Thursday, February 16, 2012

Color House Day 2012


Competition. Some people think it's healthy. Others think it's destructive and unfair. There's nothing like parenting to work through one's own views.

Who hasn't felt the pain of losing, and of being left out? Whose joy of a thing hasn't been marred if not outright killed by rejection and criticism?

Perhaps all those younger folks? The ones who received trophies for participating and everyone's a winner?

Even with the last twenty or so years of sensitivity to the least of us, the U.S. is still competitive. It is still loud and proud, and it's in my veins. The elation I feel at winning - it's in the gut and shamefully hard to suppress. When I score in ultimate, I prance. When I win at cards, I work to suppress my smirk.

When I see my son taking the lead in a race? I'm hysterical inside. There appear to be no other parents at HIS elementary (other than my husband) who care half as much as we do. For example, I am the only one cheering. Or maybe I'm so loud I don't hear the others? No. The others are having conversations and not even paying attention. The race is on, people!

I'm torn, though. Live and let live? To each his own? We should not judge ourselves against others. We should celebrate effort. It's a beautiful thing to see everyone try to be their best. Is it then competition with self that's healthy? Be all that you can be. Or be a failure?

Miles is funny. The way I understand it: he's so competitive he won't compete. He can't stand not being the best, so he won't even participate in a sport. We have been trying to talk him out of these irrational expectations and get him to just enjoy play. But his anxiety is so intense that we are only pushing him slightly. I'm afraid if we push too hard now (age 7), he will permanently place himself in the "not-a-jock" camp, which would be a loss.

That said, I was not going to let him get away with not participating in the big run on Color House Day this year. He insisted all week, he wasn't going to do it.

When do you, as a parent, sit back and not say anything, and when do you use an opportunity to teach an important lesson? If I preached, he argued back. If I let the day sneak up on us, he likely would have gotten on with it without much fuss. But of course, I couldn't say nothing.

It was the last event of the day, and he literally tried to sneak away. I silently (by that point) walked him back and told him he had to stay with his class, and between the teacher saying everybody had to do it and David saying, just run, even if it's not your fastest run, Miles managed to pull it together. He made a point of not trying at first, but then he couldn't help himself, and he finished strong in third place.

I was extremely proud of him for not giving up before he even tried, and he was proud of himself. Whew.


Sunday, February 12, 2012

Remembering Eliza

Yesterday I read something I'd written about Eliza when she was a baby. Like most parents, I've forgotten most of it. There are the photos and a few videos, but in writing I'd captured something else - how things used to be - Eliza's baby personality, her delicious baby gestures, baby emotions and her relationship with us.

Amman, Jordan - January 2008
Eliza is so different now. She is a little girl with her fashion sensibility, her love for drama, and her interest in animals. She interacts with the world and us in a totally different way. What had been subtle, inarticulate baby behaviors - sitting content in my lap during coffee conversations with other moms or laughter at the rough play with her brother or continuous babble before she knew more than a few words - developed into interest in going out and socializing, a degree of spiritedness to match her brother's intensity and (no surprise in this family) loquaciousness.

Harare, Zimbabwe - January 2012
Remembering Eliza the baby made me remember loving her then, as she was then, and as much as I love her now, I can't help but be a bit heart broken at not having baby Eliza anymore.

Sunday morning fashions
bats in pjs
rolling in the deeeeep! you had my heart insiiiiiide your hands!
#1 bee in the school musical
more weekend dress up
trying to hang earrings on unpierced ears

this is getting boring, mom.