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January 06, 2010
Running Club
Today was the first day of Running Club, which meant that I had to get Lucas to school early so he could spend a half hour running in circles around the gym. We started our morning the usual way, reading Harry Potter--the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, to be exact (poor Frank!). After that our pre-Running Club run began. I took a shower, got dressed, and then launched into the kitchen to get breakfast. Lucas decided on grapefruit, and since we were in a time crunch and the dishwasher needed emptying, I put away dishes while having him do the prep work on the grapefruit (get the grapefruit out of the fridge, take the sticker off, wash it, dry it).
That’s when I had one of those moments.
Last year, I had one of those moments one morning when we were making pancakes. It came time to break and separate the egg yolks from the whites—something I had always done because Lucas has trouble breaking them, so much as going the extra mile to separate them—when I realized that the only way Lucas was ever going to learn how to crack eggs or separate eggs was if someone gave him the opportunity to ruin a bunch of eggs. I mean, *I* ruin the eggs sometimes. Why was I so worried about him doing it? It turned out to be a teachable moment for both of us. He’s still not adept with eggs, but that morning he did, in fact, crack one cleanly and begin to separate it on his own.
This morning, what I realized was that there was no earthly reason Lucas should not be able to cut that grapefruit in half himself, other than the fact that no one has given him a sharp knife.
This is probably the time when I should admit to you that my efforts to teach Lucas how to use a butter knife to cut his pancakes are not going particularly well. He still struggles. So what made me think this was a good idea? I don’t know. I am worried lately about middle school, which he starts next year. This school year is almost half over already, and I feel like middle school is when he’s going to start breaking out of the confines of the controlled little world we’ve been keeping him in. I want him to be prepared. Knife skills seem essential. Certainly I could be trusted with a sharp knife at his age. I started using sharp knives when I started ordering prime ribs in restaurants, when I was about eight or nine. Lucas is accident-prone, of course, but so am I. You have to figure that out.
So I made this crazy snap decision and said, “You know, you can do this.”
I grabbed a plate and a sharp knife, and Lucas’s eyes got pretty big. I showed him how to hold the grapefruit so as to keep it steady while also keeping his hand out of harm’s way. I explained to him how it’s actually more dangerous to use a dull knife than a sharp one because dull ones don’t stay where you want them. I told him he had to go slow and pay attention. I started cutting the grapefruit and then handed the project over to him.
This is when years of pretending like stuff doesn’t really matter pays off. I kept a close eye on him while I was putting away the last few dishes, shooting off little bits of cheerful advice and encouragement. It took him a very long minute to cut that grapefruit in half, but he did, in fact, cut the grapefruit in half.
And nothing else.
After breakfast, we found we were—amazingly!—ready to leave a little early, so we sat down in the living room. In the rush of getting breakfast, I’d noticed that my world had gone a little bizarro. Things were close to where I’d put them, but not quite. I wondered if I was imagining it. I wondered if my father-in-law had been moving my stuff around when he was here last night. It was a little annoying, to tell you the truth. When I sat down in the living room, though, I noticed a pattern. If you’ve been to my house (or even my office), you know I always have this and that sitting around—letters, newspapers, magazines, books. It’s a professional hazard. Anyway, what I noticed is that everything was in neat piles. My house looked quite as good as it ever does.
And that’s when I realized it was Lucas. He neatened up my house while I was in the shower. He didn’t even say anything about it, just did this extraordinarily kind thing instead of, you know, whatever else he might have done. I tell parents all the time that their children do not gain skills on a nice continuous line. Progress requires steady work, but the results come in rapid jumps and followed by plateaus. Today I thought not for the first time that sometimes this isn’t about the kids—it’s about we adults who care for them. Sometimes we forget to see them growing, we forget to give them opportunities, we forget to challenge them to show us what they can do.
Between that and the return of Voldemort, it was kind of an intense morning.
Posted by adrienne at January 6, 2010 09:37 AM
Comments
I love this post, Adrienne.
Posted by: Deb at January 6, 2010 10:39 AM
There is always that tension between wanting the child to be safe and yet(hopefully)wanting to help the child grow.It doesn't matter at all what age the child is.Sounds like you and Lucas had a very exciting morning :-)Glad all went well!
Posted by: momster at January 6, 2010 12:13 PM
Hey thanks for your recent comment on my blog about meditating. I really want to get started. How did you? Can you recommend any CDs or books? Email me if you like ewers.cheryl@gmail.com
Thanks!!
Posted by: cheryl at January 6, 2010 02:45 PM
Deb, Thanks. Sometimes life just hands you something.
Momster, Me, too. Lucas seemed proud of all his work this morning.
Cheryl, I will email! One of my favorite topics.
Posted by: adrienne at January 6, 2010 08:23 PM
Oh, Adrienne, you're so right. My Mom has this thing she does with her kids (she's an early childhood teacher) where she tells them "Hey! I caught you doing well!" -- it really helps you to remember that they can do things right, and that they DO grow and change in a positive direction.
Posted by: tanita at January 8, 2010 02:24 AM
Every time you talk about your mother, Tanita, she sounds wise, and I love that phrasing. I really remember what it was like to be small and worry that I didn't know how to do anything right. Probably because it just happened, like, the other day.
Posted by: adrienne at January 8, 2010 07:28 AM
I needed to read this. I need to be reminded of this. Often.
Posted by: Jules at January 8, 2010 10:11 AM
I do, too, I think.
Posted by: adrienne at January 8, 2010 12:15 PM
This is very helpful for me. I am trying to teach my 6 year old daughter to cut her pancakes with a butter-knife. She's used a sharper knife sometimes, but with my hand over hers. Sometimes I have to remind myself that there's no rush, no "You won't get to go to first grade if you can't cut your own pancakes" judge waiting in the wings.
Posted by: Saints and Spinners at January 8, 2010 08:31 PM
The knife part was scary. I would like to point out just like the seat belt thing when he was little, remember when he accidentally admitted he could buckle himself and then silently cursed himself and tried to backtrack, any way he does not admit to nor offer up any of these skills when he is with me. More proof I just need to let these boys do more for themselves. No knives for Max that would be terrifying.
Lucas does do his own laundry now so I guess I am moving in the right direction.
Posted by: tonderdo at January 8, 2010 09:55 PM
Oh my goodness, Adrienne. Here it is, Saturday morning, I'm just going about my business catching up on blog reading and you've wallopped me. Tears and all. This is so moving to me. I was not a kid allowed to do much in the way of mucking around the kitchen -- and when I did it usually wasn't "right" -- and I try try try to remember this as a mom. To make space for the girls to grow into themselves. But of course I get all bossy/controlly sometimes too and this is the most beautiful reminder. Thank you...
Posted by: Liz in Ink at January 9, 2010 09:14 AM
Farida, I should have started Lucas with the butter knife long ago. Sometimes these things just don't occur to me.
Tam, Ha, ha, yeah, by the way, I've been meaning to tell you that I let Lucas use a sharp knife the other morning. See how he still has all his fingers? Cool. Yeah. :)
I have more energy to put into these risks than you do, I think.
Liz, Ditto with the I-think-I-have-more-energy-for-this thing. Being a parent 24/7 is overwhelming. I get to spend these pieces of focused time with them, so it's way easier to take a deep breath and try things like this. I think that's one reason it can be so beneficial for kids to have time with (trustworthy!) non-parental adults and even teens (babysitters and whatnot). These people have whole different perspectives and energy levels.
Posted by: adrienne at January 9, 2010 10:34 AM
Tammy,you are a wonderful mom to your boys!
Posted by: momster at January 10, 2010 04:17 PM
That she is, AND a wonderful friend to boot! :)
Posted by: adrienne at January 10, 2010 06:05 PM
You and Tammy have the type of friendship that books are written about:-)Wonderful to see!
Posted by: momster at January 10, 2010 07:45 PM