Lesson Learned?!

This year, Mike and I are trying to something new at the beginning of school:  we are accepting failure as an option.

Yes, you read that right.  FAILURE.  It is on the table.  As an option.

See, in years past, we have done just about everything but stand on our heads to encourage our children to do the right thing when it comes to school.  Though not exhaustive, here is a list of what hasn't worked in the past:

1.  Screaming
2.  Crying
3.  Reasoning/Logic
4.  Bribery
5.  Loss of privileges
6.  Earning of privileges
7.  Time Outs/Grounding
8.  Forced exercise (to promote/encourage focus/get the willys out)
9.  Explanation of the dynamics of budgeting and the impact of the cost of private school
10.  Drinking (by us, not them)

Literally, over the summer, as the days progressed and seventh, fifth and first grades loomed in the not-so-distant distance, we started to have little mini-attacks that generally ended with us tucking in the kids around 10pm and eating ice cream in bed to comfort ourselves.

At some point we decided dairy wasn't the answer.  We needed to take action.  And we seriously considered hiring a $60/hour "academic coach" for one of the kids.  We figured we could leave the heavy lifting to him/her and wash our hands of the whole thing.  And, in the process, free ourselves up to deal with the other two and their homework loads.

There were delays upon delays getting the coach situated.  And then the big phone call came with matches that fit what we asked for at times that were completely insane for our family.  Since school had already started and our level of physical, emotional and spiritual pain was still pretty low, we declined to sign on the dotted line.

Through a series of brutally honest conversations with each other, we figured out what was/wasn't working in our kid's afternoon routines.  We made some tough decisions.  We prayed over the situation.  And we decided what hills we were willing to die on and which we would just crawl over.  We figured out that our previous way of doing things was probably doing more harm than good.  And we had a good, old-fashioned family talk over dinner and laid out our plans for school year 2012-2013.

Sure, there was some griping.  Sure, there was gnashing of the teeth.  Sure, not everyone agreed with our plans.  But, Mom and Dad weren't backing down.  And as none of our kids is independently wealthy,  moving out wasn't an option.  So, onward and upward we went, together.

The first week of school, I have to admit, has been crazy pleasant.  Partially because the seventh graders had a reduced schedule, partially because I am not looking at the clock every ten minutes to see if it is 5pm and I can get a drink to calm my nerves.

The way I figure it, God had been watching from the sidelines for many a year, shaking His head in wonder that we still hadn't heard His whispers.  He knew things like medication and academic coaching and another new school weren't the answer. 

He had a much bigger plan in store for us.  It was called "the hard work of parenting".  And, of all crazy things, He wanted us to parent our OWN kids and do what felt right to us, which was what He would have done were He on earth doing the dirty work for us.  Once we figured that out, the rest kind of fell into place.

Now, I'm not proposing that this year is going to be without bumps and bruises and uphill climbs.  I know that is coming.  But, I also know that a kinder, gentler, easier spirit is residing in me right now.  One that knows that I'm not being mean by putting my kids to work on their homework right after school and a snack.  One that limits all electronics to a time after everyone in the house is finished with their school work.  One that will gladly pass the buck to the teacher for a judgment call, instead of trying to force the issue at home and losing my mind trying.

In other words, we are letting the chips fall where they will.  If one of the kids interprets the instructions to "cut and paste" as "cut only", guess who is getting an email?  And, if that means double the work to make up for the inability to understand very clear instructions, then so be it.  A extra bit of hard work never killed anyone I personally know.

Life is about these types of lessons.  It is about forging our way on our own path but figuring out that ours isn't the only path that matters.  It is about interpreting ideas and directions and projects and deciding how you are going to tackle them;  sometimes, you'll get tackled back in the process.  But, I can assure you, the next time, you'll know better.

And that is really the crux of this year:  letting our children determine HOW to approach school and letting their leaders correct them when they go off course.  If, in the process, grades fail or privileges for recess are rescinded or Saturday school is assigned, good.  Better to learn how to follow the leader now than in your twenties, right?

So, I guess I can conclude this post with this one statement:  I may be a parent, but I don't always have the answers and I don't always get it right and I don't always figure it out promptly.  Eight years into school, this is what I finally know:  the school of hard knocks can be tough, but coming home should be the place where the warrior can lick his wounds, dress his injuries, and recharge for the next day.

Funny how we had it backward all these years.

Funnier still how right it feels now that we think we have it right.