So, Tristan did not have a good time at Otakon. Which was fine with me, and I extended the leave time from 8 to 9, so he could attempt to squeeze any possible joy from that last hour, but finally we did have to go. And then we had a nasty fight on the way home because I was so tired and drained and he had to keep complaining, in the classic Tristan fashion, about what a disappointment and a waste the day was. He actually even said that in future he will just stay in the house and play video games because they don't disappoint.
It was Tristan in the grip of his worst character defect and I was just too tired to treat it artfully. Eventually, as I got madder, I told him that basically if he said the day was just SHIT for him, then all the work I put into making it good could be flushed down the toilet, too, and the special stop to get him the pants he needed, the items I sprang for, the driving and the cost of the tickets, the fixing of his hair and all my help were just wasted because if things aren't right for him, the day is shit.
Aaaand, he might think, when he's got to go on and on about how lousy his time was, that maybe he's affecting the feelings of the people around him, who might otherwise be savoring their happy memories.
Do you know what was bothering him? His costume turned out to be ordinary. There were many Ls there, and no one noticed Tristan. Even though, as we both agreed, his was the best and had several great little details that no one else got, he was unhappy that very few people called out "L!" when they saw him.
You know, when he was five years old, I wrote to an advice columnist about his incessant complaining. She gave me good advice, too, but isn't it disgusting how our character flaws stay with us? The advice that worked well for a kindergartner is not so suitable for a 16 year old, either. It's hard to ignore it and move on when the person has the tenacity to keep it up in the front seat for an hour. And then ask why you are not responding!
In the midst of this reaming out process, I hear a little snerk from the back seat. Honor was crying because we were fighting. I hardly ever really give it to them, so she's not used to it. And then I felt terrible, because it was the third time she'd been in tears today - once when she got lost in the dealer's room and once when she found she'd lost some money.
Well, eventually I apologized for being harsh (although not for what I said, because it was all true) and Tristan said, "Don't think that what you are saying isn't what I think every day about myself." He talked about how bad he feels about "wasting his life" by not producing enough creative work, and how life is really meaningless and whatever meaning you find for it is false and empty. And I told him that it really does get better and that most of the feelings he has, I have had when I was younger too.
I feel for him -- he's such a sensitive and gloomy person -- but I also worry that if he goes on behaving like this, no one will be able to stand him. He's got to learn to buck up. And I wonder if he'd be better off with a tougher mom who had no patience for this nonsense and gave him no opportunity to wonder if he feels satisfied with an experience.
Honor eventually stopped crying and was pretty cheerful once we got home. Both of them were disappointed that they didn't buy enough stuff at the con. Buying a ton of stuff is actually a major part of the experience, but I think they have acquired, after five Otakons, a lot of what is there. Coming home with money in your pocket is a sign of failure.