after pushing M (age 5) through the ropes of the morning routine and just emerging in time to catch the bus, a few minutes to spare - with shoes, coat, backpack, snack and water bottle - I decide to forego the spelling list today, even though we haven't had the time for it for about a week. she surprises me by handing the list to me - a silent gesture "lets do the list dad." she makes attempt at the first word, at first replacing the "i" in "with" with "a", then getting the "th" after I isolate the sound. when I ask her to do it again, all together, she absentmindely spells t - h - e. I laugh out loud because I know she is distracted and I have a tendency to make things like this task to serious. (she is a good speller) and laughing out loud is a much better way of dealing with chaos than getting uptight. I tell her that she's "not thinking" and that we'll do it another time. The bus is now imminent. She must be interpreting this as an insult because, wordless, she shuffles out the front door and does not blow me the customary kiss as usual. she is stating her disapproval.
I sigh as I watch her purple and pink colors walk over the brown late winter grass towards the bus, wondering at the incredible odds against positive parenting - the constant thwarts against good intentions, the million ways that children cause us to feel as though we are failing.
there are way more things to do and be done in this job than it is possible for us to do, unless we can figure out a way to stay up around the clock consecutively for about 25 years. and yet, we cannot help ourselves from trying to do it all. but the harder we focus, the more likely it is that we will miss something important that is happening on its own. somewhere between the ideals we hold ourselves to, the efforts we produce and the perceived failure that results - there must be a place for us to exist. that is part of the daily routine of living. working that algorithm again and again, trying to come out at the end of the day with some semblance of contentment - that we have given the day a good whirl, hung on tightly to the kite string and were not afraid to look up at the kite and laugh.
The older we get the more we fail, but the more we fail the more we feel a part of the dead straw of the universe - Robert Bly
