My son is learning human anatomy in school. Last week they had a project - to research a part of the body and present the results to their peers and parents. Today, I was there to listen to their presentations. There were 10 eye, 8 ear, 3 bones, and 2 cancer presentations. I was there to listen. Next week, they start puberty education. Yesterday, the specialist the school hired to teach it was giving a lecture to the parents. I was there. I know I am going to be bombarded with questions all week, and I need to be ready for a counter-attack.
Being there. Isn't it the main purpose of parenthood? Sure, you think your purpose is to guide, to teach, to control. But it all starts with being there. Being there when they are born. Being there and holding their hand the first day you bring them to daycare, when they are crying their eyes out. Being there for the first day of Kindergarten, when you are crying your eyes out. Being there when they read their first word, to congratulate them. Being there for their first competition, be it gymnastics or a soccer game, to tell them they did great no matter if they won or lost. When the question "where do babies come from" pops in their mind - being there with the answer before an older and wiser best friend or a sibling. Being there through the rebellious teenage years, when they try to push you away. Don't go. Stay there. It's your job. No matter how old they are. No matter how old you are.
Every time my parents were there for me, I remember it and appreciate it. Every time they weren't when I needed them, I remember it too, and I hold a grudge. I can't help it. And I wonder - am I there always when my kids need me? Because they don't always tell you. It's your job to know when to be there - when to offer a guidance, a helping hand, some attention, or when to just be. No matter what else goes on in your life - your job, your partner, your friends - being there for your kids is the most rewarding thing in the world.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
More success with less stress
This was the name of the lecture I attended yesterday. It was presented in our school, and I thought it was meant especially for me because since the first days of my parenthood I've struggled with the problem of how to realize all my kids' potentials with as little stress on them as possible. Apparently, so far I have failed.
When I mentioned this lecture to my older son the other day, he said: "Why are you going? If you come back and make me quit my activities, I am going to hate you for this." It wasn't my intention to make him quit any of his activities. Rather, my intention was to make sure that I don't give in to his requests to sign him up for the school soccer team, in addition to what he is already doing - gymnastics 3 times a week, chess 2 times a week, extra-curricular assignments in school and my feeble attempts of doing some Russian grammar on Wednesdays when we have some free time after school. But my son knew me better than I did. I came back from the lecture with the full intention to take him out of gymnastics.
He has been doing gymnastics for over a year now. He was promoted to the team just the other month. He was so excited! Watching his younger brother compete, he was wondering when his first competition would be (which it wouldn't be until next year). He was really getting excited about his progress in gymnastics, and now I am about to make him quit.
I don't know why I let him go to the team in the first place. When Alex started gymnastics (or, rather, returned to it after a long break), it was not because we wanted him to compete or become great at it. It was because he needed more exercise and more physical strength. This was a great sport to achieve it. He was one of the oldest in his group, and we never thought that he would get ahead, beyond recreational level. I don't know why they talked us into taking it twice a week, then 2 hrs per practice instead of one, then 2.5 hrs, and recently they promoted him to the team and added a Saturday practice. As a result, twice a week my son was out of the house from 8am to 8.30pm without a break for rest or a decent meal. The homework was done at 5.30 in the morning because Alex is not the kind of child who would go to school without his homework. I don't know why I was going along with it. I guess I was excited too about my son's progress in gymnastics. Sometimes our pride and our ambition about our kids' success makes us forget all common sense. It was easy to see that this schedule was totally out of control, but somehow I never could bring myself to cut some of the activities. I guess the lecture was the straw that broke the camel's back.
A friend wrote to me that I shouldn't pay too much attention to the lectures. I should know my child, she said, and by his behavior I should be able to tell if he is under strain, or the schedule is working well for him no matter how crazy it seems. I agree with that, only it's not that easy. If a child often misbehaves, is aggressive toward his brother, and even shows signs of bullying behavior toward a classmate (something I in my wildest dreams not seen my son ever doing) - is it a result of his childish desire to push the limits, puberty approaching, or a sleep deprivation? How could you tell? According to the speaker, all of these can be easily caused by lack of sleep.
Now, after I endure ever-satisfying talk with the gym manager about the Stanford scholarship we are giving up, I have a task of finding a sport that will be as challenging and satisfying for Alex as gymnastics have been, and will also fit our schedule. I also have a task of persuading my son that gymnastics has probably been doing more harm than good for him lately, that it's good to try something new, and it's ok to give up the dream of competing - he probably wouldn't have won any medals anyway. He wasn't that good at gymnastics afterall, there are other kids who are much younger and better. He would just be putting himself through more stress. And we don't want stress. That's the point.
When I mentioned this lecture to my older son the other day, he said: "Why are you going? If you come back and make me quit my activities, I am going to hate you for this." It wasn't my intention to make him quit any of his activities. Rather, my intention was to make sure that I don't give in to his requests to sign him up for the school soccer team, in addition to what he is already doing - gymnastics 3 times a week, chess 2 times a week, extra-curricular assignments in school and my feeble attempts of doing some Russian grammar on Wednesdays when we have some free time after school. But my son knew me better than I did. I came back from the lecture with the full intention to take him out of gymnastics.
He has been doing gymnastics for over a year now. He was promoted to the team just the other month. He was so excited! Watching his younger brother compete, he was wondering when his first competition would be (which it wouldn't be until next year). He was really getting excited about his progress in gymnastics, and now I am about to make him quit.
I don't know why I let him go to the team in the first place. When Alex started gymnastics (or, rather, returned to it after a long break), it was not because we wanted him to compete or become great at it. It was because he needed more exercise and more physical strength. This was a great sport to achieve it. He was one of the oldest in his group, and we never thought that he would get ahead, beyond recreational level. I don't know why they talked us into taking it twice a week, then 2 hrs per practice instead of one, then 2.5 hrs, and recently they promoted him to the team and added a Saturday practice. As a result, twice a week my son was out of the house from 8am to 8.30pm without a break for rest or a decent meal. The homework was done at 5.30 in the morning because Alex is not the kind of child who would go to school without his homework. I don't know why I was going along with it. I guess I was excited too about my son's progress in gymnastics. Sometimes our pride and our ambition about our kids' success makes us forget all common sense. It was easy to see that this schedule was totally out of control, but somehow I never could bring myself to cut some of the activities. I guess the lecture was the straw that broke the camel's back.
A friend wrote to me that I shouldn't pay too much attention to the lectures. I should know my child, she said, and by his behavior I should be able to tell if he is under strain, or the schedule is working well for him no matter how crazy it seems. I agree with that, only it's not that easy. If a child often misbehaves, is aggressive toward his brother, and even shows signs of bullying behavior toward a classmate (something I in my wildest dreams not seen my son ever doing) - is it a result of his childish desire to push the limits, puberty approaching, or a sleep deprivation? How could you tell? According to the speaker, all of these can be easily caused by lack of sleep.
Now, after I endure ever-satisfying talk with the gym manager about the Stanford scholarship we are giving up, I have a task of finding a sport that will be as challenging and satisfying for Alex as gymnastics have been, and will also fit our schedule. I also have a task of persuading my son that gymnastics has probably been doing more harm than good for him lately, that it's good to try something new, and it's ok to give up the dream of competing - he probably wouldn't have won any medals anyway. He wasn't that good at gymnastics afterall, there are other kids who are much younger and better. He would just be putting himself through more stress. And we don't want stress. That's the point.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
