Lost in Translation

The scene Monday morning at the breakfast table included a bleary-eyed boy lamenting the list of after school events this week.  Piano Monday, field trip Tuesday, allergy appointment Wednesday, class Thursday, rehearsal Friday.  Which lead to the plea:  “Can’t I skip some?”  Of course, we, as parents, launched into the importance of honoring obligations, fulfilling commitments, blah, blah, blah…it wasn’t until we were well into our diatribe that I realized he doesn’t want to ditch these days, he loves each adventure.  (Well, maybe not the allergy appointment).

And I was struck by the immortal words of Vanilla Ice:  ‘stop, collaborate and listen’.

What was Cole really saying?  On a regular week he has, at most, two after school commitments.  Three additional activities this week were coming together to form the Bermuda triangle of exhaustion.  What he was trying to express was a sense of the too-much-ness.  Having finally caught on to my own misunderstanding, misreading of his intent I asked “are you overwhelmed?”  “Yes.”

Ah, now this, this was a different discussion altogether.  This was a joining of forces, a sharing of strategies.  We articulated our own action plans for when we are overwhelmed:  can we rearrange the events?  can we alter the outcomes?  can we prep for any of the days in advance?  In this case the answers were no, no, no.  So the best we can do is take a deep breath and narrow the focus on the now.  What is on the list for today?  Let the others just be.  Constrict our view and release the future, for worrying can’t change tomorrow, but it can stress us today.

The morning served as a reminder to model our own coping strategies to help build the tools in our son’s tool box.  And today?  He woke up, cheery, eager for the field trip, not at all concerned with the other commitments on the horizon.  As for my future career singing the wisdom-filled lyrics of Vanilla Ice?  Yes, well, I’ll keep you posted.

P*rf#ct!

The single worst word we can say to our children?  Perfect.

Okay, maybe not the single worst word, but definitely one in the top ten.  Why?  Because expectations of perfection linger in their minds well after the seemingly innocuous comment leaves our lips.

Perfect!  When what we mean is – you did something – set the table, made your bed, accomplished your long division, managed to successfully do the laundry, correctly.  Perfect sets the bar higher than any fingertips can reach.  It says we presume that which is beyond human is possible.  It burrows into our subconscious and drives us to the extremes of frenetic, unending work.  Or the inverse, in which we never try to begin with, frozen in place due to the incredible fear of failure.

Many of our children expect perfection the very first time they attempt a new task.  They crumble in despair when they flounder.  We need to help them see that a life filled with trials and errors, ups and downs is a life worth living.  The journey of learning can be filled with its own joy, regardless of the outcome.  Strive for excellence.  Acknowledge failure.  Show your child that…

…you know what? That’s enough.  It is night, and there is a beautiful snowfall happening now that will have melted by morning.  I’m going to go out, lift my face to the heavens, and appreciate the magic.  As for my fall from perfectionism, I’ll keep you posted.

[Here's the irony: I wrote about perfectionism, posted it, and decided to revise most of it.  My recovering type A personality (I think I’ve relaxed myself down to at least an A-), still hears the irresistible, yet unattainable, call of perfectionism.]