It Is a Joy and an Honor to Watch Them Do It

I love observing my children at school. I wasn’t supposed to go today, but this damn sinus thing I’ve been struggling with for the past few days kept me at home. Incidentally, I am still trying to figure out why I allowed my body to succumb to whatever it is that’s taken hold inside of me. It’s obvious that I’m avoiding something. I’ll have to ponder that some more.

The thing I love about watching them is the pure joy I feel when I see them going about their lives, completely independent of me. That means that my children are capable of life without me in it. I know, I know. That sounds morbid. But that’s not how I mean it. What I mean is that my wife and I are successfully raising little people who will grow into big people who will go off into the world to…I don’t know…make it a better place? My dad has said for years that he is proud of the fact that he and my mom have improved the human race with each successive child they have raised. I always thought that was a sweet thing to SAY, but I didn’t understand what he MEANT until I had my own kids. A lot of things your parents said make a heck of a lot more sense once you have your own. Funny how stuff like that works.

When I look at my kids and see them performing perfectly well in their world, I feel peace. A lot of it has to do with the school itself; Montessori schools are dedicated to precisely that kind of independence. Still, this process happens for everyone who has children. Although we are warned over and over again, we tend to forget that our children act differently at home than they do at school. So, when they get all needy and whiny, I probably worry more than I should. If given the opportunity, they can be their own little people at home, too. It’s just that the dynamic inherent in the parent-child relationship sort of undermines that a tad, you know? Even with that, the child lets you know when the time has come to take another step back and give freedom a little more room.

For example, my oldest complained about dinner the other day. It was too spicy or something like that. He asked for a different dinner. I told him, “Sure. Go fix something.” He looked at me as if I had just told him it was time for him to become a man and bring down a deer with his bare hands. “What?” he asked, still unbelieving. “This is your dinner,” my wife said. “If you want something else, you are more than welcome to go find something in the ‘fridge.” So, to shorten the story, he made himself a mean little sunflower butter and jelly sandwich. He was so proud of his creation, that he had one of those ear-to-ear idiotic grins. He sat down so confidently at the table. I smiled at him, he smiled at me. He ate his dinner without a word of complaint.

When I have the chance to watch them at work in their own world at school, where I am the outsider, it gives me peace for their future. They will undoubtedly suffer many hardships and relish in many victories, just as I have, and just as my father did before me. And just as my mother did, too. My brothers have experienced the same. My wife, and her sister. My brother’s wives. And so on.

The point is that they are growing each day. It is a joy and an honor to watch them do it.