Anyway, back to Maddie. We got to hang out quite a bit this weekend and we had a lot of fun. We went shopping (where I put my foot down on any swimsuits that had "triangles"... I may start a movement later loosely focused on what clothing my children can wear based on geometry principles, but that is for another day). We got to cheer on her cousin Abby at a fashion show, where coincidentally I sort of exposed Maddie to her first Chippendale-like experience as the fashion show opened on a completely-unexpected, probably-not-PG, at-what-point-do-I cover-her-eyes, is-this-what-those-Beckham-kids-Saturday-nights-are-like, type prelude. But, beyond that she had a great time and looks to perhaps have a future on the runway.
Then this afternoon, Maddie had a gymnastics meet. For those of you who don't know my love/hate relationship with gymnastics, let me give you a little background. We have probably invested $2,000 and 2 years of our lives in gymnastics and Maddie can barely do a cartwheel. She is also super-inflexible. Like, there is maybe some sort of genetic code passed down which makes it literally impossible for her to do a sit-and-reach. I had the same disorder, so I know it exists. I guess that is all of the background you need.
Okay, I may be overstating it a little and being a BIT sarcastic. Maddie seems to really enjoy her classes and maybe, just maybe, in my heart of hearts I want her to be good at something that I wished I would have been better at. I mean, I know I was a notable cheerleader and dancer (yep, who was voted "Best Dancer" in her freshman {and only} year as a Kohawk cheerleader...this gal!) Obviously, Maddie has the genes to be successful...So, we have let her stay in and today that culminated with her first "rec" meet. Rec meaning it was a "just for fun" type meet (that we paid $35 to enter, but I'm not bitter). So, anyway, this is where I started to have this great parenting revolution.
After she was done with all of her events, they started calling the girls up to get their "prizes". They called them up in the order that they finished in their group, but in a way that was so fast, I don't think the girls even realized what was going on. But I did. And I sank a little lower in my chair when she was called dead last for her first event and second to last for her second event. Then, sure enough, I puffed right up when she was called second for her third event. I didn't even pay much attention to the fourth event, as I was still reveling in the glow of her second place finish (second to a girl so tall and so obviously older than Maddie by at least 5 years, that I really was counting it in my head as a first place win). And I thought:
OH MY GOSH. WHAT IS IT ABOUT OUR SOCIETY THAT MAKES ME DO THIS? WHY DO I CARE?
I don't want to be that parent or that person. I don't want to be the one who tallies their kids successes against other kids failures (or in the P.C. world we live in, against other kids lesser successes). I don't want to rank my kid based on what they can do well and rub their nose in what they need to do better. I don't want to log on to Facebook and feel totally inadequate based on all the great things other people are doing like going for runs outside (who can run without Netflix? I don't get it) and remembering to plan their kids' birthday parties on time (although, when we had Zach's a month and half late and told him it was because we just wanted to keep celebrating him, he totally bought it) and 90% of the time, I think I do a pretty good job of this, but holy cow, I was slapped in the face with this reality of my world. Then, this....
You guys, look at her little self. She was up there, proud as can be, just loving the fact that she even competed and people were clapping for her (you can also take note of the size of the other competitors if you want, but that is neither here nor there but she is the little, teeny, tiny one in the red leotard competing against kids twice her size). She didn't care that she was called up almost last. She was just ENJOYING THE MOMENT. So, before I start my geometric-pattern-clothing parenting movement, I move we start an "ENJOY THE MOMENT" parenting movement. Maybe there already is one....and if there is, I apologize if I stole your slogan or anything. I feel like this is an original idea, but I did zero research to confirm that fact. While it may not be practical to do a "gymnast salute" during the moment you are enjoying, it would be freaking awesome if you did. I might. You might see me walking down the street, enjoying a Diet Pepsi, laughing with my kids, and just pop into my stance. You will know what it means.
So, while thinking about how important (and how very seldom I actually do) it is to enjoy the moment, I moved into Phase 2 of my parenting epiphany of today (Enjoy the Moment, was Phase 1 if you aren't keeping up). In Phase 2, I realized that I'm pretty sure being a "parent" has very little to do with what kind of Parent you are, but almost 100% to do with what kind of person you are. I think about now, in my life, I get really wrapped up in being a "good parent" instead of being a better person. Guess what, folks...a better person would have cheered like crazy for those little girls doing gymnastics without wondering who those frigging judges are that didn't notice that my daughter's legs were totally straight while everyone's else's weren't even close, yet she came in 5th? What?!?
Plus, this totally supports my theory that although we have four kids and have raised them pretty much exactly the same, it has no impact on their behavior. Wesley is totally and completely unparentable. Which gets all of us off the hook...don't worry about parenting, people...it is a crap shoot anyway! Enjoy the moment you are in now and hope that you never have to enjoy the moment while bailing those kids you didn't really parent out of jail. But if you do, just pop into a gymnastics salute...I promise it will make everything better.
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