I had one of those moments this week where a few extraneous thoughts collide and bring new understanding. I love that.
First, I’ve been trying to revive the front lawn, as well as get the garden going again. I’m not a big lawn guy. What’s the point of them exactly? But I do like planting vegetables.
Then, I read that NY Times piece about languishing.
Finally, with less than forty days left, I thought about the kid’s past year in school during the pandemic.
Kids are tough. Tougher than we usually give them credit for. I don’t think the girls are languishing. I think (hope), that like my vegetable garden (the front lawn might be beyond saving) they are merely dormant. They are waiting to bloom.
Planting a garden is circular, not relentlessly chronological, like our social media-obsessed society. What they’ve learned or how they’ve adapted might not be known for decades.
This past year has been unique, weird, and at times tough, and it’s hard to flourish in those conditions but I don’t think they’re failing, I think they’re biding their for better conditions. Like a kohlrabi.
Yeah, just compared my kids to those weird orbs in the bottom of your CSA box.
As we near the one-year anniversary of parenting in a pandemic, I keep coming back to the idea of good enough parenting as a touchstone to stay calm and confident and less anxious about the long-term effects of all this on the girls.
Good enough parents do not strive to be perfect parents and do not expect perfection from their children. Good enough parents respect their children and try to understand them for who they are. Good enough parents are more concerned for the child’s experience of childhood than with the child’s future as an adult. Good enough parents provide the help that their children need and want, but not more than they need or want.
Now if only my kids would consider the concept of being good enough children when I’m on a work Zoom…
We woke up to silence yesterday. The nice, tranquil kind of silence where you lie in bed and find meaning in the bird songs outside the window.
Not the kind of silence where you wonder if your kids are setting fire to the couch.
The kids were actually away overnight at the grandparents which meant that we could wake up, drink coffee and have a companionable conversation. We did not have to have breakfast with Bob Saget and his family.
I could get used to mornings without slapstick and a laugh track.
Here is how the rest of the day went….