Bryan and I are both urban transplants. Also introverts. There are things that we really like about city life: anonymity... diversity... seven Targets within ten minutes... But one thing we don't really care for is neighbors. Not our neighbors in particular, just having them. When we were growing up, we didn't have the run of a neighborhood where we would freely visit kids' homes without invitation, or ride our bikes to the park and hang out with whoever happened to be there. We had our siblings and animals for friends and a stack of haybales for playground equipment. And it was great.
I think the concept of "free-range" parenting is quite interesting, although I could never be a free-range parent. I don't trust the world enough. There are too many guns and racists and sex offenders. (Ironically, the one neighbor I did have when I was very young turned out to be a sex offender.) But still - the idea of trusting your kids to discover their own limits and giving them space to create their own unscripted, unparented adventures - I can appreciate that ideology. And I've found a place for it.
The pond.
When we were house hunting, we took a quick pass through this house, which checked off most of the boxes on our demand list, stepped out onto the back deck, and were sold. Sure the pond was pretty, but what it meant to us was our yard wasn't cut short by someone else's yard. At the time, our kids were so little, we immediately put up a fence to secure them from getting to the pond. But now that our kids are 8, 9, and 10, adventures abound at the pond. In the winter, it's sledding and skating and running forever in a field of open snow. The summer months bring on adventures of "setting up camp" in the woods and "fishing", frog hunts, and climbing trees. And I try to stay out of the way as much as possible. That is why this candid video is such poor quality. That day, the siblings had been at the pond for hours without parents in the way, and I didn't want to ruin it by showing up uninvited. The kids take their adventures to school, sharing their mishaps in their journals and with their teachers, and I know when they are grown, there will be lingering stories of uninhibited childhood.
We got 19 inches of snow on April 14-15. It was enough to shut everything down -even church - even here in MN where we pride ourselves in not letting anything stop us. And on Monday, the kids got their 3rd snow day for the year. I had hoped for a real Minnesnowta winter, and I got what I asked for.
I've found myself in a strange place. I'm the mom of a kid who wins. In my youth, I recall winning exactly one trophy. It's wooden with a gold sheep on the top. I didn't even win it for showing a champion sheep in a sheep show. I won it for designing an advertisement promoting a breed of sheep for a magazine.
Regardless, I do possess a competitive spirit. Just try playing boggle with me. But here I am, this non-champion - and far from athletic - mom, spending a lot of time in the bleachers and on the sidelines of a kid who oozes athletic ability. And what do I say to my kid just before he goes off to crush his opponent? Well, I've come up with some doozies:
"Winning is 20% strength, 20% skill, and 60% wanting it more than the other guy." (Of course, I know nothing about strength or skill.) After he got used to me saying this, I would just ask him, "How bad do you want it?" and he would respond, "More than the other guy!"
"Are you here to play games or are you here to win?" I went right down to the mat to tell him this when I caught him playing video games on his teammate's phone between matches.
"Win like a champion, and lose like a champion,"-quickly followed by "...but don't lose." When it's just one athlete up against another athlete, a loss can really sting - and many kids don't know how to handle that loss publicly. At the end of the match, wrestlers are expected to come back to the center of the mat and shake their opponent's hand, then go over and shake the opponent's coach's hand. But often the kid will pitch a fit, throw his headgear down, stomp off, cry, or slap his opponent's hand. The above little words of advice were followed by a simple threat: "If you ever do that, I will come down there and pin you to the mat." It would be pretty embarrassing to have your white mom pin you to the mat, so lose like a champion...(but don't lose).
"You're good, but if you want to be great, shovel." "Shovel" can be replaced with any physically demanding household chore. The basic message here is natural ability will only get you so far. So work hard.
"Our goal isn't third. We're setting our eyes on first." I said this to his coach in front of him at regionals just in case he was thinking about slacking off during his last couple matches. My point was clear that just "making it to state" was not good enough. (By this point in the tournament, I had seen the other kids wrestle and knew Reggie was capable of winning - or I wouldn't have said it.)
"You can have the cookie, or you can compete at state. You choose." Let me make it clear that as a general rule, we don't push Reggie cut weight. But a couple weeks before state, he had to declare a weight bracket - and then the Easter Bunny came. In the days before the tournament, he needed to lose a pound. Self-discipline is hard - keep your eye on the prize!
"Your opponent is not staying up late partying." When you're at a hotel with your teammates, it's tempting to expend your energy late into the night around the pool.
"Let's get third and end your season on a win." When there were four wrestlers left in the championship bracket at state, Reggie met his match and lost. But the consolation bracket was still wide open. He had ten minutes to be disappointed, then it was time to hit the reset button.
(He did.)
I also uploaded the full uncut matches for Papa and Mike here: part 1 and part 2
We usually stay home and have grandparents come for Easter. However, this year both sets of grandparents were planning to see us the next weekend at the state wrestling tournament, so it was just the five of us. Every year, we attend an experiential worship Good Friday service at a local church. Part of the experience is petting a donkey!
Here was a first and probably a keeper: Lydia and I made hot cross buns. Yum!
Reggie and I made banana cream brownies. Reggie does more sampling than helping.
Brett made his "famous" fruit salad, but I didn't get a picture of it. He's too independent in the kitchen!
Lydia really wanted to wear an Easter bonnet this year!
She received the entire series of The Chronicles of Narnia in her Easter bag. Brett got a Bible and Reggie got Who was Jesus? by Ellen Morgan.
We got five fresh inches of snow on Easter. That made the backyard egg hunt extra exciting!
