Monday, February 4, 2013

Team work

We just had conferences for Eli down at Open School.  Glowing reports from all quarters- with one side note.  He's working on a history day project with 2 of the 3 boys he knows quite well at the school.  The third boy, Sam, was the only one wise enough to go it alone.  When we asked Eli's teacher what he thought about how it was going with Eli's group he said, "Well, one thing I know for sure, Sam will have 3 good friends at the end of the history day competition."  Which is pretty much what I had been thinking.  Tension is growing between Eli and his parnters.  Different expectations, different styles- add to that poor communication and you got yourself a volcano simmering on high. Eli doesn't seem too concerned, but he has noted that next year he will opt for a single person project.  So something has been learned, anyway.

We saw similar teamwork issues at Theo's recent Lego League State Meet.  In that case, there was a group of 10 5th and 6th graders trying to work together on a multi-faceted, high stakes, project.  Or it was high stakes in Theo's mind.  Winning at the state level meant a trip to Lego Land and the national competition in San Diego.  He wanted that.  Badly.  He also wanted to further show up his older brother, who had never even made it to state. The team did not have any sort of success- their codes broke down and threw the whole thing off. They scored the lowest score they had posted all season.   Luckily, Theo seemed to be one of the most relaxed players in the mix on Saturday.  There were a few others who were brought to tears, after some classy swearing and yelling.  Theo later pointed out that the two boys most upset had slept at one house last night, despite Theo's trying to warn them against that plan.  He was suggesting early bedtimes for the whole team.  It became clear not everyone listened.

Working with people is hard.  But I think the boys are learning good lessons around it this year.  The trick now is to use what they've learned in future opportunities.  Here's hoping....

What muscles am I moving?

Over the weekend I signed Eli up for his weight room orienation at the local Y.  He's showed a bit of interest lately and I thought- strike while the iron is luke-warm!  I had to pick him up from a friend's house to get him to the Y, and while walking from the door to his car in his ski boots (why he was wearing his ski boots is another story that has to do with not listening to great suggestions from your mom) he slipped on some ice and came down very very hard on his tailbone.  I had to help him up and hold on to him for a moment before he was able to carry on toward the car.  Now, any 13 year old who is willing to be held in a bearhug by his mother outside of his friend's house, with the whole friend's family watching through the big family room windows, that 13 year old is in pain. 

I got him into the car where he sat awkwardly hunched forward, keeping weight off his rear.  He grunted and groaned and moaned over every bump- and being winter in MN, there were a lot of those.  When he gets like this- groaning and moving awkwardly like a 95 year old man, I lose my patience.  Even when he's legitamately hurt.  I was ready to throttle him.  And then bring him to the ER.  For both the tailbone and the throttling.  But I didn't do either.  I figured that the ER wouldn't do anything for him anyway- and this I know from our experience in breaking our Peruvian houseguests tailbone a few years back.  You just have to suffer through it.  So I took him to the Y.  I explained to the woman at the front desk that we may need to rescedule as his mobility was limited.  She assured us that he would only be learning about all the machines, not get on them.  Given this info, I popped some painkillers into his mouth and we awaited the trainer. 

He arrived.  He was Eli's height, and I'd bet 3 times the weight, which isn't saying much, as Eli has bird bones and nothing over them.  He looked Eli up and down and came to some conclusions.  I told him about Eli's recent injury and how that might effect the next 30 minutes.  He didn't hear.  Or he didn't listen.  Not sure.  He took Eli away and got him on the machines while I called the nurseline just to make sure we weren't doing any more damange.  After getting confirmation from the medical world, I joined up on the orientation.  Just in time to get the orientation to the machine that builds pecs.  The trainer was one the machine and using it to rapidly flex his pecs.  They were jumping around under his shirt.  He was asking Eli, "What muscles am I using now?  Huh?  What ones?  Not my arms...no...not arms... which ones?"  To which Eli responded weakly "Those" while pointing at his chest.  Over the guy's shoulder Eli gave me his 100 watt grin which reassured me that he was beyond groaning and was starting to enjoy this...kind of. 

Poor Eli had to get on and off about a dozen machines and lift a bunch of weights, all while taking abuse from the trainer.  "We need to toughen you up buddy!  Buddy!  How are you going to survive the halls of high school? Buddy, you're going to have to get busy.  I'd say 3 x a week working all muscle groups for at least...at least... (looking skinny Eli up and down) a year before we're ready for real muscle group work.  Come on buddy."  The whole time making Eli contort his throbbing body in and out and around awkward machines.  Eli and I could not catch each other's eyes.  Trouble was brewing.  We were going to have to keep this laughter inside for a while longer here.  When the guy started touching Eli's muscles and making surprised noises, we both nearly lost it.  I like to think that he was surprised at the strength he felt there.  I do think Eli is more lean than skinny.  Just looks skinny in his baggy clothes. 

Finally, he was released.  After the trainer left, I complimented Eli on making it through the ordeal with out moaning and groaning.  To which he responded, "only by chewing the inside of my cheeks raw! There's blood."  But dang, he did it.  He groaned his way back out to the car, gripping my arm tightly as we crossed some icy patches.  But then once he twisted his way painfully into the car, we got the giggles over the pecs bouncing and the string of insults Eli had to hear.  Now all it takes to get Eli's mind off of his painful ass is a quick "What muscles am I moving?" and he's giggling away.