lesson

“Honour thy father and thy mother.” One of the 10 Commandments. Most of us were raised to regard our parents as our superiors. “Because I said so” is an oh-so familiar phrase in most households. We consider our children OURS. They belong to us. It is our job to guide them.

But what if we, instead, regard our children as our teachers?

I’ve been reading a great deal of parenting books this summer: The Conscious Parent and The Awakened Family both by Dr. Shefali, The Whole Brain Child by Drs. Siegel and Bryson are just a few. Very honestly, I typically feel resistant to pick them up and read them. I fight a feeling of eye-rolling, as if to say “Don’t I do enough, already? I hardly have time to read as it is, do I really want to spend my time thinking more about my children?” And yet, I am left with a sense of clarity after every page. A tiny shift in perspective that feels like a fresh breath of air.

Instead of only focusing on the wisdom we have to bestow on our offspring, what if we opened our heart to the lessons they are teaching us every day? For instance, patience. Slowing down so they can keep up when we walk, slowing down our speech so they can understand, slowing down our schedules so that we have time to marvel at their magnificence. Slowing down when we rush them to get their shoes, jackets and seatbelt on. Witnessing them learn. Viewing the wonder of the world from their eyes.

Or how about our capacity to love? Our hearts have never experienced a love this fierce. We love them so much that when they disappoint us we feel it personally within our own hearts, as if it is a reflection of us. Perhaps it is. Perhaps rather than focusing our anger on them, we could open our hearts to the lesson it has taught us on how to be a better parent. Perhaps we could learn to love ourselves as much as we love them.

Forgiveness. Murderers have parents who still love them, in spite of their evildoings. Maybe we can learn to forgive others or even ourselves with the grace we give our own children.

When we start to witness our children as our teachers, we release the pressure of parenting perfectly. We wait, we watch, we consider and we enjoy. We grow as they grow and love them not only for who they are, but also for all they have taught us.

image1 copy.JPG — Emma Jane at 18 Months Old

Emma nearly died twice today before 11 a.m.. Both incidents were fully preventable. Both incidents were caused because I was distracted.

The first was at 9 a.m. I was getting the five and three year-old ready for swim lessons and needed to grab their goggles from inside the Protect-a-Child pool fence. Emma followed me into the backyard and fussed at the fence, wanting to get into the pool. I quickly told her we didn’t have time and heard the gate swing shut behind me as I walked back into the sun-room, fully expecting her to follow.

Some of the items I gathered from outside were still a little wet, so instead of bringing them inside, I dropped them on the sun-porch floor and thought to look for a bag. I heard Emma continuing to fuss in the background, which is when I turned around to see her opening the pool gate.

It had closed, but had not latched.

Had I not seen her, she would have been in that pool, drowning in the next 5 seconds.

It scared me to death.

The next incident was right around 11 a.m. We had returned from swim lessons and a grocery trip and I started carrying the bags inside the house. Emma loves to play in the garage with all of her yard toys and was happily distracted with her tricycle and cars. The big girls were setting up a large blanket for our picnic.

I took one more peek at Emma in the garage before organizing lunch for the four of us, leaving the kitchen door to the garage largely cracked so I could still see her.

That’s when I heard the scream.

I ran outside, to find Emma in the middle of the street, a car stopped just in front of her. Her older sisters helplessly standing in the grass, witnessing Emma running in the road to get the ball that had rolled down the driveway.

We live on a half-acre lot but 30 seconds was all it took for Emma to make it from the garage to the middle of the road.

I had turned my back to dish out broccoli and chicken nuggets into the plates and my baby almost died. Again.

I feel foolish. I feel unqualified to be a mother. I feel angry with myself. I feel sad for my older daughters who experienced that terror and whose screams were the only reason I knew what had happened. I feel gratitude for the mercy God bestowed TWICE on my child today. I feel the need to share this story, to remind others how quickly distraction can kill.

Hindsight is 20/20. I should have double checked the pool gate like I have 1,000 other times, but today, I was in a hurry and I didn’t.

I never should have left Emma alone in the garage, even if I could see her from the kitchen, because she is 18 MONTHS OLD. But the thought of trying to prepare lunch for the four of us while she screamed and cried at the kitchen door versus her happily playing with her toys, propelled me to make that poor decision.

I tell my girls all of the time that it just takes once to break a bone, to fall, to drown, etc. I don’t want them living in perpetual fear but I do want them to understand that just because we got lucky once, doesn’t mean we will again.

We live in a world that enables multi-tasking. Bluetooth capabilities to talk while driving in our car and Apple watches on our wrist to alert us of a text as we jog. It seems there are never enough hours in a day to finish everything we want accomplished, which is why we feel proud when we are able to “kill two birds with one stone”. But at what cost?

Today, it almost cost me the life of my youngest child.

Yesterday, distraction surely caused someone else to lose theirs.

Just a week ago, I watched a chilling video that forced me to become a less-distracted driver. I started putting my phone out-of-sight in the car, as a result of this video but gradually, my phone has made its way back onto the middle console.

It seems ridiculous that I could be so careless, when this entire video is about how “better-than-most” is not sufficient. The pool fence is a step-up from no fence at all, but it’s worthless if it isn’t closed. The cracked garage door is only helpful if I keep my eye on that crack the entire time, which is impossible.

None of us is perfect, but this video and what happened to my family this morning, has been a much-needed reminder of the importance of constant-vigilance when driving and caring for children.

I’m not waiting for God to grant me any more second-chances. I’m so grateful I didn’t have to learn these lessons the most horrible, worst-way imaginable. I’m taking His grace and slowing down. I hope you will, too.

The Video that Changed My Life