Most parents, I think, are fairly pleased with their children. I am one of them. The offspring can be surprisingly cute, they're pretty smart (well, mine are--I don't know about yours), they can go and get you things and change the channel for you, and they say funny things sometimes(intentional or otherwise). So don't get me wrong when I say that for the most part, I think I've been sold a bill of goods about kids. I believe that there is an underground organization that dispenses propaganda about the virtues of children. Why? Probably because if we knew the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, we wouldn't have them (or at least not many of them) and then ultimately die out as a species; destroying the plan of salvation in the process.
Sure, I understand that spirits need to come and have bodies and have experience and prove themselves and all that. Heavenly Father probably wants the buggers out of his house, too (in a loving way). But this is above and beyond the "be fruitful and multiply" commandment. Mankind tends to disobey a lot of commandments we don't find comfortable or convenient. I just don't think enough of us would reproduce to the requisite degree if it weren't for the little half-truths or exaggerations or outright fibbing (however benevolent it may be intended) we take in about the wonders of children.
Here are some of the ideas out there that sucked me in...
1) "Saturday's Warriors". Ok, so the idea is that some of the best, most valiant spirits up there have been held back for this time so that they could handle the yuckiness of the last days. So where's all this inherent nobility? If my 5-year-old were an old, wise, noble spirit, he'd be looking at the dinner I just made and think "'twould be a noble thing to eat this apparently indigesible substance, for lo-look there upon my father. Is he not weary? Is he not bedraggled? Has he not prepared this to nourish my mortal frame? And is it not written; 'thou shalt honor thy father'? Therefore, I shall sit and eat the things that my father hath commanded me to eat, and should I die before this meal is through, Happy day! All is well!" Not so much.
2) The inherent spirituality of children. Ok, how many times have you heard in conference, sacrament meeting, or in church magazines about the children who suddenly stand up in Family Home Evening, become encircled with light, and tell their family how much they love them and how very much they love their Heavenly Father, and that the church is true beyond the shadow of a doubt? (or some derivation thereof). It's more like: "Ok kids, let's talk about Charity. Charity is the pure...Brynna, get off the entertainment center, that's not safe. So yeah, Charity is...Alex, turn off the gameboy. Now. I said now. No, you weren't turning it off, you were--oh never mind. OK, so Charity is like---OWWW! WHAT THE HECK! Callen! You just poked me with that! Where did you get a fondu fork anyway?"3) Children idolize their father. So when do I get to see my kids all googly-eyed, emulating me by putting their dishes in the dishwasher, or cleaning up the water they spilled on the floor, or deriving joy from tending the garden, or refilling the fridge water jug, or putting the wrapper they just dropped in the garbage can as they bask in my fatherly approval? Why do they only want to copy me when they see me drink straight from the milk jug or have the last Oreo?
4) The general idea that I would be the wise parent who teaches wisdom to my kids. Ok, I don't know about anybody else's kids, but generally my kids say "whatever" more often than they say "Ah, yet another nugget of wisdom to write in my journal." I would love to teach my kids about how to write a decent paper, how to handle embarrassing moments, how to appropriately comfort a mourning person, how to make 4 distinct popping sounds with your mouth, how to know when a girl is attracted to you--heck, I would love to get just one decent question about sex. What I get is, "Yeah, right" or "Uh, ok-I'm not going to do that."
In general I think that it's a good thing that they're here. I have some pretty good pictures and video that give me some warm feelings in retrospect. And certainly when I think of some of my clients and the mess they've got at home, I know my kids are pretty OK. But, hey--just every now and then I'd like to see one of my kids nearly translated in my living room like the ones the General Primary Presidency ladies talk about, y'know?
6 comments:
Hey, those are my little angels you're trash talking! Who am I kidding? I know just what you mean.
Man, that's rough. My kids actually ARE exactly everything that's inticing about kids. Hum...that's too bad for you.
(he he he)
I dream of one day seeing my children be the best of friends, instead of sworn enemies. Socks, who closes the door, which hairbrush is used, which chair to sit in while eating breakfast, the location of shoes, coats, and backpacks, standing room infront of the mirror, who used my favorite lunch bag, to eye rolling, and face making, how rudely their sister awoke them, or how they turned on the light, or who took the last maple and brownsugar oatmeal, and spitting their toothpaste in the wrong direction, leaving the water on, or leaving the water off, or taking to long to go potty, or going potty in the get ready bathroom so kids are forced to wait in the hallway, to pushes as they cross paths.Those are just some of our battles. And that's just before school. Don't get me started on the "Who wants to say the prayer" question.
That's another one! Shouldn't these "Saturday's Warriors" be chomping at the bit show off their praying chops? I abandoned the "who wants to say the prayer?" question long ago, both in my home and in conducting situations at church. It takes too long and everyone needs the practice, anyway. You're too shy? Get over it. Not feeling spiritual? Pray til you get over it.
Paul, you are such a gifted, humorous writer. I totally agree with the ideals we have versus reality. Most of the time, Jared and I are pulling our hair out by the end of the day. Most of our scripture study as a family is spent with me falling asleep or someone crying or someone yelling or someone throwing cars (normally the someone is either an Ian or Chris). But, then once in a while, we'll have a golden moment and actually talk about something (normally the twins fell asleep early that night). Maintaining perspective is nigh unto impossible some days. I have to keep chanting, "it's worth it, one day I'll see".
Bravo and Amen! Little ankle-biters... The irony of it all is that when they leave, you miss them.
Post a Comment