Lately I have been relishing being a parent of an 8 year old boy. Particularly mine who is so independent in many ways and yet still willing to snuggle me in the mornings. He is finally getting our jokes and discovering delight in making us coffee on Sunday mornings all by himself. Asking his usual profound questions about why the world works the way it does and how to traverse the kitchen floor in a pattern that consumes as many linoleum squares as possible.
And I am SO happy that I am his parent and not his teacher. Because today he let me in on something - he cheats at P.E. Yup - he gleefully confessed to walking around the track until a teacher came into sight and then jogging by them so he didn't get reprimanded (actually he acted all this out as usual). My first reaction was of course to be the old stick in mud and say something like "Running is good exercise and it's not OK to cheat.'' But then it hit me - he felt totally safe letting me in on his secret. We both laughed and I had a realization - THIS is the relationship I want with him. One of total safety and understanding and love and laughter. Because I was probably just like him as a third grader. Learning how to cut the corners in school and what things are important and what things are just rules. (And I hated running too).
There are other benefits to being a parent and not a teacher. Like being able to really voice my opinion when he asks me what happened at Pearl Harbor and why the U.S. dropped the atomic bombs on Japan. Or why the president went to war with Iraq when they didn't really have any weapons of mass destruction. I don't have to present the facts objectively. I can try to make a pacifist out of my boy who is growing up in an era where war has been on the front page since he learned how to read.
No comments:
Post a Comment