Raising Them to Fly

How many of you out there have kicked yourself (mentally, of course) because your kid/s did something really cute or funny that was so cute or funny that you were sure you’d never forget it? There’s only one example that I still remember clearly and that’s only because I shared it several times after it happened. Of course, it isn’t nearly as funny as the times I wish I could remember! I will change the names in the retelling, but the memory is otherwise intact.

I remember we were getting ready to go somewhere. It was summertime. Most of the kids were dressed and ready to go, lingering about the house or on the front porch, waiting for the rest of us. I was in the middle of some usual child’s trauma – couldn’t find their shoes, most likely – when one of the younger kids, we’ll call him Fred, came in from the porch and said, “Colleen (I was mom and stepmom), Ron said I can’t wear a shirt with flowers all over it, cause the bees will come after me.” While I was sure Ron was trying to pull Fred’s leg, Fred did have a very tropical-looking shirt on, which might well have attracted some bees. Before I could reply, I hear my fourteen-year-old daughter tell Fred, “Fred, tell Ron, he’s full of bull.” So, instead of speaking to the young one about bees and shirts with flowers, I find myself telling the teenager that one should not tell a young child to say “bull” (short version of “bullshit” of course). Meanwhile, Fred has gone back out on the porch, and I hear his young voice in the background saying, “Ron, stop being a bull.” Kids.

The memory always brings a smile to my face and a wistful wish that I’d had the time to write down every single funny moment with the kids. Some of them were honestly hilarious.

Then there are the endearing moments that make you think about the perspective of children, the way they see things – innocent, taking it all in, trying to figure things out. Sometimes with potentially embarrassing moments for a parent when a child says it in public in regard to total strangers. Like when my brother at about age three saw dark skinned people for the first time. It was in a grocery store. My mother will tell you she was sure they were Watutsi* because they were the tallest people she had ever seen. My wee brother pointed and said, “Look at the chocolate people!” Apparently, even at that age we knew about chocolate. However, we lived in a small town settled by light skinned people (Scandinavian, Polish, Irish and German immigrants - originally Ottawa*), and although my mother fiercely taught us that skin color doesn’t matter, hearts and actions do, we were exposed to very few people from dark skinned ethnic groups in those days. It was obvious the tall couple had heard my brother’s cute conclusion, and my mother at first a little embarrassed was put at ease when she saw them smile. They were clearly accepting of a toddler’s perception.

One of our son’s has a family of four boys and the youngest of these grandsons, when he was about 2½, was sitting at the table with a plate of food I had just put in front of him. With an intense look on his face, he was trying to say something, but it was too garbled to understand. After several tries, I finally realized he was pointing to the plate and saying, “That Juddy’s?” (His nickname.) I tell him, yes, so he happily starts eating. A few minutes later I hear grandpa asking him what his name is. He is very determined that his name is “baby”. No argument allowed. Grandpa gave up.

Fast forward one year and Juddy is now determined that he is NOT a baby – (how quickly they want to be one of the big kids), even though he refuses to learn how to use a toilet. Lol, they’ll have a fun time raising this stubborn little man.

Then there’s the starter words. Basketti for spaghetti, dumpa for grandpa, and occasionally there’s a child who can make up a really great replacement word that almost everyone remembers like one of my sisters did. She called watermelon melly-wampum.

Kids say the best stuff. They’re learning and figuring things out, and sometimes it’s a trial-and-error process. And, in this day and age especially when children have so much they tend to feel entitled, sometimes it’s hard being a parent, but do enjoy your children. Look for the fun, the funny, the tenderhearted, the giving moments. They’ll come, but you need to listen and watch for them. Don’t just notice the struggle, the negative, the “you’re doing it wrong” or “you’re in trouble” moments. See the beauty of a life in the caterpillar stage, struggling to exist, to build its cocoon, so they can grow wings and one day be able to fly solo with joy, peace, and a knowledge of their worth. Not perfection, but worth.

*The Tutsi, (or Abatutsi or Watusi) tribe is from the African Great Lake region. The average height of the Watusi tribe men is generally seven to eight feet.

* About 15 Odawa (Ottawa) villages ran along Lake Michigan shores, one of which was Manistee. Named from an Ojibwe word for the principal county river. The name origin is not certain, but it may be from ministigweyaa, "river with islands at its mouth". Other sources say it was an Ojibwe term meaning "spirit of the woods". Manistee was in fact part of an area designated as an Odawa Reservation from 1836 to 1848. In 1841, John Stronach set up the first sawmill, which set Manistee on course to today’s small city.