The Inconvenient Mouths of Babes…

I’m convinced that the saying “Out of the mouths of babes…” is only truly amusing to childless people. For those of us who have frequently had to shush overly loud descriptions of bodily functions, embarrassing private information, and inquiries as to how the man in front of us in line became SO FAT...well, let’s just say it can be slightly less amusing.

With rare exception (the rare exception being a dinner party with people we don’t know very well), this usually happens in the middle of the supermarket. At about five o’clock. While trying to juggle 50 coupons. I always handle the situation in the same way – I shush the kids quickly, smile at the offended glances we get, and whisper loudly, “Hush now, or I’ll tell your mother you said that!”

I’m pretty sure no one buys it, but you never know. I’m still holding out hope that at least a few people on any given trip to the grocery store or bank will believe my rumpled jogging clothes are a result of actual jogging, so one could argue my efforts at face-saving deceptions are not always grounded in reality.

Last week, we had one of these moments. It didn’t happen at the supermarket, it happened at home. My face didn’t get any less red, though, when Julia complained to me, “Why don’t you take us to really fun places? Daddy always takes us to really fun places!”

I did manage to bite back the initial responses that sprang to my lips surprisingly fast. Those responses included:

• “Daddy can afford to take you fun places because he saves lots of money dodging child support,” and
• “Daddy gets to focus on only doing fun stuff because he doesn’t have to be a real parent.”

I repeat: I did not actually say these things. But you better believe I was thinking them. I did spend some time really considering what she said, though. Here are my conclusions...

First of all, we do go “fun places” on the weekend, but our fun outings are always interspersed with not-at-all-fun-but-necessary activities like laundry and room-cleaning. I realize there seems to be a distinction in her four-year-old mind, because Daddy’s weekends are spent doing only fun things. There are no chores and no household to-do lists to complete. Now, I can resent that a little (and believe me, I do) but it doesn’t change anything.

Second, there’s some truth to the simple fact that we don’t have the same discretionary budget as Daddy does. We have significantly more expenses, and the lion’s share of those expenses is a financial responsibility I carry alone. Is it fair? Nope. But wasting a lot of energy resenting it doesn’t change anything.

Finally, whether or not it’s fair for the kids to perceive things that way, I have to acknowledge the possibility that they occasionally do. We don’t have every-other-weekend visits here; we’re living life everyday, with the schedules and responsibilities that come with it. I wouldn’t, even for a moment, consider trading that to only see the kids for four days out of the month, no matter how many fun things we could do in those four days.

I never want to miss the forest for the trees: I’m trying to give my kids a great childhood – one filled with sweet memories of love, patience, and happiness. I want them to love God and treat others with kindness and respect. I’m trying to teach them responsibility. It’s a far less glamorous job than taking them exciting places but a significantly more important one. My son’s future wife probably won’t care if he’s good at putt-putt, but his ability to find the hamper with his own wet towels could be a marriage-saver someday.

I have so many great childhood memories of my own of simple times we spent as a family – books my parents read to me, playing in my backyard, visiting my cousins, and my mom teaching me how to cook. Those memories are irreplaceable. They don’t involve exciting adventures to theme parks because childhoods aren’t built on that; they’re built on everything that happens in between.

This doesn’t mean we shouldn’t sometimes indulge in a responsibility-free, super-fun (yet inexpensive) weekend. Will it take some expert juggling and schedule-adjusting? Absolutely. But it’s not impossible. It isn’t the main goal, though. The great myth that all you have to do to raise well-adjusted kids is have lots of fun has long since been debunked by large numbers of spoiled, angry teenagers and Lindsay Lohan.

It’s my privilege to be raising these kids, to be given the opportunity to help shape the character of the people they’ll become. When an uncomfortable truth comes out of the inconvenient mouths of babes, sometimes you have to be willing to confront it with humility and good humor. And in case that doesn’t work, I’ve been known to accept bottles of wine from sympathetic readers. ☺