Things are Not As They Appear

Every now and then, we are caught off-guard. Thrown aback by something we discover that is going on in the lives of our oh so resilient children. It's a funny thing about listening to kids; their truth is absolute and kind of cloudy at the same time. Either way, it doesn't pay not to listen, because there is something at the core of what they are telling you.

Recently, I've allowed a slightly later 'lights off' policy, when the conversation is flowing and they're opening up beyond the typical, 'Yeah, school was the same' kind of thing. If I ever wondered if it was worth it to allow an extra half-hour to let the soul arise in the words of a child, I am forever in debt to whatever unusual piece of knowledge within myself to not throw a fit that the rooms weren't all silent at 8:30pm.

Of course, we live our lives unaware of what goes on in the homes of others. It is always a possibility that children sway their story towards the regards of something of hope, or belief, or love of one parent over another, but regardless, stories of despair that flow from the mouth of one child to another have meaning in some sense, and should be considered.

So yeah, in case you were wondering, I'm totally talking in code, in some respects. Just can't be naming names here. But my children, however imperfect themselves, have shared equal stories of friends' at school and various predicaments that they might be working through. It's hard for me, as I have a passion for the justice of children, to hear such things. But I suppose it's also my reckoning, of the fact that things are rarely as they seem. And there is often not a damn thing we can do about it except pray, for them of course, but also for ourselves, not to be in that same awful place.

Hey, I suck as a parent sometimes. I yell at my kid for stupid stuff, like you forgot to hang up your coat, and because I'm so freaking at the end of my rope, I think you should have remembered that today. I apologize later and we practice the routine of hanging up coats with humor and cupcakes. What parent isn't guilty of that?

But lately I hear of stories wandering home from the school desk murmurs; parents fighting and slamming doors, taking it out with a hand on the child, or simply having a voice so loud as to keep the house awake for hours. My own kids wondering if Stan and I, too, might get divorced and who should they plan to live with. Oh dear, it's so sad.

These are the nights that I hold their hands tightly as we drift to sleep together, and I remind them that this is the very reason that I love to lay beside them at night, and hold their hand, and assure them that even thought their Daddy drives me crazy sometimes (and vice versa), and he tickles too much, and occasionally loses track of time, and eats ketchup on nearly everything, that we will be old and gray and wrinkly loving on our grandchildren, and while the things they hear at school are very real to those other children, they are quite unlikely for our family.

I am so sad for those kids. I think you can often tell, those ones. The ones whose parents fight much, thinking the kids are fast asleep, or maybe they don't even care if they hear. It's damaging in a quiet way. What child doesn't want Mom and Dad to be happy together, and to feel like they are a part of that happiness?

So, to clarify, this house is far from perfect. We don't fight much, and when we do, it's simply stupidity and pride, but it's rare. No two people will agree on everything and we try to bite our tongues in our differences. It's hard, I know that. But man, kids suffer. They often become a great, convenient source of venting. Maybe even of the physical type. But even if it's only the words they hear, it's brutal. It sticks. So much, apparently, that they finally break, and they share all with those they trust at school. And despite how exaggerated and bias it might be, there is something very fierce going on within those sweet kids, and God only knows who might be able to help them.

I guess in some scenic route sort of way, my point is, when your kids talk, listen. And try to sort out the garbage from the real stuff; because frankly, I'm not sure they honestly know the difference yet. But more than anything, try to asses how the situation, or the conversation, that they had with a friend will impact them as a person, an individual and how they might use that information to perceive the days ahead of them.

We all only get one chance at this. I know there are areas I messed up real bad in life, and I'll do anything for my kids to not do the same. Listening to them, at a very young age, and paying attention, and addressing it with them, and having honest, meaningful conversations; yes, that's where I believe the difference really becomes.