School Problems
Gregory K. Moffatt, Ph.D.
A friend stopped
me in the hallway the other day and asked if I wanted to see the latest
pictures of his son. I always say yes to this question. He scrolled
through a half dozen pictures on his phone. I smiled as he showed me
photos of his son, a toddler, eating spaghetti in a high chair, sauce all over
his face. I suspect most parents have a picture like that somewhere.
It is kind of
funny to think about how proud we are of something so mundane. So, the
kid couldn't get the food in his mouth. Wow. We need to document
this.
But it isn't the
food nor the mess that makes us proud. We just are proud. Parents
can't help it. I think of all the events my friends have shared with me
over the years about their children and grandchildren. Awards for t-ball,
a picture on a first bicycle, a picture at the beach - all of them have the
same thing in common. The moment reminds us how much we love our children
and we can't help but want to share it.
Even as I write
these words, I see three photographs of my three children on my desk in front
of me. All three pictures are from years ago, but they all remind me how
much I love my children.
I'm proud of
their accomplishments, their grades, and their career advancements. I
don't wish for the "good ole days" when they were little. Those
were great times, but I love having adult children. I am seeing what they
have become and I couldn't be more pleased.
The very first
column I ever wrote for The Citizen was entitled "Why
Bother." I'd had a full day of fun with my two daughters and then,
just before bed, one of them complained about being bored. Ugh. Why
bother. But as I noted in that column, I know why I bothered. I was
preparing them for today.
Years ago, one of
my dear friends experienced some trouble with one of his sons. As a
punishment for his behavior, his son was required to do some yard work for an
elderly woman in the community. My friend went and worked beside his son
in the hot sun.
At some point,
the boy asked my friend, "Dad, why are you here working? You didn't
do anything." My friend responded, "Because, son, I'm your
dad." That is what we do. We love our children even in times
of trouble.
Being proud of my
children doesn't mean every choice they have made is what I would have chosen
for them. They are individuals and I always delight in their uniqueness,
even when I'm not so sure about their choices.
Another good
friend had two children who were musicians during the head-banging rock music
days. I remember sitting through a concert that was so loud my ears still
hurt. The long, wild hair of my friend's sons seemed a poor fit for them
and the "music" wasn't anything I could recognize. But my
friend sat through the concert smiling and encouraging his sons.
Someone asked him
the question I didn't have the nerve to ask. "Do you like that
music?" My friend replied simply, "I love my sons!"
It wasn't a dodge of the question and it was totally sincere. He couldn't
help but love their uniqueness even if he didn't like their choice of music or
hair style. At the time I had no children, but I decided at that moment
I'd always try to be that kind of dad.
I wanted to be the kind of dad that worked in the hot
sun with his boy and I wanted to be the kind of dad that encouraged his
children even when the music hurt his ears.