Beat the Clock

Freestone says I'm the worst mom in the world.  Like, the WORST.  It's because I make him practice.  Well, if he would just do it cheerfully, it would take 20 minutes of his day, tops.  But since he complains about it, it takes his WHOLE day.  That's the problem, not the fact that I could get a job as the Wicked Witch's private tutor.

I like practicing with Freestone, except when he tries to break his violin.  I tell him, "I can fix that, and then you'll have to pay me for the repair and still have to practice."  It's sad that something I like so much is such torture for my son.  In my book, it's not IF you practice.  You're going to practice.  I just want it to be a good experience, or what's the point?  If it's a miserable experience, Freestone is probably right to some extent.  It's my fault.  So I came up with another new plan.  It's called Beat the Clock.  The way it works is, at the same time as I say, "It's time to practice," I set the timer for 20 minutes.  If Freestone gets through his whole list before the timer goes off, he gets a point.  If not, he still has to finish the list but doesn't get a point.  If he gets five points in a week, I take him to get ice cream.  The key here is that the time it takes to start practicing is included in the 20 minutes, since the hardest part is actually getting the thing under your chin.

When I proposed this plan to Freestone, he said, "I don't believe you."  Ouch.  He's right, I have reneged on practicing promises before, by not paying up.  Bribery gets expensive!  I think I owe Freestone about a thousand dollars at this point.  Due to my word being worthless, we both signed a contract.  Freestone's signature has drops of something falling on it.  I was afraid they represented practicing tears, but he told me they are raindrops and the letter F is an umbrella.

So far, beat the clock has worked brilliantly.  Freestone is realizing how little time his practicing actually takes, and it's more fun when I don't get mad about all the dilly-dallying.  The glitch came this morning on the way to lessons.  Free said, "I'm going to forfeit all my ice cream and save my points to buy a Minecraft game."  See, this is how I go broke.  It's going to take him a long time to get that many points, and then we won't have time to go to the Minecraft store and it will be another failed experiment.  It's Freestone's fault!  Why can't the kid be happy with an ice cream cone?  He drives a hard bargain, this kid!  If an 89 cent ice cream cone takes five points to earn, how many points do we need to buy a Minecraft game?  Scott?  Anyone?  How much do they cost?  What are they?  He already plays Minecraft on his Kindle, but he says he needs it for another device.

Oh Freestone, why can't you speak my language?  This morning when I asked Free is he had any more homework, he uttered a phrase I have never considered: "I just have one really easy math worksheet."  In my world, the words "really easy" have never even met the words "math worksheet."  Yeah, there is definitely a language barrier between us.  That's part of the reason our violin relationship is so precious to me.  It's common ground, and I don't want to scorch the earth it's built on.  Someday, if we get this thing right, Freestone will play his violin for fun, and I will understand the difference between a PS3 and a playstation.  Oh, wait.  Aren't they the same thing?  Then what's the other thing?  Free and I both still have things to learn.  Good thing there's still time on the clock.