Now this hit home…
Source: rebeccaalexis via creatingaquietmind
Tag: Parenting
He’s Gone.
The countdown started on Monday. My first day back from vacation. Rachel is off to school. And three days from an empty nest with Eric packing up for his freshman year. (The short week felt like repeated bouts of getting up quickly from reading on the bed. Disorientation. Stabilization. Disorientation. Stabilization. Grab an arm rail pal. Get a grip. You can’t slow down the clock.)
The Chariot was packed and ready to depart for the 11-hour journey. (No, the King doesn’t pack. The scope of his competency is narrow and deep…and some would argue not that deep. Best for him to stay well out of the way of logistics.)
It was impossible to see out of the side windows. Every square inch of trunk and 1/2 of the back seat was stuffed to the roof top. Changing lanes was a roll of the dice. Normal humans would invest in a car-top carrier, rent a van, or borrow something larger…not this Cat. The $500 expense on top of the college tuition was the tipping point. So, we jammed it all in and off we went.
The King was sitting in a cubby hole behind the driver’s seat. (Oh, what delicious irony. My first memory of Eric was driving him home from the hospital a few days after his birth. I was driving at far less than the speed limit and slipping glances back to see that he was okay.)
The Last Supper.
I was running the rough math in my head. They have been subjected to over 100,000 “course corrections” during their lifetimes.
Wash your hands. Tie your laces. Look people in the eye. Use a firm handshake. Wipe your face. Keep your voice down. Sit up. Comb your hair. Brush your teeth. Pick up your things. Put on clean clothes. Don’t yell. Get along with your Brother. Get along with your Sister. Say please. Say thank you. Say you are sorry. ENOUGH TV. Read. Get to sleep. Go to the bathroom before we leave the house. Enough candy. Do your homework. Plus 1000 others. And, certainly not all of them delivered with finesse or a light touch. When you are molding a sculpture, some rough chops are necessary. And per the King’s rules, as long as the game is played within the fences and by the house rules, all is good.
In the early days, dinner out entertainment included “I Spy.” Coloring books and crayons. Stacking cream containers to see who could make the largest tower. And, guessing how many sugar packets there were in my hand. Our kids would not create havoc for other patrons.
Fast forward 18 years and we’re sitting at dinner last night. Not unlike one of hundreds of Saturday dinners out with our family since they were toddlers. And a mere few days before the nest empties for the first time.
As we were leaving the restaurant, Susan told me that the Gentleman serving us said: “You can imagine that we see all kinds here. I just wanted to tell you that your children are respectful. They say please and thank you. They are so kind.”
100,000 course corrections. Day after day after day. Some of them must have hit the mark.
I dropped my head and turned away. Men don’t cry.
Photo Source: Eric Kanigan
A new day, another miracle. All in the eyes of a boy.
We’ve been hanging (HANGING) since lunch time Friday when Theresa rushed out of the office to the hospital. (HE’S EARLY!)
Well, the stork has arrived. Alexander Salvatore was born at 11:18 pm last night. He came a bit early (6 weeks)… and a bit light (5 lbs, 7 oz) – – and he gave his Mom a tough time of it…however, everyone is just fine. Congratulations Theresa and Dominic! Strap in for the best ride of your life…
A new day has come
Where it was dark now there’s light
Where there was pain now there’s joy
Where there was weakness, I found my strength
All in the eyes of a boy
Success, the drug we can never get enough of…
Drive. Push. Chase. Finish First. Win. Be number one.
Achieve. Acquire another shingle. Another degree. Be the best in your field. In your industry. Be world class.
Learn More. Work harder. Be more. Be exceptional. Be the most you can be.
Set a goal. Pursue it. Achieve it. Exceed it.
Pick any one above and you’ll find my underpinnings. My undercarriage. My foundation.
Yet, this NY Times article Redefining Success and Celebrating the Unremarkable moved me…
…“In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another — which springs, I think, from our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality — we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement,” he told the students and parents. “We have come to see them as the point — and we’re happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that’s the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole…”
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