always look both ways

Happy Fathers Day, Dad. I occasionally get this fatherhood thing right. And when I do, it is in large part due to the fact that I have a wonderful example in you, which is more than many men can say. Thanks for giving me direction and a standard. I love you.

Yesterday I was on the other side of the fairly busy road which runs in front of our house. I was speaking with Mary, our widowed neighbor, about her tree which sustained serious damage during Friday night's storm (and which subsequently almost smashed our Toyota). Brennan and Zoe had followed me out of the house, but I asked them to stay on our side of the road because I would be right back. After spending more time than I (and they) had anticipated speaking with Mary, they made a dash for me and ran--unattended--across the road together. Mary about fainted, and I just stood there dumbstruck, half impressed by the bold crossing, and half mad out of my mind that they would blatantly disobey me and put themselves in harm's way. When they reached me, they had a look of satisfaction on their faces, as if to say, "dude, did you see what we just pulled off! We just crossed that bad boy by ourselves! Woohoo!" I took them by their sweet little hands, bid adieu to Mary (who still looked a little woozy), and walked back across the street and inside the house. After explaining the danger of their decision to them, and mentioning the fact that I had specifically asked them NOT to follow me, I put them in time out where they were to remain until I returned from a quick errand. Brennan said he was sorry over and over again, while Zoe just screamed (Brennan upset with the fact that "Gryffindor had lost points," Zoe just upset she got in trouble). During my errand, I thought about the kids' behavior, my response, and decisions in general. The thing about their crossing is this--they had done EVERY thing I have ever taught them about roads. They approached the road cautisously, looked both ways twice making sure no cars were within 2 blocks, and then SPRINTED across the road. We have done this together multiple times. The thought of them getting struck by a car as they ran excitedly towards me was nauseating; but I couldn't help but take some of the responsibility. Something inefficient had occurred in my teaching. Something I did or said sent the signal that crossing the road by themselves was ok. Surely such slips occur in other areas of parental instruction as well; confidently teaching a principle only to see it be applied erroneously. Of course I cannot ensure (or expect) that all lessons will be received as I intend. And even when the intended message is accurately communicated, and thoroughly received, I cannot force them to behave accordingly. Even with the potential for error, I will have to allow them to practice what I have taught, by themselves. They will cross the road alone. They will continue walking. They will walk into situations far more precarious than passersby. And when they find themselves in those situations, all I can do is hope that the lessons they have learned (from Lori and me, and others) will be remembered, and that they will always, always, remember to look both ways.