A Prescription for Inscription

Having kids is great. Especially if you like having a mirror held up in front of your face while you live life. The mirror image of what I say and how I act comes out in the words and behaviors of my kids. The images are particularly clear nowadays since Elijah is in the 5 year old super-literal phase and Andi is a vivacious communicator, ever ready to showcase any and all emotions so as to alert all others to the absolute ends of the spectrum of what one might possibly feel during any circumstance, mundane (can’t tear out a piece of paper) to extraordinary (“My ear is not working!”).

I digress a bit.

I like teaching. I myself love learning- taking information and turning new knowledge into transformation best I can. I also love teaching others. When I see my kids taking something we have taught them, deliberately or not, it’s mostly very exciting.

What follows is one example of what our kids have picked up on semantically by being in our family, and one example of a very deliberate lesson we are thrilled to see them implementing in their own lives, all by their little selves.

1. Into the environment of babes…out of the mouth of babes:

I heard Andi spontaneously crying in her room yesterday morning. I let it go for a bit thinking the Barbi would probably be found, the game would be turned back over and righted after a tumble from the closet, or she’d pull hard enough to get the shirt over her pigtails. I finally called from the kitchen, “What’s going on?”. Eli had been in the room with Andi and promptly arrived in the kitchen to report, “She doesn’t know what the trouble is Mom.”

This I recognized right away. When I come upon my kids as they are squabbling or fussing, I often say, “What’s the trouble?” or “What’s your trouble?”  The other question could be, “What’s wrong?” but I usually use “What’s the trouble?”. Yesterday morning, Eli had gone to see about screaming Andi and asked, “What’s the trouble?”. I’m assuming she replied, “I don’t know!” at which point he came to report to me, “She doesn’t know what the trouble is.” We would find out 36 hours later, the trouble was probably an ear infection, tearing apart her tolerance and tormenting her poor little body, but at the time, we dealt best we could even if no one quite knew the name of the trouble.

2. Passing on wisdom, life-lessons and hopefully a bit of Christ-likeness:

During an assignment at Castaway Club in 2010, I met a great family with three kids. I took from them a great bit of parenting wisdom and Christian theology and have tweaked it to be my own. The background is this: 1. Kids have a hard time sharing. 2. To solve a sharing problem, it sometimes helps to know who owns the item or the turn. 3. Sharing is a solid thing to do and should be taught to kids at a young age with relevant pedagogy.

About 2 years ago, Elijah and Andi started all-out sibling scuffs. They began to care about the same stuff and having it at the same time. They share a room and a dresser and a closet and most toys, but trouble began to brew. I entered into a heated discussion, of “It’s my ladder!”, “No it’s my ladder!” one day and dropped the stewardship bomb on my unsuspecting wee ones. I reminded Eli and Andi that we talk about God as the One who created everything and the One who gives us everything we need. They nodded. I then said, “Well that means that God owns everything. Everything in the world is God’s. What we have, we’ve received from God. Everything we have is a gift. It’s our job then, to take care of our stuff or share it”

In short form, it’s like this:

Me:”E and A, who really owns that ladder?”

E or A: “God”

Me: “So what’s your job?”

E or A: “To take care of it and share it”

They caught on pretty quick. Now, it’s put into action far more often by the two of them than by Drew or me. The other day I heard Eli tell Andi to put something in his room. She said, “It’s my room too Eli. Actually, it’s God’s room, and we share it”. Again later, I asked if they wanted to play Andi’s new game, “It’s God’s game Mommy. We take care of it”.

There are sharing struggles almost daily around our house, tranquility and selflessness evade us most days. However, the teaching is sticking somewhere in there and I can only hope they grow up to steward all their gifts with a mentality that what they have is not truly their own, and that they are indebted to take thoughtful care and intentionally share with the people and the world around them, even if, and especially when, it’s uncomfortable. Of course, every time I teach this lesson or hear it happening in the next room, I’m reminding myself of my need to grow, care, and share more faithfully.

These are constructive times. My 5 year old son says 10 times a day, “Let’s make our own…worlds of fun, dessert, soap, Powerade, medicine, engine, flying airplane, rocket, parachute and much more…” He currently has an insatiable hunger for invention, science, process, and to tangibly work on recreating what he sees in the world around him, or something brand new. There is no limit to his imagination. I am amazed and in awe of how consistent this desire to create comes through everyday.

I wrote in our Christmas card that he likes to “create something out of nothing”. Components of “nothing” include:

-water bottles (Dasani, Deja Blue) he finds while crawling underneath bleachers or church pews- we can only hope people were done with these and they the owners of the bottles have no communicable disease.

-stringy things: bungee cords, string, yarn, floss, cords pulled out of hoodies, shoelaces

-boxes- shoe boxes, tea  boxes, plastic toy totes

-ingredients for greatness- food coloring, lemon juice, soy sauce, ice cubes, scissors for cutting up vegetables or other food items if creating=cooking

-from the outdoor category: sticks, sticks, sticks, dirt, mud, grass, rocks, trees

-constantly re-purposed actual items: Tinker Toys, Trio Blocks, cars, old pieces of car track, hangers, carabiners, Nerf guns, drumsticks, Kleenxes

Here are a couple recent inventions:

A creation from January 2012

This is a track from way back- probably 2010

I wish I could say I’m a mom who has fully embraced all of this creative energy but the reality is, at times, I’m too pragmatic, I’ll worry about the mess, I’ll have nothing to say to encourage the idea because I know it actually isn’t possible.

Herein lies the problem- what do I do to balance my realism with his imagination? With my responsibility to do my work for work or around the house, and be his mom and keep him safe, while still allowing him to dream and create?  How do I uphold what I want to encourage and nurture and celebrate- the imagination of a child– and still air my struggles of not knowing how to embrace or enter into all of the inventions. I am so practical. He is so persistent. He has a drive and a limitless energy to MAKE and BUILD and I have a limited adult imagination and a control problem.

When I sat down with Eli’s “my invention” the other day to work on the engine, to tie knots he needed, and to witness a few launches, I was interested. I was proud of him. I was impressed with the intricacies of the bungee cord tie downs and the  floss weave (too small to see in the picture). I stifled most of my desires to ask what things were and whether or not it was working and to just watch him work and be there if needed me.

I still don’t know what to say when he says, “Let’s make our own amusement park” out of the dirt in the backyard. Luckily yesterday a neighbor girl showed up to enter in so I didn’t even have to say, “It’s not really possible” or “No you can’t turn on the hose”.

I preach imagination as necessary for our spiritual lives and relationship with an unfathomable God. I affirm child-like wonder and dreaming as an asset for adults in their vocations. And yet, when it’s happening in my home, I don’t know how to handle it, affirm it, or sometimes even, to not be annoyed by it.

I hope Eli can forgive me for the times I have shot down his ideas, for the ways I have limited his creative process on a Tuesday afternoon. I hope he remembers the times we did all cheer for the way a drumstick flew across the living room or a bouncy ball ricocheted off the opposite wall. I also hope he will never, ever lose the drive he has to imagine and persistently pursue what he might make if he works with what’s right in front of him.