Repercussions
Small actions can have huge consequences, just ask anyone who has ever seen an avalanche. I believe that most problems, like avalanches, have small beginnings. If problems are correctly managed while they are small, then the problems never proceed to the point where they are unstoppably crushing everything in their path. My whole parenting style is based upon this belief. I teach my kids to work now so they’ll already know how before they hit high school. I teach them to manage money now so they won’t be clueless spendthrifts when they have their own incomes. I make very clear that hitting and biting are unacceptable expressions of anger, to prevent having a violent teenager or adult.
It’s a good theory, but the reality is much more complex that what I just described. I just gave the clear cut examples. So many other parenting decisions are more murky. For each decision I try to peer into the future and figure out what the possible repercussions might be so that I can make the best possible choice. Say that Gleek doesn’t want to go to Kindergarten. Letting her stay home may allow her to have a welcome day off so that she’s ready to go back the next day, or it might teach her that school is optional and she can get out of it if she throws a big enough tantrum. If I make her go to school she might settle in and have a great day, or she might be angry and resentful all day long, causing difficulties for her teacher and classmates. Which is the right choice? I can’t tell at the moment of choosing. All I know is that the choice takes me irrevocably down one branch of the possibility tree. Tomorrow I may be faced by exactly the same choice, but I will be in a slightly different place because I’ll have yesterday’s choices behind me as a precedent.
Patterns matter more than incidents. I’ve said that myself many times as I try to come to terms with an unpleasant event. I believe it is true. A single incident of leaving Gleek with her teacher and walking away while she cries for me, does not carry as much weight as the many days when she trips off happily to school. BUT if the incident is big enough or traumatic enough, it will be remembered. This is particularly true with younger children who thrive on patterns, but remember incidents. We all create stories about our lives based on the things we remember. What if the only memory that Gleek retains about Kindergarten is being abandoned there by her mother? What will that older Gleek tell herself about her Kindergarten experiences? So incidents do matter. I can’t let incidents just stand by themselves. I have to talk them through with the child. I have to try to make sure that the conclusions which the child draws from the incident are ones that will give the child good options for the future. But even talking over incidents is a choice with possible repercussions. Kids don’t like to be talked or moralized at. They may choose to shut me out and limit my power to influence their thoughts.
Then there is the case where I am deliberately attempting to set up a pattern. Link just acquired a retainer which will help his jaw grow a little larger to fit all of his teeth into a neat row. From where I am standing, this seems the best possible choice for him. But I can’t deny the possibility that there may be a variable that I can’t see from here. Perhaps growing his jaw will misalign his teeth, creating a need for braces rather than preventing a need for them. Perhaps the mushiness of his speech won’t go away after a week. Perhaps he’ll learn bad speaking habits from constantly having the retainers in his mouth. Every day I see him put his retainers in his mouth and one or more of these thoughts flits through my head. I watch the retainer go in and realize that I am choosing to let it continue because I still believe it is best. I will probably continue to believe it is best until I’m either proved right or shown to be badly mistaken. Either way the evidence will only arrive after it is too late for me to reverse course.
Every day I make hundreds or thousands of seemingly small parenting decisions. The odds are good that at least some of those decisions will cause me problems in the future. I try to stick to firm trails and watch my step, but it will not be the steps that I’m watching carefully which will bring the grief. I can’t know if I’m doing this parenting thing right until it’s too late for me to go back and fix things. So I live with this gnawing sense of failure because I know it is impossible for me to get it all right. A day like yesterday when I stomp furiously off the path leaves me wondering if I can handle this job at all.
Then yesterday was followed by this morning, when Patches took himself to the toilet sans prompting. Somehow despite my agonizing and self doubt, my kids continue to grow and thrive. They find happiness and achievements that are completely unconnected with anything I say or do. Then I wonder if my actions carry as much weight as I fear that they do. Perhaps instead of watching all my steps carefully I need to look up from my feet, take my children’s hands, and watch the scenery as we walk together.