This might seem like an overdramatization of the simple act of crossing the street, but look at it from the child's point of view. There are lots of cars whizzing past, and children have all seen the smooshed squirrels so it is no giant leap of understanding to know what a car would do to them. Also, they don't know the 'rules of the road' so traffic doesn't really have a pattern, it's just criss crossing chaos. From this point of view it is no small undertaking to take your mother's hand and step off the curb into the street. But she does it without breaking stride.
Why?
A few weeks ago I built a fence around our back yard. It turned out pretty well and I am suitably impressed with myself. It's not perfect but it's pretty good. The longer I live in my old house in Minneapolis the better I get at building and fixing things. I have some friends and acquaintances that are highly skilled in these types of projects and I am envious of their abilities. I want to be known as a person who can fix small things if they break (internal combustion engines are waaayyy beyond me...I can change the oil), has a reasonable collection of tools and some knowledge and skill in using them, and can finish a project. It's a guy thing.
My question is: does the ability to do these things make a child more willing to hold my hand to cross the street?
I have been thinking alot about relationships with our children and my legacy. I recall a bit done by Bill Cosby where he relates a story when an interviewer asked him what he wanted on his tombstone and he retorts "See, told 'ya I was sick!" If we take the question a little more seriously, how do we want to be remembered? As I said above I want to be known as a guy who can fix and build things as necessary, but I'm not interested in that being my legacy. Nor do I want to be known as a guy who excelled at his job or played a hot sax. I'm not trying to say these things are not important because they are, but what is really important?
As parents we love our children deeply. We don't always like them, but we love them beyond measure. Our most recent home project was replacing the cement steps leading to the back door to our house. The reason we did this project is a great story that needs to be left for another time. However during the project there was a unique and instructive moment.
Anyone who has spent time busting up concrete knows what a tough job it is. All destructive tools are a welcome addition to the workforce. There was a particularly stubborn piece hanging onto a corner that needed a little caressing by a sledge hammer. Anita willingly picked up the 10lb hammer and swung away. After she dislodged the stubborn stone and was accepting my accolades for a job well done, she told me she was envisioning faces on the surface of the rock she was whacking. I fully knew she was talking about the children because there had been more than her share of tension in their interactions over the previous few days.
Some might be appalled at the notion of whacking your kids with a sledge hammer. Keeping in mind this was a theoretical face bashing, I have to admit I completely get it. In fact I'm a little jealous I wasn't the one whacking the rock. Why do we want to whack these children, whom we dearly love but don't always like, in the face with a hammer?
I would argue it's that love that makes us want to do it. If we didn't care so much, the way they act wouldn't bother us so much. The sledge hammer can be a great coping mechanism and a really efficient therapist. A few whacks and it's out of your system. After all, we still want to hold their hand crossing the street...and THAT is what's really important
