and crabby than I've seen him, and he says it's because he can't get it right. "I don't do it right," he says. "I can't get it perfect."

I keep reminding him that skating is hard and he likely won't ever get anything right on the first try. Like the Salchow.

But because it's hard and he can't get things perfect, he's lapsing back into his thinking of, "If I can't do it, I won't try." He won't accept that failure is an inevitable part of trying new things, and of life in general.

Well, this way of thinking runs counter to his enjoyment of being in shows and performing. So, we're at an impasse. While lessons are hard and trying and he ends up literally pulling his hair in frustration, he has to pull through them to get his chance at a spotlight. And I'm doing my best to help him through this rough spot. I'm cheery and upbeat and I ignore his protests, reminding him that if he wants that spotlight, he's got to work for it.
"But you're aiming it," he pointed out to me. "Just aim it at me."
"That's not the point."

School has, again, become a battleground. I shove him through reading and math drills, I sit on him for well-done homework, and I want nothing more than for Spongebob to be wiped from the face of the earth. I'm weary of always countering the negative. I had suspected that since Stitch had been such an easy baby, that I was probably in for a wild ride later on down the road, and I was right. He says he doesn't want to do "anything." He tells me he wants time to "relax" and "be himself," yet when I give him this time, within five minutes he's moping around complaining of boredom. So I provide things to do, and then he's whining that he's too busy. I can't win.

He's a good kid, don't get me wrong. He's just working out some kinks at the moment and it's making me insane. Because, you know, I can't say to him, "Why can't you be a normal kid, for pity's sake?"

Sorry for the ranting. His moodiness is really wearing on me.

Coach still wants him in Freestyle Three. I don't know what to think. She says he's a bit rusty on the elements at the moment, but it will come back as we get back into a regular schedule. I certainly hope so, and I hope he picks himself out of whatever hole he's in right now.