I calmly respond, “Oh really, sweetie? What’s it start with?” ever aware that we’ve got little, little four-year-old sister ears, listening with silent attentiveness.
Him: “Well, I don’t really wanna say . . . But it’s the swear word for fish poop.”
Me (totally lost and unsure of where this is going): “Huhhhh? Fish poop? I don’t think I even know that one Taggart. Fish poop. Nope. You got me. I have no idea. You’re gonna have to give me a letter. Or just spell it. DON”T SAY IT (little ears). Just spell it.”
Him: “O.K. Mom . . .” And with a deep breath he spells “B-A-S-S . . . T-U-R-D”.
Bass Turd.
I don’t even get it at first. Have to say it slow to myself and then I’m like, Oh My Goodness! And so quick am I to make sure his spelling is right, I chime in: “No, no, honey, don’t you mean B-A-S-T. . . “ And then I stop myself. Just in time. What am I thinking?? I’m not going there if he’s not there yet! Parenting 202. Duh!
BASS TURD = FISH POOP = VERY BAD SWEAR WORD
Ahhh, those were the days. When fish poop and bad words were the extent of pushing the envelope and testing the boundaries. Now, at the ripe old age of twelve, Taggart is testing us in lots of other ways, with puberty relentlessly knocking and a flimsy little moustache to announce its inevitable onset (a moustache, mind you, that he is VERY proud of and flaunts with aplomb!), I’m a little intimidated by this new territory. I KNOW it’s coming, it’s normal, and many other good people have survived it, that I should embrace his growth and development with enthusiasm and delight . . . but this Fifty Shades of Puberty we are in the midst of feels very precarious and unfamiliar; the jury’s still out on how it’s going to go (and whether or not I'll survive!) . . .
Part of me thinks, “Uhmmm, can we just go back to 'fish poop' please???” And how lucky am I, with another soon-to-be-eight-year-old right at my very fingertips, to get to revisit bad words and black and white, right vs. wrong thinking? As if on cue, when I went in to wake Sage up this morning, she reported, “Mom, Taggart came in earlier and said to me ‘Turn your DAMN alarm off!’ He shouldn’t say that, right??” And when I quickly agree but add “Neither should you”, she cheekily responds with another of her current favorite “Taggart” sayings:
“Yeah, well rules are made to be broken Mom!”
On the brink of 8, she should be an expert on black and white thinking and rule-following. And mostly, she is. Her teachers say she always raises her hand in class, follows "The Golden Rule", and uses good manners; she (almost) always eats her vegetables before her dessert; and, she almost never says bad words. And by bad in this family we mean: FART, CRAP, STUPID, IDIOT, I HATE YOU AND SHUT-UP. And of course, that BASS TURD and DAMN. All bad, very bad, and if uttered, trouble with a capital “T” (mostly just a verbal reprimand but once, and only once, Sage’s big brother Taggart had a wee taste of a bar of soap for the “F” word, and by that I DO NOT mean “F-A-R-T”. . . ).
As challenging as parenting can be and no matter what stage we find our kids in, witnessing, honoring, and helping them navigate their developmental stages is one of our hardest and best jobs as parents. As I watch my kids dance – clumsy and graceful - through their developmental stages, and as I dance/stumble/trip through my own, I have come to the conclusion that life and development – mine, yours, my kids – is a complicated balance of circles and boxes, rules and permission slips, mazes and labyrinths, sun and moon and neatly framed family photos over the mantle . . .
It seems we go from the circle of the womb to childhood's playpen and kindergarten rules; to our teenage and early adulthood years where we question most everything (often in a circular manner much to our own and our parents’ frustration!), until we settle on some semblance of order and create our own homemade boxes in which to begin our grown-up lives.
Then, we often outgrow those, wander through a few more mazes, perhaps find solace and answers in a labyrinth that takes us to the center and back out of ourselves, where we might settle squarely again in the middle of our lives – with house, spouse, kids, pets, schools. Or not. Or perhaps, we feel we are spinning away on one of the gerbil wheels, circular running, running, running but getting nowhere. Or not.
These stages – and our movement or lack thereof – are completely and wholly our own. And challenging assumptions and asking questions – about where we are in life, how we are doing, if we are happy - is key to understanding who we have been and who we are. Listening for and honoring the answers helps us become more of who we are meant to be. And breaking some of the rules – AND KNOWING WHICH ONES TO BREAK - is simply part of the process.
Pushing against some boundaries – our parents’, our teachers’, society’s, our own – helps us better define who we are and who we want to be. If we don’t push a little, we don’t know what greater good we might be capable of.
Teaching my kids the art of questioning and the art of letting go (of archaic rules or ways of being that no longer serve them) is part of my job. It’s risky business for sure but if we don’t teach our kids to take healthy risks, we are doing them a disservice. If we don’t teach them to question what doesn’t make sense to them, we are teaching them to not trust themselves. And teaching our kids to trust themselves is one of the most important gifts we can give them.
If there are any “rules” I want my kids to tattoo on their sweet hearts, it is the following “Rules For Being Human” written by Dr. Cherie Carter-Scott.
The Rules For being Human
1. You will receive a body. You may like it or hate it, but it's the only thing you are sure to keep for the rest of your life.We all have within us this potential, to remember who we are and that we have everything inside of us to become our best selves. To be fully human. For sure, we will stumble, we will fall. We will make mistakes. That's part of the process, part of the plan.
2. You will learn lessons. You are enrolled in a full-time informal school called "Life on Planet Earth". Every person or incident is the Universal Teacher.
3. There are no mistakes, only lessons. Growth is a process of experimentation. "Failures" are as much a part of the process as "success."
4. A lesson is repeated until learned. It is presented to you in various forms until you learn it -- then you can go on to the next lesson.
5. If you don't learn easy lessons, they get harder. External problems are a precise reflection of your internal state. When you clear inner obstructions, your outside world changes. Pain is how the universe gets your attention.
6. You will know you've learned a lesson when your actions change. Wisdom is practice. A little of something is better than a lot of nothing.
7. "There" is no better than "here". When your "there" becomes a "here" you will simply obtain another "there" that again looks better than "here."
8. Others are only mirrors of you. You cannot love or hate something about another unless it reflects something you love or hate in yourself.
9. Your life is up to you. Life provides the canvas; you do the painting. Take charge of your life -- or someone else will.
10. You always get what you want. Your subconscious rightfully determines what energies, experiences, and people you attract -- therefore, the only foolproof way to know what you want is to see what you have. There are no victims, only students.
11. There is no right or wrong, but there are consequences. Moralizing doesn't help. Judgments only hold the patterns in place. Just do your best.
12. Your answers lie inside you. Children need guidance from others; as we mature, we trust our hearts, where the Laws of Spirit are written. You know more than you have heard or read or been told. All you need to do is to look, listen, and trust.
13. You will forget all this.
14. You can remember any time you wish.
When we scrape our knees, we will say “Damn!” or “Bass Turd!”
And then we'll get up, dust ourselves off, and we’ll keep dancing.
Tap away my friend.
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