Learning From My Kids to Go With the Flow

HEIDI HODGES

Heidi Hodges likes people and places and things (in that order). Some of those things are big hair, wearing the same thing everyday, tabletop games, dancing, and traveling. She lives with her dashing husband, three young sons, and a killer cat in New Jersey.

I like feeling in control. I like making plans and sticking to them, unless I'm the one who decides on something different. I usually like it when things turn out how I expected. I like when things work out well—who doesn't? But when a wrench is thrown into my plans . . . that's when it gets tough for me. Some say, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, but I'm moving towards a different philosophy. More like, when the going gets tough, the wise go with the flow. 

We are in the middle of a heat-wave right now. It's ruining some of my plans. The yard is overrun with weeds, the air conditioning is wracking up my electric bill, and we actually start to feel sick if we are outside too long. Hiding inside is not how I want to spend my summer, but . . . we can’t control the weather. Sometimes it’s just going to be too hot. Sometimes there are going to be situations we can’t control.

One day, we were supposed to go to the lake to swim. It was so hot, we would’ve baked and burnt, and my energy reserves were not up to that level of parenting. I told my kids we couldn't go, and they were upset. For a surprisingly short amount of time. Then they rolled with it and found a fun thing to do inside. I was shocked. There they were, having a good time, while I had been fretting about all the things I wanted to do and couldn't do in the heat; my worry added a wart to what could have been a beautiful opportunity. Maybe the hot weather wasn’t ruining my day; maybe I was ruining my own day.

Thankfully, I can recognize when plans need to change. I don't often push through to complete things at the expense of health, sanity, and pleasure. But I often mourn my original plans much longer than necessary. I think "If only.... If only.... If only…," and it's really not very helpful. I linger on the things I miss out on instead of seeing what’s next. When I was frustrated with my fretting on that too-hot day, I looked at my kids, and my jaw nearly dropped out how swiftly and easily they adapted to the new situation. How did they do that? What's the difference between them and me?

I observed, and I pondered, and this is what I came up with:

They don’t worry too much about the future or the past. Perhaps it is the difference between children's and adult's brain chemistry, but children are excellent at living in the now. Treats are only special now. Frustrations are only terrible now. Waiting is a somewhat elusive concept. And where a kid's at, there they are. It is helpful to use them as a reminder that I am, in fact, presently and irrevocably now, despite how much my mind spends thinking about other times.

They adapt to the situation they’re in. For pure practicality, my children have very little say in where they spend their days, so they don't try to control what they know they can't. I do have more freedom and control in general when it comes to our day-to-day lives, so I use it. But sometimes I try to control too much, or try to get it perfect, which can be detrimental. Kids have more practice understanding what they can't control. It's better if I practice reminding myself the same.

They are not as stuck in their ways as I am. Being young, they simply haven't had the chance to dig themselves into ruts as I have. I've spent 35 years figuring out what I like and how I like it. Their outlook is smooth as glass, allowing them ease in sliding from one thing to the next, one idea to the next (although physically moving from one place to the next seems to be the one area where I excel above my children). In contrast, my outlook is riddled with the obstacles of my own habits and preferences. I need to realize that although it's certainly nice, I don't need things to be my way all the time.

They don’t always know what they are missing. They haven’t seen as much or done as much as I have so they don’t know the wonders a single day can hold. Life is small and simple for them. I’ve had some truly wonderful days, spectacularly productive days, and enormously easy and enjoyable days. And I suppose that I strive to make each day the best that it can be. But the longer I live, that bar keeps getting raised higher and higher, and it’s simply not feasible, not statistically possible, to reach the peak of my humanity each day. This is no fault of mine, despite my momentous efforts, so I don’t deserve the blame.

Of course these findings and conclusions are based on the personalities and traits of my own family — we don’t have any anxiety disorders or developmental deviations. Whatever your particular situation, it can be illuminating to remember that adults can learn from children like they can learn from us. Diversifying who we interact with can spark changes, make connections, and help us grow in ways we couldn't on our own. I wouldn’t want to go back to the dependency of childhood, but it is interesting to notice the behavior differences between generations and try to find a balance. Humans are social creatures, and we benefit from cooperating as a group, even if that group is as small as a parent and their children.