Certain principles seem to require a lot of reminding about. One is perfectly contained in a favorite picture book series of mine (sadly, out of print, but still possible to find a copy here or there) about Edward the Unready (a bear, penned and illustrated by the wonderful Rosemary Wells). The takeaway message from the stories: “Not everyone is ready for the same things at the same time.”
A wrinkle on this is about helping others—and yourself—when feeling you don’t measure up, about the big achievements and the smaller, less named ones. Putting my lack of a New York Times publication or fantastic yoga pants with tall, lithe body to wear them or child who is a shoo-in for __ because of the Nobel-worthy achievements made before puberty, I often find myself thinking about how life isn’t a race. Or, as the preschool and first grade teachers might counsel: “You get what you get and you don’t get upset.” In this era when cultivating gratitude seems virtuous, you practice the flip side, too: how fortunate you feel about eight hours of sleep or how lucky you are about basics that should not be taken for granted (save for when you’re mourning your shelf empty of Oscars), like your children’s health.
Recently, my second guy, the eighth grader, has been super-delicious. He seems to enjoy being helpful and kind and connected and empathetic (not to say he was the opposite of these things before, he wasn’t, but he’s more helpful and kind and connected and empathetic—and seems happier). While I’d imagine an eighth grader to want to be away from his family and cavorting with his pals, that’s just not the case for him. As he settles in to this sweet stretch with his home peeps, I’m relaxing into it for now, channeling some Edward-wisdom about how this is what he wants and needs. Rather than judge his preference for home on some “teenagers should” scale, I’m better off drinking in his preference for home. I’m guessing at some point, this will change.
PS: He is apparently quite happy and connected with his peers at school.
