Here's a little teaser, because I think this story is in my "Unschooling the Wrong Way" talk, which I'll be delivering at LIFE is Good in approximately 20 days.
For Faith.
One day when Chloe was about six, we were visiting Capulin Volcano National Monument in New Mexico. When we arrived at the park, the weather was nice, but we knew thunderstorms were on their way. This added a sense of urgency to our planned walk along the rim, since we would be pretty exposed up there.
Now, Chloe has always had pretty defined ideas about how things should be. Some of these are tactile sensitivity things: shirt tags must be hanging out, socks should just be left in the drawer thankyouverymuch, and so on. Others are simply clearly defined preferences, lifelong or momentary. On this particular day, it was probably a combination of the two. Chloe wanted her shoes just so. I don't remember what she wanted. Even then, I might not have been clear on her goal. All I knew was that she was being very sloooooooooooooow, and the lightning was coming, and I wanted my family off the mountain as soon as possible.
But I tried. I offered help. I suggested different things. Nothing was quite right. And my patience eroded. My own little volcano was bubbling.
At this moment, as the seismographs went wild and steam started escaping my ears, an older couple walked by. The woman took one look and accurately sized up the situation.
"Count to a million, Mom," she said.
Her phrasing was just unique enough, just different enough from the ubiquitous "Count to ten," that I paused. It bought me a little time to cool my jets, and a couple of completely inconsequential minutes later, our little family was on its way up the trail.
She was exactly right: that little six-year-old deserved more than a ten-count. Our kids deserve all the counting we can do.
I wish I could thank that lady.
Mojo Brew bio
9 months ago
6 comments:
I have always been frustrated by "count to ten" it is never enough for *me*! I absolutely love this and I am immediately adding it to my tool box. Thx
Veronica, Auntie Pam had to do this with you while trying to find the exactly right silky spot on your blanket when you were three!
nice Ronnie :)
and I've tagged you, check my blog (if you want to play along)
What if the kids are the ones counting with me being the one they are waiting for?! Or what if *I* need to count for me?!
I love this. Thank you. I need the reminder.
Count to a million, mom. I love it. What a wise woman to have said so. Thanks for sharing that!
It's a wonderful thing to know that one's unique perspective of time and space is important. One person who seemed to appreciate where I was at ... who got me... is Granpa Hoyle. What a great memory to have as my own special treasure. He's almost 100 now and the irony is that he's probably forgptten all that now since he has Alzeimer's. But *I* still remember ... Geesh! I'm still less than half his age. One of these days I'll also forget or I'll cease to be-- whichever comes first. But this is way better than any ole car warranty eh?
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