While channel surfing last night, we stumbled across a show called "Kids By the Dozen." Featured last night was a ridiculously wholesome family from Minnesota with SIXTEEN kids, ranging from about 27 to about 4. The kids were polite, well-behaved, helpful. There was no yelling (by the parents, that is). Quotes included one from an 18ish boy, "The thing I miss most about being away from home is playing with my younger brothers and sisters." Oh, and of course, they homeschool them, too.
Wow. We were feeling pretty down on our parenting skills, since managing TWO does not come easily on many days. Why are we such slackers, complaining about how busy we are, yelling at the kids, etc.? Man, we stink!
The show ended and, egos in the toilet, we resumed surfing. And there, just in the nick of time, was SuperNanny featuring a totally out-of-control family with wild, disrespectful, obnoxious children -- who didn't get that way by themselves, thankyouverymuch. Suddenly, we felt like Parenting Hall of Famers, with polite, well-behaved, helpful children and (comparatively) no yelling.
Our confidence restored, we were able to go to bed secure in the knowledge that, on balance, we're doing a pretty damn fine job. Thanks, SuperNanny. Oh, and kudos to you huge, wholesome family. I sure couldn't do what you do.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
The Way Life Should Be
We are recently back from a 2 week vacation in my home state of Maine. It was simply glorious, the kind of time when family memories are made and one's spirit is renewed. We spent part of the visit staying with my mom, but the bulk of the time was spent at my family's tiny cottage on a lake near Acadia National Park.
The lake was unusually quiet this year -- fewer boaters, mercifully few jet-skis, and only a couple of float planes. We did our best to make up for it, with two loud, crazy kids living each day for all it was worth. Swimming, tooling around the lake in our transom canoe (with zippy 6 horsepower motor!), throwing rocks into the lake (with every splash, I heard my grandfather's voice, "Stop throwing those cussid rocks in the lake!).
Vacation was also a time to do some personal stretching. I have an aversion to failure and to making a fool of myself that has plagued me all my life. The result is that I am reluctant to try new things, particularly ones that I'm not likely to master instantaneously. I've visited this lake every summer of my life, but had never attempted to waterski. I've been the spotter, the on-shore cheerleader, the ski strapper-on-er, but never the one on skis. Too chicken, too afraid of failing and looking foolish.
Not this year. On New Years Eve, I resolved I would get up on skis in 2007. And I did! It took 3 days and more than a dozen attempts, but I earned the thrill of gliding over the glassy surface of the lake, hair flying, spray splashing. It was exhilarating, and I'm kicking myself for missing out on it for the past 3 decades. I also found that though my failures were spectacular, they were also really fun. Each attempt brought cheers and encouragement from my family. There was no mockery, no shame, no derision. It was a good reminder that life is not a spectator sport.
The lake was unusually quiet this year -- fewer boaters, mercifully few jet-skis, and only a couple of float planes. We did our best to make up for it, with two loud, crazy kids living each day for all it was worth. Swimming, tooling around the lake in our transom canoe (with zippy 6 horsepower motor!), throwing rocks into the lake (with every splash, I heard my grandfather's voice, "Stop throwing those cussid rocks in the lake!).
Vacation was also a time to do some personal stretching. I have an aversion to failure and to making a fool of myself that has plagued me all my life. The result is that I am reluctant to try new things, particularly ones that I'm not likely to master instantaneously. I've visited this lake every summer of my life, but had never attempted to waterski. I've been the spotter, the on-shore cheerleader, the ski strapper-on-er, but never the one on skis. Too chicken, too afraid of failing and looking foolish.
Not this year. On New Years Eve, I resolved I would get up on skis in 2007. And I did! It took 3 days and more than a dozen attempts, but I earned the thrill of gliding over the glassy surface of the lake, hair flying, spray splashing. It was exhilarating, and I'm kicking myself for missing out on it for the past 3 decades. I also found that though my failures were spectacular, they were also really fun. Each attempt brought cheers and encouragement from my family. There was no mockery, no shame, no derision. It was a good reminder that life is not a spectator sport.
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