2/21/05 RM Newsletter: Childish Folly

Today’s Quote: “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child….” Proverbs 22:15

I threw out my back this weekend. Whether it was on the tennis court or in the weight room, I'll never know. Regardless, it's been a miserable experience. Heating pads. Sofa time. More painand discomfort than I was ready to deal with.Yesterday, gathering impatience with too much HGTV (I think Icould now single-handedly renovate my bathrooms, excavate mykitchen, and re-decorate my son's bedroom on $100); too much news(it's all so depressing); and too much of "the art of doing nothing," I called out in near-desperation to my thirteen-year-old daughter: "Cristina. How much do you love me?""That depends," she shot back. "What do you want?" She knew the drill."Will you please make mommy a cup of coffee? Fill the water to the "3" line on the pot and measure two of those small scoopers inside the coffee canister into the unbleached filter." I have very precise measures for coffee; if I'm treating myself to the experience only once or twice a day, it's got to be just right. Icouldn't let it be blown because I had failed to give proper direction....

About ten minutes later, there was no sign of coffee. No percolating sounds, ringing like Pavlov's bell to my salivating spirit. No fabulous aromas, wafting towards my upwards-tilted nose. No evidence of that last loud noise of air and water mixing through the system signaling that the process has ended successfully.In too much pain to hoist myself off the sofa-but longing too much for that freshly-brewed perfect cup of Heine Brothers coffee-I gradually maneuvered myself towards the kitchen to checkout the situation. Cristina was out of earshot, as repeated attempts at getting her attention met with silence.I saw a very disappointing still-life: A coffee pot sat with water filled to the "3" mark on top of the coffee-maker burner. A quick flip of the filter proved that she had, indeed, filled an unbleached paper filter with coffee. And she had turned the switch to "on."At this point, I had to find my daughter. The conditions for an object lesson were too ripe. Screams from the bottom of our staircase finally made it to her bedroom, where she was particularly pre-occupied with make-up and hair. She bounced down the stairs into the kitchen, where I escorted her over to the coffee machine. "Cristina. Do you notice anything wrong with this picture?"She studied it a moment. "No, Mom. I did everything you asked me to do. I put the water to the "3" mark, measured two scoops of coffee into the filter and turned it to "on."I hovered over the coffee pot, waved my arms as best Icould-enduring back pain while at it-and said "Abracadabra. Turn this water into coffee." No response. "Abracadabra. Pleeeeeease turn this water into coffee." Cristina giggled."OK, Cristina. We don't believe in magic. We believe in prayer. Let's see if God will turn this water into coffee. Dear Lord...."And then she made me stop."But mom, I don't get it. I did everything you told me to do."It took me a minute-or two-to react with an appropriate response. I knew this poor child is not lacking in the brain department; I had her tested for Florida's gifted program-and she got in. I knew her hearing was good; she did listen attentively to my directions-and she did everything exactly as I had instructed. So how could this early-teen, who had seen me make coffee a hundred times in her lifetime, not get that in order for the water to convert into coffee it had to be poured into the machine. That water cannot jump from a pot into a filter. That ground coffee beans, no matter how special, organic, and handpicked with proper labor standards, could not cascade into the pot unless they had been in contact with steaming water! Had I failed as a mom?!?No. I just had a teenage girl with swirling hormones and a brain on space-drive. She was going to an out-of-town mall that afternoon with two of her best friends, and her excitement over the prospect of new clothes, new faces, and new shops simply crowded out brain space for anything as mundane as making a cup of coffee (for her bedridden mom).

Sometimes kids do the stupidest things. We look at them and scratch our heads and think "What in the world were they thinking?" And we know they've been taught and guided and parented well; they've been fed and bathed and have gotten enough sleep; they've been rocked and read to and attended to. And yet they still do the darndest things.We need to be constantly reminded-and our kids doing silly, stupid stuff on a fairly frequent basis will be reminder enough-that they are works in progress. That they have a long way to walk up the learning curve. That things that we take for granted as "common sense," "street smarts," or "having a good head on your shoulders" come in a variety of shapes and sizes. That we should never assume that a three-point plan will get the project to completion. Sometimes, you need that fourth point.

As you move about this whirling, swirling sphere of motherhood, try to remain patient with your young ones underfoot. Some are too hungry or too excited to listen. Two-year-olds have tantrums to get attention. Some are hormone-impaired. They break curfew, sneak out of the house, and assume that all movies playing at the theatre are just fine by you. Some have an "in one ear and out the other" modus operandi. They didn't hear it, didn't see it, didn't do it. "Not me" did it. (Does "Not me" live at your house like he does at mine?)

Be patient. Be calm. Keep parenting. Motherhood can be particularly discouraging. I've been discouraged a lot lately by my own kids failing to do the things they've been taught-over and over again-to do. Laundry lies on bedroom and bathroom floors rather than in the central hamper; dirty dishes stand stagnant on bedroom desks and basement tray tables rather than freshly cleaned in dish drainers; beds display crumpled sheets rather than ones properly tucked in. It's not like my kids don't know how to do this stuff. I've patiently-and repeatedly!!-taught them how to pick up what's dropped, clean what's dirty, and fix what's broken.But kids are still in development mode. And they will move forward one minute only to move backwards the next. And then they'll step sideways for a day before they sprint ahead for a week. I suspect we'll all find-one day-that they'll turn out just fine. Not necessarily because of our efforts in parenting. But in spite of them.

So move onward and upward. Stay the course. Parenting is not for cowards. Be in-your-face when you need to be. And relaxed when that's the right response.

Wishing you patience for the week ahead! Carolina

A Nick Note

Nick's counts were high enough last week to go to school but too low to start the next round of chemo as planned. So he had the week off. He was thrilled to get to school everyday and get up to speed with his workload there. Spending time in class with his friends was especially satisfying; being able to enjoy his normal routine always lifts his spirits. We were all thankful for the break, and used the opportunity to get caught up in all the things which have fallen behind around here. He starts the next round Wednesday. Please keep his endurance and stamina in your prayers, as well as his complete and total physical healing.