This Is How We Do It

I made a rare appearance in church a few ago to attend my youngest daughter’s First Communion rehearsal.  My cradle Catholic wife, who took the sole responsibility of ushering our 8-year-old back and forth to CCD and church every Sunday for the last few years, was out of town for her new job training, so I filled in.  To be honest, I didn’t want to go.

Despite converting to Catholicism a few years ago after completing RCIA, I never found the immense comfort in the church and its rituals that my ‘growin’ up Catholic’ counterparts touted.  In fact, I still feel the exact opposite in mass…uncomfortable as an outsider.  My daughter’s excitement during the rehearsal and nervousness over the upcoming milestone reminded me of my purpose, though, and I relaxed and leaned into the pew.  

After the coordinator gave the specific instructions to the kids on how to act, when to walk, and where to sit, Father Grassi, our longtime pastor who is retiring at the end of this year, grabbed the mic and gave the parents some ‘helpful hints’ about how to make this event go down smoothly.

“Have your kids here at 9:30am.  Not 9:40, not 5 till 10, not quarter of, but 9:30am.  Parents, don’t make your kids suffer on one of the most important days of their lives because of your inability to be on time.  They need time to calm down, pray, and prepare for this monumental day in their lives.  Don’t put your schedule above their needs.”

Bam.  He told us.  And I heard him, loud and clear.  I’d never considered the ramifications of my own tardiness on my kids.

“And pictures, I’m going to talk about pictures.  They are not allowed during the mass.  Have some respect for the celebration and your child.  Take part in their special day by praying for them as they walk in instead of flashing a light in their eyes.  Be present.”

He went on to say that he would halt mass and ask people to leave if they take photos, which I thought was pretty awesome that he was so firm in his conviction.

The rehearsal ended, the real deal took place the following Saturday, and us parents all did as we were told and the first communicants entered the next phase of their lives with flying colors, and life resumed as normal.

However, Father Grassi’s words still stick with me and seem to apply in every situation I’ve encountered since.  Not the tardiness and the camera stuff, but the idea of taking the time to give the “this is how we do it” speech in a way that not only sets up an expectation, but also explains why said expectation is set.  

I told my daughter that it’s not acceptable to have her beau in your bedroom alone with the door closed, as it can create too much opportunity and blur the level of formality that a young relationship typically has, as well as give a very specific impression to others when done with a group of people around outside the bedroom door.  She needed to know.

While we can agree that kids need this for sure, I don’t think it’s really any different with adults.  We need to set boundaries and intention for others, as well as hear and acknowledge others’ expectancy.  Of course people don’t always meet our expectations, nor us theirs, but by spelling it out each and every time, there’s NEVER a moment when we don’t understand why something went sideways.

Think about it in terms of a job.  We’re usually given a title and a job description and training on how to execute those tasks.  If you don’t meet the written expectation, there’s no surprise when you get written up or fired for lack of performance.  

Photo of Father Grassi courtesy
 of mildsauce.org

How about as a spouse, a mother, a friend, a patient, or a mentor?  While these don’t traditionally come with a pre-printed playbook, they run a hell of a lot smoother when we take some basic stabs at formulating rules of play!

While most people subconsciously seek boundaries, even if for the sole intent to cross them, we  have difficulty dishing out those same rules of engagement.  Why is that?  Are we afraid of ridicule, or worse yet, rejection?

As an adult with a decent education and prolonged exposure to society, business, culture, diversity and their respective norms, I still need some schoolin' from time to time on something as simple as being late. That I can accept.  Yet it’s not as easy to draw out the lines of expectation for others.  

Can I ask someone to leave when they’ve overstayed their welcome?  Can I tell a client we can no longer work together over respect issues?  Can I chase a new passion even though I have not yet fulfilled the last?  

While these questions reek of discomfort, each is answered with a resounding YES when your hand has been laid out.

I’m tired and have a long day tomorrow so it’s time to wrap it up.  I can’t do my best work when I’m distracted by the way you treat everyone around you as less than.  I need to be heard in order to survive so I keep testing the mediums until I get it right.

It all comes down to my favorite topic, which is living in the world of reality versus adhering to the stories we tell ourselves based on our own insecurities.

My favorite author, Armistead Maupin of Tales of the City, says, “The world changes in direct proportion to the number of people willing to be honest about their lives.”

This is my mantra.  This is how I roll.  Thank you Father Grassi for teaching me a lesson while existing within my world. 

Call a Spade a Spade

My 7-year-old came home from school last week excited to show me the finished product of a story she had been working on in class.  Her 3-part project included a timeline page, complete with 3 events plotted out to match her colorfully drawn pictures, a hand-written page on lined paper with a primary pencil, and the front cover, a mostly-white page highlighting her paragraph-long essay, thoughtfully typed out for her by her first-grade teacher:

The funniest thing that I saw was when my mom threw her crutches on purpose because she was mad.  First, my sister and I did not clean our room.  Then we walked away down the stairs.  Finally, she threw her crutches and yelled at us. 

After sharing the papers, she went on to say the teacher asked her if she thought she should write about something else in case her mom might be mad about the topic.  

“I told her my mom would be fine with it!” she confidently stated.

She’s right.  Not only am I not mad, I’m thrilled that this totally true story from two-surgeries-ago sticks in her mind as funny.  Having endured three separate knee surgeries and recovery periods in the last year and a half, alongside my wife’s year-long bout of depression, I’ve learned a few important facts:

• I throw occasional fits that give toddlers a run for their money; that will probably never change
• Asking for help is both extremely difficult and equally necessary
• My kids and my wife are not breakable; they are resilient, compassionate and prone to just laughing in my face.
• Life is unreliable, with the exception of it’s messiness.
• Every negative creates a positive, if you let it
• Acknowledging and greeting reality by name is necessary for growth and general well-being, no matter who you are

Am I proud of my crutch-throwing incident? No, I’d put its embarrassment level right on par with the Wendy’s debacle, where after a night out cocktailing, my wife and I decided to hit Wendy’s on foot at 2am for Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers that always seem to soak up the liquor.  Unhappy that the indoor restaurant was closed and only the drive-through was open till 3am, we called an Uber to pick us up at the entrance of restaurant, drive us through the drive-up window to get food, and drop us at our home 2 blocks away.  

My daughter and I sat at the kitchen table and laughed for what seemed like 15 minutes about those crutches flying through the air and the pictures she drew in description of the event.  We talked about my frustration and indignation at having to be limited in my movement, preventing me from quickly exiting the scene in order to put myself in a time-out, and we discussed the surprise, fear, and comic relief that my kids felt all at the same time.  My 1st-grader even re-enacted the scene for me so I could see the scene from her angle.  We laughed so hard we cried.

What can you do but laugh at yourself?  Losing my cool with the crutches coaxed me to acknowledge my vulnerability and highlighted it to my family members.  It forced my kids to learn perspective.  It, along with many other non-picture-perfect moments over the last few years, gave our family the platform on which to build an on-going conversation about confronting our fears and emotions, sharing our feelings, and developing the self-assurance to call a spade a spade.

To Be or Not to Be....a Good Parent

The definition of a good parent is subjective.  From self-reliant, to successful, to soccer extraordinaire, and everything in between, parents are judged on a lot of different markers when it comes to the outcome of their kids.  Some define a good parent as someone who takes care of his child’s every need, and then some.  Others classify a good parent as one who makes decisions in the best interest of her child first, before anything else.  Still another faction of folks designate a good parent by the level of respect and politeness said parent’s children demonstrate to others.  There’s no one, solid, correct answer.  Basically, as a parent, you have to choose what’s important to you to provide for your kids, and dig in from there.

It’s not easy, by any stretch of the imagination.  Sometimes it’s downright hard to make the decisions that you know are right for you and your family.  Take, for instance, today’s decision to let my child muster through running club after school without her running gear that she neglected to pack.  On the way to school this morning, I double-checked my 9-year-old that she had her bag running clothes for her after-school program.

“I have that today?” she inquired earnestly.

“Yep.  Every Monday and Wednesday.  Today’s Wednesday,” I responded matter-of-factly.

At that moment, the 2^nd bell rang from the school, still a half a block away, indicating it’s time for my daughter to hit it so that she can make it into her seat by the last bell.

“I’ll pick you up after run club!” I yelled after her.  “You’ll be fine in your jeans.  Love you!”

There was not time for my daughter to get upset.  She bolted across the street, down the block, and into the entrance of the school.  It was actually an ideal situation.  I didn’t have to deal with the moaning and groaning of her worrying how she will possibly run in jeans instead of sweatpants and her nice knit shirt instead of her long-sleeve thermal and sweatshirt.  There was no chance for her to ‘wa, wa, wa’ about how unlucky she is for having forgotten her good running shoes and tell me that she’ll probably get a blister from the shoes she has on.  It was just done.

I did an about-face and headed back home, without a second thought to the after-school running.  By 10am, I was debating whether to pack a quick bag and drop it off at school on the way back from dropping my little one at preschool. 

“No, I’m not going to do it,” I kept telling myself.  “This is good for her.”

My 4^th grader has had a hard time this year with organization and planning and scheduling.  First it was the homework…when to do which assignments during the week to meet her class deadlines and when to push it off until another day.  Next was how to function when getting home late from after-school activities, where she sacrifice some of her free time, family time, and homework time.  Now she’s working on finessing her morning routine so that she rises, takes care of her school preparations before eating and free-time, so that she’s always ready for her day.  My gut told me that this was a lesson for her in the last rung of her organization ladder.

I went on about my day, but by mid-afternoon, the freakin’ running bag entered my mind again!  Maybe I was being too much of a hard-ass and I should just throw her shoes and some sweats in a bag and drop them off in the office at school before the end of the day.  After all, she’s a good kid.  Competing in my head, though, ran a loop of a conversation I’d recently had with a school official regarding the high number of instances each day where parents drop forgotten items off at school for their children.  Lunchboxes, lunch money, gym clothes, homework, and projects….all things that their kids NEED to complete their day.  In reality, kids will scrounge off of someone else’s lunch, play volleyball in their Uggs, get a reduction in grade for late homework or request an extension.  In other words, it all works itself out.

Reminding myself of that, I decided to stick to my guns and drop the issue altogether.  My daughter of course made it through practice without a hitch, enjoyed her workout, and was only mildly annoyed at the fact that I had consciously decided not to bring her clothes to her in the middle of the day.  After thinking about it more, she said she completely understood and respected my decision and that it was a good lesson for her, but that she was still a little irritated by it.

Fine by me.  I’m her mom, not her fan club or girlfriend.  My job is to allow her to eventually figure things out on her own, experience consequences of actions, and see how the world really works.  The world works like this:  things don’t always go according to plan and sometimes you have to just deal with it.  She dealt, as did I.

Back to the Basics

Sitting in an elementary school parent forum recently, I was overwhelmingly struck with the concept that as parents, we’re so involved in preparing our kids for advancement that we’ve forgotten to teach them the basics of how to advance on their own.  We’re too busy doing it for them to let them in on the secret of how to do it for themselves.

We’ve somehow lost touch with our Parenting 101 instincts.  We’re too busy advocating for their safety from other drivers and pedestrians to teach them how to effectively cross a street at a corner by looking both ways and using common courtesy and manners with others on the roads.  We band together to make sure they have the best technology in their classrooms, but never consider teaching them basic technology etiquette such as respectful usage of devices in social settings.  Back up the dial a half-turn and we’ve neglected to arm them with the elementary safety warning of not walking/riding/driving while using the devices.  We’re so worried about making sure the extra-curricular audition process is fair, that we leave out the lesson on how to effectively manage their expectations and emotions when it comes down to the outcome. 

It’s about common sense and I have to say we’ve lost some of it as a society of well-intentioned parents.  Even before our babies are born, we parents are so intent on making sure our children benefit from every opportunity that’s out there, that the basics of common sense parenting get bumped to the wayside.  We get them into the best baby classes, even if it means negotiating the most basic of human needs for infants:  sleep.  We micro-manage their days and activities as they get older, not allowing them to develop the skills of creativity and self-entertainment, as they have no free or down time.  Once they hit school-age, we lobby for the best of the best in education and activities, without insisting our kids cultivate the tools they need to be responsible, integrity-driven pupils, such as discipline, motivation, respect, and working hard to earn what they want.

We’re all guilty of losing that instinctual parenting focus from time to time.  Just this morning, I got so caught with my older daughter and I comforting my younger daughter after the plant she’s cared for over the past few months died, that we were late for school.  Come on!  Comfort is great, but school hours are not up for negotiation.  I did a poor job following the basics of parenting and instead spent too much time back-patting my child.  Today’s coddling will rear its ugly head down the road one day when something happens that’s really worthy of crying and my kid can’t move past the disappointment. 

The good news is that the opportunity is always there to revert back to common sense parenting, as parenting is fluid.  From the most hovering of helicopter parents to the absentee-parent who leaves it to Jr. to figure it out on his own, and everyone in between, we can start focusing on common sense parenting at any time and expect decent results.  Kids are like sponges and even if you’ve half-way raised a kid that can’t find her way out of a paper bag, by focusing today on the entry point being the same as the exit point, she’ll absorb a concept that can be used in everyday situations for the rest of her life.   

While you can subscribe to today’s parenting trends of indulgence and entitlement, tomorrow you can reel it back in with ownership and self-reliance.  It’s never too late to teach your child how to fish instead of serving him the meal on a platter.  Let’s venture back to the ABC’s of parenting together and help foster the development of responsible human beings.

Get Prepared

Most mornings my kids get up early.  They have plenty of time to wash, get dressed, eat breakfast, practice instruments and homework, and still usually have plenty of time left to play, all before school.  Why then, do we end up scurrying around like mice three minutes before the school bell rings each weekday trying to make it out the door in time to run to school without being tardy?

I think it has to do with overconfidence.  They get so proud of themselves for doing their morning chores without being prompted that they pat themselves on the back, and kick back on Easy Street to relax the morning away.  Conversely, I start each morning quizzing them if they’re on track in their morning routines, and am usually pleasantly surprised to find out they’ve already completed most all of their morning tasks.  I then congratulate them on a job well done and go about busying  myself with some other task that needs done.  We all then look at the clock in horror five minutes prior to the school bell time, realizing everyone still has to hit the bathroom, find shoes, coats, and book bags before we can leave to sprint to school.

It’s the same every day.  No matter how early or late we get up, or how much we prepare the night before, we’re always manic for a few minutes before leaving because we’re not totally prepared.  It makes no sense how we start out so strong and then fizzle out in the preparations.  It’s like singing 99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall and getting all the way down to 1 remaining bottle and not finishing out the chorus.  It’s like spending all day hanging outdoor lights and then never turning them on.  It’s like taking the time to write a book and then never trying to publish it.  It’s nutty.

My gut instinct is to get angry with my kids and ask them what they’ve been doing that they’re not ready to go to school.  Then I look down at my own pajamas and bare feet and wonder what I’ve been doing that I’m not ready to walk them to school.  I realize they’ve learned their preparation techniques from me.  How can you not pick up my smooth moves when you’re faced with it every day?

When invited to the Mother Daughter cookie exchange I immediately have my daughter pick out the cookie recipes, quickly scan the ingredients needed so I can jot down the things I need at the grocery, and buy them 2 weeks in advance so I’ll be ready to roll on the day of the party.  I get so confident in my prep work, though, that on cookie-making day, I realize I don’t have the pan I need to make them, and send my daughter to the neighbors upstairs to borrow a pan.  Relieved we don’t’ have to run out to buy one, I quickly realize I have no parchment paper, and then run to the neighbor across the street to borrow that.  Finally fully prepared to bake, I get the layer cookies in the over, leaving myself 30 minutes to prep the next layer that will be added as soon as they come out of the oven.  Impressed with my own ability to pull off the first half of the layer cookies, I spend this prep time doing dishes and busy work, so that when they come out of the oven, the whole family has to be drawn in to scramble to chop the chocolate that needs to be melted on top of the piping hot cookie base layer.

Maybe it’s self-created drama, this preparing almost to completion, then leaving the last step undone, so as to elicit intentional hysteria in the 11^th hour.  Maybe it’s learned behavior, as I’ve witnessed my mom doing the same type of stuff both when I was a child and now as an adult myself. Maybe it’s genetically encrypted in my makeup, as I can’t help but think of my dad’s recurring taunt that Heredity is a Bitch.  Or maybe it’s just what it appears to be where we get proud of ourselves for accomplishing so much so quickly that we then overcompensate by backing off too intensely. 

Whatever it is, I wouldn’t actively change it if I could.  While I love the idea of always being on time, fully prepared, and ready for action, the reality is that life doesn’t happen that way. Life in general is messy and unpredictable, with lots of curveballs being thrown.  If my kids are always ready for school on time and never have to hustle to beat the bell because we’re too busy futzing around at home, will they ever have the wherewithal as teens to run after a bus they just missed, filled with the possibility that they just may be able to catch up with it at the next stop?  If they never have to settle for one blue sock and one black because there’s no time to find the matched set, will they ever be able to improvise in the moment when a full cup of java is spilled on their work suit on the way into a client meeting?  If my kids didn’t forget their lunch or homework or show and tell every so often and be forced to deal with the ramifications of hunger, punishment, and embarrassment, would they ever learn how to handle life’s bigger disappointments like failure and loss?

Maybe, just maybe, the lack of preparedness my kids are learning from my actions, is actually helping them prepare for life on their own one day.  Whether they keep my trait or they've already decided that this one quality is going to be the thing they handle differently as adults than their parent did when they were kids, they're unconsciously growing into the adults they'll one day become.

Change Is Good

For the past few months, I’ve been trying to prepare my kids for the upcoming changes.  A new house, a new street, new neighbors, new route to school, new piano teacher, and some new friends.  I’ve tried not to bonk them over the head with the obvious that change is hard but needed, but instead just given them little reminders from time to time that nothing is permanent.

They’ve been pretty good about my little interjections of reality. 

“Yah, Mom, I got it,” when I prompted my older daughter to give her new address when her teacher asked her where she lived during open house.  “Come look at my project”

“I already know that, Little Mama,” my younger daughter reminded me when I tried to initiate a playground conversation about how the new house will still hold the same things we own.  “Now watch me swing on the bars.”

When they did acknowledge the upcoming adjustment, the girls have been very forthcoming in their feelings about change:  It’s hard, but good. 

“I know we’re going to love our new house, but I’m really going to miss this one,” the older one said on more than one occasion leading up to our move.  “I can’t wait to move next door to Emily, but I’m sad that we’re moving further away from Rosie.”

Me too.

“I can’t wait to have a playroom, Mama!” shouted the little one, “but I don’t want to move away from the park and school where we can see Sissy come home from school every day when we look out the window.”

Ditto.

Each time a member of my family has mentioned the upcoming changes, whether positive or negative in scope, I’ve allotted the appropriate time for consideration, commiserated with the notion, then put an optimistic spin on the change.

I’ve given so many positive reinforcements that I honestly don’t even realize it when I’m doing it anymore. 

“Oh, girls, won’t it be great to be able to paint your room, as we no longer have an apartment!”

“Can you wait to have a basement that doesn’t leak and flood?”

“Just think how great it will to have room for family to stay when they visit!”

After a few weeks of repetitively listing the benefits of buying a home and moving, I came to realize that it’s not my girls who needed the convincing that change is good.  It’s me.  I was totally trying to convince myself that it was going to be okay!  The girls just want to be happy and healthy and loved.  It’s me who wants the convenience of being close to the school and resists change, even when it’s small.  After all, we moved two blocks away!

Having occupied our new home for a whopping week and a half already, I was expecting to be 100% sold on our migration.  I find, though, that I’m still weening myself off the subconscious confirmations I give myself every time a mention of new home comes up.  Instead of feeling the zen of owning our own place and basking in the awesomeness of its existence, I’m still convincing myself that change is good.

It really has nothing to do with the positive or negatives of one home versus the other.  It’s just the mere idea of change.  It’s the idea that nothing is the same anymore.  New habits have formed and old routines have been broken.  Order has been abandoned and manageable chaos has ensued.  Known responses have been replaced with unfamiliar reactions, and my dog-run familiarity with my surroundings has been usurped by this mysterious environment.

I’m being forced to learn new things about my home, my environment, and myself. I love to learn, but learning is nerve-wracking, because you can’t learn unless you come to terms with the fact that you don’t have all the answers. 

The only answer I do have is that by continuing to “comfort” my kids with my encouraging words about flux, I’m continuously reminding myself that change is good.  I wholeheartedly agree with Bruce Barton when he said, “When you are through changing, you are through.”  I’m not done yet, so I better get on with getting on!