Laugh Now, Clean up Later

“Don’t get your knickers in a knot.  Nothing is solved and it just makes you walk funny.”                            Kathryn Carpenter

One day when my son was still a baby I came home to find him with bits of wet cement stuck to his clothes, skin and diapers.  He'd gotten into the wheelbarrow where his dad was mixing cement to make a small walkway.  Instead of capturing the hilarious sight of him on film, I immediately swooped in and cleaned him up—after cursing his father for not keeping a better eye on him.

As my children have grown up, I remember many an incident, that when I look back on them now would have made America's Funniest Home Videos look boring.  But instead of laughing, or taking the situation into perspective--I chose to assume the role of responsible adult.

Laughing after all would have given my kids the wrong idea.  It would have been positive reinforcement for a negative behavior--according to all good parenting literature.  The doll with the broken arm who got bandaged with my best silk scarf and the home movie I found where the boys were jumping from the high branches of the redwood tree onto the trampoline, both make me laugh when I think about them now.

When I remember all the funny scenes, I am the one in the middle putting everything back together, teaching my kids what better choice they could make next time.  Yet, these are the scenes I remember most.  They are the things the kids talk about around the dinner table, laughing hysterically for years afterwards.  I wish I could have laughed in the moment and cleaned up later.

Since my children continue to make unusual choices there's still time to laugh first and clean up later!  From now on I will laugh for as long as I like, without worrying what behavior I'm reinforcing.  Then, when the time is right I'll sit down like a good mom and explain the consequences.

I can learn to put my responsible adult self aside and laugh in the moment.

All Children are Not Created Equal

“Likely as not, the child you can do least with will do the most to make you proud.”                                                   Mignon McLaughlin
       
Yesterday I struggled (and cried) over the realization that my kids are not created equal.  Yes, I love them all the same beyond description and I’ve made the effort to point out all of their individual and unique talents, but some of them have talents and skills that far surpass the others.  That’s hard to explain to a kid—why he or she isn’t nearly as good at something as a brother or sister.  It is even more difficult if the child noticing this inequality has obvious disabilities. 
       
I can usually come up with very creative solutions to every family issue but this one has stumped me.  I’ve been preparing for this since my son was diagnosed with high functioning autism—building him up—pointing out all the ways he shines in the world.  But the truth is that he doesn’t shine the way he wants to, and there isn’t anything I can do to make it better.  He has amazing strengths like his ability to keep his room neat and clean, his love of animals and his creative moviemaking skills—but those aren’t the ones being measured out in the world
          
He wants to be just like everyone else, scoring high on math tests, understanding basketball plays without having to study them, or talking without thinking.  In his view of the world, he is the only one struggling while the rest of us sail through our lives with little to no effort.  In some ways he’s right.  I tell him his time will come, that things will get easier with practice.  All he says is “When?”
             
Sometimes we love with all our might and yet we still have to stand back and let life happen, having no power to make it better for our children.  To love another human being so much it hurts is life’s greatest blessing.  Being able to accept the life our children are given can be a challenge.  Helping them to see and accept themselves for the unique and loved persons they are is our job. 

Today I will allow my children the dignity of their own struggles.

“’You Let Your Kid Do What??’

“When I stopped seeing my mother with the eyes of a child, I saw the woman who helped me give birth to myself.”   Nancy Friday

When my daughter attended her last high school prom I had the pre-prom party.  Over a chocolate covered strawberry, I told one of the fathers that Wesley and a few friends had rented a hotel room in San Francisco.  The man looked shocked.  It was in this moment that I realized how much I trust my children.  That isn't to say I expect them to go through life never getting into trouble or that they'll make all the right choices.  Rather, over the last few years I've worked on the concept of letting go and believing that the hours spent teaching, modeling, advising and loving my children will be enough to see them through.

Our children will not always live within eyesight, they grow and change in ways we cannot control or even direct.  I've struggled often with what choice to make, but in most every situation I've been willing to listen to what they've wanted and tried to work within their plans.  In return I've been blessed with open communication--I know when there are drugs at a party, which of their friends is having sex and when they are faced with serious problems or difficult choices.

We cannot make the actual choices for them.  They will be confronted with temptations and opportunities we would like to ignore or pretend do not exist.  I wanted to tell the father that his son was 18-years-old, and that at some point all we can do is let go and believe that we've given our child the life skills they'll need to survive.  But I kept eating my strawberry having determined a long time ago that one of the fun aspects of parenting is the experimental nature of it all--each parent must embark on a life journey with their child.  Nobody has a map!

I will celebrate my children and  give them the freedom they need to grow into themselves.

Seize the Moment

“The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice.”
                                                                      George Eliot

Late on Sunday night I returned from a movie to find my car packed with skis, a snowboard, boots and chains for the tires.  On the kitchen counter was a note, “Mom, Rhett and I decided to go skiing in the morning—why don’t you come with us?  We’re leaving at 5:30.” 
First you have to know that I’m NOT a morning person.  Even the usual time of 6:45 finds me stumbling around the kitchen trying to remember who likes what in their lunch.  So the idea of getting up, driving three hours to ski, then trying to keep up with the kids all day on the slopes was not that appealing.

As mothers go I’m as flexible as the next, a change in plans is par for the course.  But this was going to put a lot of pressure on the rest of my week.  So at first I told myself that they would have more fun without me, a little brother sister bonding would be good for them.  And then I started thinking that next year at this time my daughter would be in college far away from me.  How many other opportunities would I have to spend a carefree day riding up ski lifts and chatting?

I knew I’d made the right decision when we pulled out of the driveway in the still dark morning and the CD that blasted from the speakers was Elton John’s greatest hits, which is not my children’s favorite.  Rhett then said, “I put in Elton John for you because I know you like him.”
On this day I set my reasoning aside and listened to my heart.  As a result I was reminded how important it is to create a little extra space in our lives so that if our responsibilities have to be set aside for an hour, a day, or a week, we won’t be thrown into a state of panic.  We have to seize the moments that are offered to us, because often the opportunity doesn’t come again.

I will discover new ways to play with my children this week!

Bathing Suit Blues

“There is a fountain of youth:  it is your mind, your talents, the creativity you bring to you life and the lives of people you love.  When you learn to tap this source, you will have truly defeated age.”
Sophia Loren

Vacation is approaching—that dreaded time of year when I’ll have to consider wearing a bathing suit.  I sit and page through old family photo albums and wonder what ever happened to the bathing suits that looked more like tennis dresses, the ones that covered an inch or so of your inner thigh—the kind where you didn’t have to shave your bikini line daily?

I often wonder why they don’t sell bathing suits according to age instead of size.  It isn’t right that my sixteen-year-old and I are thumbing through the same racks.  Oh, I don’t want to make it sound like there are no options for the older woman—there are the suits with cups that could double as bulletproof vests.

But it is more than the suit itself that bothers me—it is the concept.  What makes us think we’re supposed to look good in a bathing suit at 40 years old?  Have we missed some step in our development having to do with accepting reality?  Skin does sag no matter how many pilates classes we attend.  Shouldn’t there be a time in our lives when we can stop worrying about the shape of our bodies?

Of course we each have the option of accepting ourselves whatever size we are—and some of us acquire the wisdom to step out of the ”beauty at all costs (including major surgery)” game.  But what happens if you’re stuck somewhere in between—sometimes wanting to look fit, thin, and young—and at other times determined to give yourself the break you’ve earned?

How do we really come to terms with the aging process?  Well, we could start by watching the way men approach aging:  leave the gray hair, gain twenty pounds, give up running for cards, and drink more beer.  But if we’re serious about entering mid-life in a healthy state of mind, we should start asking ourselves the questions that matter:  What do I want?  Can I be happy with the body I have instead of wanting something different?  Is there a bathing suit designer out there who cares?

My body is a beautiful masterpiece.