Kermit
the Frog used to lament; “It’s not easy
being green.” I’m sure he had his
reasons, but I’d like Kermit to know
that it’s not any easier being a parent.
Parents have felt this way since the
fourth chapter of Genesis and things
have become trickier ever since. The
twenty first century has brought an
astounding number of challenges to
parenthood. Let’s just say there are
serious “land mines” that await us each
day.
Take for instance, the whole topic of
homework. I didn’t mind homework too
much as a student, but as a parent, I
have come to loathe it. You see, I was
born around the middle of the last
century and so, many facets of my
children’s homework is, well… new. They
have new spelling and new history and
new math. After I cleaned up the dinner
dishes the other night, my daughter
asked me to help her with her math
homework. I hesitantly obliged and it
wasn’t long before she was in tears. She
told me I was dividing wrong and adding
wrong and that if she did the work my
way, the teacher would mark it wrong.
Advanced algebra? Nope—just fractions
with a fourth grader!
Carpooling is another phenomenon of
which our mothers knew not of. They
washed diapers by hand so God didn’t let
them carpool for fear of early mental
pause. My mother didn’t even apply for a
driver’s license until she was middle
aged. She knew exactly what she was
doing—that sly fox. On Mondays alone, I
pick up Paris at school, and then I pick
up Capri and then I drop them off for
piano and voice lessons. I run to pick
up Jordan to get him to soccer on time.
I pick up his friend whose mother works
and then I leave the soccer field to run
and get the girls. You should see me on
Saturdays. I’m actually thinking of
decorating the inside of the SUV since I
spend so much time in it.
Computers are another source of
frustration and failure and they do
indeed affect my ability to parent. I
was helping Capri add sub sentences to
her report and I inadvertently deleted
her report. When Jordan asked me to set
up margins (I could do it quite well on
my electric typewriter), I erased the
left half of his essay and never found
it again. Paris’ theater teacher sends
attachments that I cannot locate. I am
quite sure there’s a huge attachment
file floating between my house and Mars
with lots of stuff waiting for me.
The kids cannot believe that I grew up
without a computer. I assured them the
first computer I ever saw was in a
sci-fi movie with “2001” in its title—it
was a far off year and a far flung
premise and I was confident at age 13,
that neither would ever come to pass.
The computer was named Hal and as I
recall, it had a mind of its own. And
the computer was not the only thing we
lived without in the last century.
“Ma! You didn’t have
calculators? VCRs? Microwaves? Fax
machines? CD players? Game Boys?
Nintendos? DVDs? Play Stations? Game
Cubes? How did you live? What was that
like? Did you feel deprived? What did
you do for fun?”
“Well, I had a nifty eight track
player in junior high—oh, never mind.”
I really felt old recently when a friend
came for lunch and brought along her
preschooler.
After the four year old little sweetie
finished her sandwich, I offered to set
her up in the TV room to watch a cartoon
on our new DVD player. She propped
herself up on the couch and I covered
her cherub like legs with a quilt. I
looked around and located three separate
remote controls. Surely one would work.
I pressed 73 buttons and nothing worked.
I pointed them at the TV, the DVD, the
VCR, and finally, at my frazzled brain.
The little angel popped off the couch.
“I’ll do it!” She relieved me of
all three and within 15 seconds, she
clicked on the TV, clicked over to the
DVD and clicked up the volume. Humbled
yet again.
A friend of mine told me a great story
related to the huge land mine of being
discriminating and discerning about
family entertainment. A father of three
teenagers had a family rule that they
could not attend “R” rated movies. His
teens wanted to see a particular popular
movie that had just been released in
local theaters. It was rated “R.”
The teens interviewed friends and even
some members of their church to find out
what was offensive or questionable in
the movie. They made a list of pros and
cons about the movie in order to
convince their dad that they should be
allowed to see it.
The cons? It contained
only three curse words, the only
violence was a building exploding (and
that’s on TV all the time), and you
actually did not “see” the couple in the
movie having physical relations; it was
just implied--- off camera, of course.
The pros? It was a very
popular movie—a true blockbuster!
Everyone was seeing it.
It contained a good story and a good
plot. It had some great adventure and
suspense. There were some brilliant
special effects. The stars were some of
the most talented actors in Hollywood.
It probably would be nominated for
several awards. Many of the members of
their Christian church had seen the
movie and said it “wasn’t too bad.” If
they could see the movie then they would
not feel like “rejects” when their peers
discussed it.
Since there were more pros than cons,
the teens had asked their father to
reconsider his position just this ONE
time and let them have permission to go
see it. The father looked at the list
and thought for a few minutes. He told
them he could see they put considerable
time and thought into their request. He
asked if he could have a day to think
about things before making his decision.
The three teenagers were thrilled. They
were sure that they “had him” because
their arguments were so convincing.
There was no way Dad could turn them
down. They happily agreed to let him
have a day to think about their request.
The next evening, the father called his
three teenagers, who were smiling
smugly, into the living room. There, on
the coffee table, he had placed a plate
of brownies. His kids were puzzled. The
father told them he had thought about
their request and had decided that if
they would each eat a brownie, then he
would let them go to the movie.
But---just like the movie, the brownie
had pros and cons.
The pros? They were made
with the finest chocolate and other
premium quality ingredients. They had
the added delight of yummy chocolate
chips in them. The brownies were moist
and fresh with wonderful, smooth,
creamy, luscious chocolate frosting on
top.
He had made these fantastic brownies
using an award winning recipe. And best
of all, the brownies had been lovingly
made by the hands of their own dear
father.
The cons? The brownies
had only one. He had included a special
ingredient. The brownies also contained
just a little bit of dog poop. But he
had mixed it in well and they probably
would not even be able to taste the dog
poop. He baked the brownies at 350
degrees, so any bacteria or germs had
probably been destroyed.
Therefore, if any of his children could
stand to eat the special brownies which
included “just a little bit of crap”
and not be affected by it—then he was
confident they would also be able to see
the movie with “just a little bit of
smut” and not be affected.
Of course, none of them would eat the
brownies and the smug smiles left their
faces as they filed out of the room. Now
when his teenagers ask permission to do
something that involves questionable
content, the father just asks, “Would
you like me to whip up a batch of my
special brownies?” There are never
any takers.
Parenting…it’s not just a
job…it’s an adventure. May God be our
guide.
