Team Parenting
One of the most critical and dangerous aspects of parenting is the strategic alliance between the two parents. This is true regardless of whether you are happily married, unhappily married, divorced, living together or apart. If you are single parent, I tip my hat to you for performing the hardest job in the world, but in this one aspect you may have the advantage. You benefit by having one sovereign voice of authority.
If two parents are not perfectly aligned in mission, strategy and tactics, those sweet little bundles of (seemingly vulnerable) love and joy will eventually pillage the household like Attila the Hun. They can smell weakness. At the slightest hint of a parental fault-line, they will plunge a wedge in it and hammer until you shatter into a million tiny shards of defeat not big enough to scoop coals from the fire or draw water for a drink. (Please refer to the book of Jeremiah – I’m referring to Old Testament-style vengeance here.)
It is for this very reason that I try especially hard to always have my husband’s back – especially in front of the children. I disagree with most everything he does (tactically) but I exert Herculean effort to restrain my disappointment that he has not executed my superior parenting methods. Sometimes, though…well, this wouldn’t be interesting if I always got it right, now would it?
I was in the bathroom this morning getting ready for work. I can hear my husband and my son engaged in the morning ritual dance of asking, ignoring, pleading, rejecting, cajoling, and yelling involved in getting the boy fully dressed and fed before school. My husband was exhibiting saintly patience (i.e. a maddening passivity and failure to acknowledge the boy’s insolent behavior) while my blood pressure continued to increase with the rising volume and sass of said boy. I try not to jump in and take over these situations.
Really.
I try really, really, really hard.
But this morning my restraint buckled.I marched out of the bathroom with curlers still in my hair and affixed my laser vision on the boy. And with the thundering voice of Zeus I declare: I will not tolerate this noise anymore! You will not speak to your father that way; I will not have it! Let me remind you how this works. He (I point to my husband) is an adult; you (I point at my son) are the child. He is the parent; you are the child. He is the boss; you ARE NOT THE BOSS.
I swing around on my husband and inquire: Who’s the boss? (I’m picturing this in my head kind of like a half-time locker room pep talk, but I’m not sure my husband received it as such.)
My husband responds: Um, m-me?
That’s right! I say and swing around once more casting a squinty, zzzt! look in my son’s direction. Do you understand me?
His sweet little head nods furiously.
I stand, fists on hips, head cocked in classic superhero reflective pose and declare: My work here is done.
Wow, look what my sister-in-law is up to now. Love it!
Posted via web from Bite Size
What is it you think is too hard?
Do you have a dream? Of course, you do – or you did.
Remember? Way back before you got slapped around by failure and disappointment? Before obstacles and fear and busy-ness crept in, and your dreams became small objects in the rear-view mirror of your life?
I’ve thought a lot over the years about dreams and purpose. What is it I was made for? What am I meant to do? How will I know if I’m on the right path? I believe you learn much when you revisit those dreams. To give weight and mass to them, sometimes you have to do what’s hard. You sacrifice; you pursue excellence; you get hurt; you ask for help; you expose yourself; you risk failing. But what small payments for the prize of a life well-lived with meaning and joy.
You may have seen Canadian figure skater Joanie Rochette’s emotional performance the other night – just days after her mother died suddenly, unexpectedly of a massive heart attack. She didn’t just show up and gut it out – she nailed it with passion.
I don’t know if I have that kind of fortitude, but I do know that the things I thought were too hard to make my dreams happen – aren’t. I’m bushwhacking excuses and fear. I’m going to remember what I love. If Joanie can push through the heartbreak, maybe I can too.
See Joanie’s performance here. I dare you not to cry.
My first-born turns 15 today.
I am not especially sentimental.
But…I am feeling a little tender on my baby’s birthday today, so maybe you’ll indulge me a moment?
Kyle is the official family worry wart. My mother says that we need never worry about anything while Kyle is around because she will worry about everything. Is everything locked? Do we have our keys? Is there a bathroom where we’re going? Should I wear a coat? The contents of her purse will sustain the whole family for week in the event of a natural disaster.
She’s afraid of thunder, bees, deer, carwashes…but one thing she has never been afraid of is being herself. She is more comfortable in her own skin than anyone else I know. She has always been a happy child who stubbornly, but pleasantly knew her own mind. I feared this quality might have been battered by middle school or the teenage years or the advent of romance, but her sense of self abides. I am profoundly proud, impressed, and envious of this gift she has.
I could easily write volumes about what makes this girl special and how this baby saved my life and rescued me from an aimless existence. Let it suffice to say that I am privileged to be her mom. Happy birthday, Kyle!
Commitment Cavalier
Today I’m meditating on the meaning of commitment. What does it mean to make a commitment, keep a commitment, honor a commitment? When is appropriate to discard a commitment, ignore a commitment, reject a commitment?
There was a time when I was pretty cavalier about some of my commitments. I was young, immature, unable to see too far forward into the consequences for myself – but even worse, the consequences my choices would have on others.
Now I am repeatedly astonished at how cavalier others are with their commitments. I try really hard to be kind and gentle with these people, knowing that when I get burned by them, it is reasonably some kind of Karmic payback.
But I wonder…how healthy is it to continue to overcompensate? Not just for the failings of others, but for my own failings. And am I really showing kindness when I repeatedly let others off the hook for disappointing me or burdening me or hurting me?
That’s what I’m thinking about right now.
Talk about poor visibility.
This was the view I woke up to this morning. In the early morning light, I thought we were in a blizzard white-out. Turns out, it was just snow stuck to our screen porch.
Accumulation Update
We placed this 12” ruler on the table on our deck last weekend. There was probably 3-4” still left when the snow began again yesterday. I’d say we had at least 5” by the time we went to bed. Not much overnight accumulation, but it is picking up again today. The first picture was about 8:30am, and the next less than an hour later.
Tiger relegated to the bargain bin?
I found a shelf-load of these in the clearance section of Toys R Us this weekend. At least he was shelved a safe distance from the Barbies.
