Giving is not only hard to do, but even more challenging to teach; and when the giving is to get something in return...is this truly unselfish? Maybe it depends on what you're after--altruism is in the heart of the bestow-er? This pattern of reciprocation is evident in my relationship with our three children--from the blatantly obvious deal-making to the more subtle emotional give and take....a hug and kiss from a two year old girl is enough to soften even the stoniest of grumpy dads. I find that as I readily give (not necessarily from the wallet or candy jar, but also of my time and attention during repeated requests for "Dad, watch me!")--I mean, if they don't have to fight for my attention, I less often have to fight for theirs. "Why me" or "I didn't make this mess" is replaced by Cooper with a resounding "you betcha', Dad!", or Aaron's favorite "Okey dokey, artichokey", or Annie's simple, sweet "Sure, Daddy". The more I treat my children like adults, the more they treat me like one. Haha.
Now, I have crossed the line once or twice, because soon my expectations will start to exceed any behaviour that should reasonably be expected from children seven and under. This load is often shouldered by the oldest because, well, he's been around long enough to function independently and contribute just as much as the adults in the family....right? Come on, it's not like he's still potty training--why doesn't he make breakfast for us on Sunday or at least get the kids ready for church?? So I have to be careful, because sometimes in my efforts to treat them as grown-ups, or at least growner-ups, I put too much pressure on their inexperienced shoulders. Add to that my frustration when my explicit instructions are not followed, and now I'm that much further away from the loving reciprocity which was and is my perpetual goal.
It has been far easier for me to divert my simmering frustration than to repair damage done by waiting for it to boil over...and I have surprisingly been able to do this by something as simple as making up a forgotten bed or masterminding a surprise movie night. See, when I do something for my children with the same attitude that I have when planning a date or following the correct laundry rotation parameters (I'm working on it, honey) in order to surprise their mother (you know, the attitude that I like to call the "Christmas Eve Effect," when you almost vibrate in anticipation of the look on their faces)--when I can carry any part of that excitement into re-re-re-folding clean clothes from under the bed, or surprising them with a treat after school, the love I have for them grows, leaving no room in my heart or mind for anything else.
And hugs. Never underestimate the sublime power of those short little arms in the right configuration..."Make it squeezy, Daddy."
Costco has a massive display of flowers, the highlight of which (for Annie) is the wall of roses. Visiting this verdant kiosk is a must for Annie, no matter how focused our purpose or urgent our pace. As I watched her recently, taking time to smell each bouquet that she could reach from her seat in the cart, I was impressed by her enthusiastic sniffing which I openly acknowledge as standard procedure for her and other floral enthusiasts of her age group. She reaches for the flowers, pulls herself face-first into the middle of the arrangement and breathes deeply. This process is repeated each time she finds flowers. Maybe it's the fragrance, or the touch of the petals on her face, or some other reason that is her very own--but as I watch her, I am reminded of the aphorism "stopping to smell the roses" and realize that it's not just the stopping that is important, but the way we do the smelling. If our pauses in life to enjoy simple pleasures (kids, nature, sleep) are approached the same way we tackle a work or school or household project--you know, with a feeling of necessity and a tangible deadline--we remove both the "simple" and the "pleasure" from the whole equation. How do I smell flowers? Well, I don't mind getting close, but I definitely don't use my whole face. And I'm a short sniffer, you know, just in case there's a bug in there--that way, it won't get very far...
Don't get me wrong--I realize that taking time to enjoy the beauties of this world often requires some scheduling and time-juggling. But we have to be aware of our attitude; for example, spending time with the family at the lake or the park or the kitchen table should be done without the ever-present mindset that we have to "get this over with" so that we can move on to the next important task that has really been on our mind the whole time. Think--when was the last time you were able to effectively engage in and complete a task at work, home or school without constantly being distracted by thoughts of your family or your recreational pursuits? Now, shouldn't that same attention be given to those things that balance us--physically, mentally and spiritually? Easier said than done, I'm afraid...but the far-reaching effects are well worth the effort.
