We
learn more from what we get wrong in life than what we get right...
If this phrase is true, which I
believe it is, I am figuratively preparing my Mensa application as we speak,
because I must be a fragging genius, teeming with knowledge. The adage of we
learn from our mistakes holds true of course, but what if you cannot afford the
mistake? Everyday life hands you something you can get wrong, but what
if want to see your gaffe before it is too late? Welcome to
parenthood.
I had to recently explain the idiom,
(to) squeeze water from a stone, to my 5 year old. He heard me read this to him
from an Irish folklore book. The fact that the characters were talking to
leprechauns didn't throw him, but this idiom did. I attempted to muddle through
with examples, hoping I didn't have to Google it to actually have it make
sense. The best I came up with was it was it was difficult to get something
from someone or something if they were unwilling. Blank look from Atticus...I
think I even heard a cricket chirp. Okay. A further attempt to explain it
involved the notion that sometimes things are hard, and no matter how hard we
try we wouldn't be able to accomplish it. Hell, now I'm depressed. I broke it
down finally like this...Remember the other day, when EVERYONE was in a bad
mood? Even me? Yeah, well getting everyone happy on that day, was like trying
to squeeze water from a stone. He nodded his head, I'm not sure if it was that
he understood or he was just trying to get me to shut up.
Then, as I am trying to pull my
thoughts from my cluttered head onto this laptop, I was asked by my precious
flower of a daughter, if I could help her flush the toilet. Really? We live in
a 130 year old house, the pipes are old and the last time the plumber was here
he explained that I needed an industrial plunger...INDUSTRIAL? I really don't
want to make that kind of commitment. What I do want for this specific child to
understand that a "courtesy flush" is not a frightening thing. It
won't suck her into the 130 year old pipes. It will help her when she is
flush-ready, and she is 7 years old and should be able to flush a toilet. Alone.
So, instead of trying to squeeze water from a stone, she learned from what she
got wrong in her bathroom solitude (seriously envious of the free time
my children spend sitting on the toilet). She flushed it and plunged
it. Herself. If she is ever visiting any of you reading this, I pre-apologize.
I was talking to someone who was
expecting their fourth child this morning. I remember thinking what she was
thinking, and while we were talking I had a strange feeling come over me. It
was one of fear but also smugness. The fear was what I felt when I had no idea
how I would parent four children at once...how would I meet to all of their
needs? The notion of being outnumbered, and a mutiny could arise at any moment? The smugness was in
the form of self-satisfaction or pride in knowing that I've been there and done
that, I don't need a t-shirt, I don't remember every detail, and thankfully I
am not a card carrying member of Betty Ford. This woman's story is just
getting started. She has years before...puberty.
I talk about it ad nauseum, but here
is some more for you. I cannot wake up my children, a few in particular, without
saying a prayer, taking a deep breath, and mentally thanking my own
mother for not selling me to the circus. I HAD TO ACT JUST LIKE THIS?
RIGHT? Oh, don't answer that right away, I would almost start crying. Between
my hormone imbalances and my teenager's? I mentally see us in a UFC ring,
the chain link all around, poised and waiting for the bell to start our
verbal skirmishes. I don't want to fight. Honestly, I don't. I mean I honestly
DON'T. I wish there was a pill, homeopathic of course, that you could just
take to deal with the fact that your teenager was all knowing. I could take one
in the morning with my coffee, by the time said teenager came into view the effects
of said pill would already be in your system. You could hear all about how he
knows this, or how his siblings are doing that wrong or how dumb it is that he
can't wear shorts to school when it's 32 degrees out. You would just nod your
head, kind of like being explained an idiom, and your lack of response/expression
would almost calm him as well. He's a good kid. We'll get through this. It is
just a phase. But clearly, I'm learning from what I'm getting wrong in this
situation, because to him I rarely do anything right.
I took Atticus to his kindergarten
screening today. How is that even possible? Really? I was nervous for him, I
didn't want him to be shy under pressure. I was handed forms and he
sat down and started answering questions. As I was filling the forms out, it
was odd to hear his little voice, explaining this and that or not quite
understanding what he was asked. I am grateful that I got to spend this last
year home with him, like I did all the rest of the kids. A silver lining, an occasional
cocktail and the notion that every morning when I start the coffee, starts
another day I get to learn from my many mistakes and be grateful I'm here to
make them. If I got any of that wrong, I guess in this case, I don't want to be
right.
No comments:
Post a Comment