When he was small, my youngest son had a habit of filling his pockets with treasures he encountered in his daily adventures. I didn't always understand the value he saw in his chosen objects -- really, how many rocks and sticks could one boy keep? In his eyes, though, each one was beautiful and important. Life is just like that on a larger scale, isn't it? We gather up the precious bits of our experiences and save them all to learn from and enjoy later. Perhaps you'll find a little something here that you'd like to keep in your own pockets. Thanks for visiting.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Give up! (but don't)

 
 
A friend recently posted this little card on Facebook and I had to laugh, because it perfectly captures how I feel sometimes when I am exasperated with a certain fiery eight year old boy who never tires of trying to prove that he's right.  I've realized that it's easy to see determination, persistence, and having strong convictions as positive qualities when you possess them yourself, but they somehow lose a little of their sparkle once you have a child who exhibits these traits in degrees that match (or exceed) your own!
 
If you count up all of the days we've had snow on the ground so far this winter, and add that number to the number of future days we will have snow on the ground before this winter is over, you will discover the exact number of mornings that Will will have argued with me about why he should not have to wear snow pants to school.  Every.Single.Time he gets ready for school, he runs through 1001 bullet points outlining the utter ridiculousness and uselessness of snow pants as far as he is concerned, and Every.Single.Time, I counter with 1001 points documenting why they are a necessity and an excellent idea this time of year.  This discussion only wraps up because it has to when we reach the school yard, and a disgruntled, snow-pants-wearing Will says good-bye to me, both of us knowing that somehow, we will be having the exact same debate the next morning.  You might say I should just let him not wear snow pants to school, that he would learn he wanted to wear them once he spent a few days being cold and wet, but I can tell you from experience that if I do that, and he falls in the snow and gets cold and wet, he will then present me (in an accusatory tone) with 1001 reasons for why I should have convinced him to wear his snow pants.  There is never any end to anything.
 
I keep telling myself that one day, all of that determination and persistence and all of those strong convictions are going to serve Will well, that when it is time for him to make his own decisions and find his own way in the world, he is going to know who he is and what he wants, and he's going to confidently blaze his own trail to get to where he wants to go.  That single, bright hope is the only thing that will get me through another round of the great snow pants debate tomorrow.... 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


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