Recently my daughter and I had a date night. I had a couple of ideas for the evening, but when we drove by a local bowling alley, the sign caught her attention, and our plans quickly changed. We grabbed shoes and got her the lightest ball they had, and soon we were ready to play the game. I am competitive by nature, and while I understand that it is inappropriate, I really wanted to a) get lots of strikes and spares, and b) not be beaten by a kid. So, I picked out just the right ball, bowled a warm-up frame or two, and figured out just exactly where I needed to aim to knock down the most pins.
Let the games begin!
Somewhere around the 5th frame, I remembered that this was supposed to be an opportunity to build relationship with my kiddo, and that I should not focus quite so much on getting the pins down and a little more on enjoying time with my daughter (embarrassing to say, but unfortunately true…). So I began to watch her a little more closely. She was a terribly inconsistent bowler. One ball would be right down the middle of the lane and knock down several pins, the next would be in the gutter. But the more I watched, the more fascinated I became with her reaction, no matter what the result.
Celebration. Exuberance. Excitement. Joy.
Gutter ball or strike. Didn’t matter if she knocked down one pin or all the pins. She was excited about every small achievement, every tiny improvement on her score. It was being in the game together that made her happy.
I spend a lot of time with parents whose children are in foster care. And I have lots of ideas about what they should be achieving and how they should be behaving. You need to get a certain kind of job. You need to have a better home. You need to get yourself mentally healthy. You need to be a better parent. You need to be more responsible. You need to visit your kids more reliably. You need to pass your drug screen all the time. And while those things may very well all be true, what is also true is that I don’t celebrate with them nearly enough. I complain about the visit missed and don’t celebrate the one made. I gripe if they don’t parent as well as I want them to. I write them off if they struggle with relapsing into their addictions. I judge them on every aspect of life, and I do not stop to celebrate what is accomplished. In the face of terrible odds – poverty, poor social supports, addiction, depression, hopelessness – we should be amazed that some moms and dads can manage to get out of bed in the morning. Perhaps I should learn to celebrate the fact that we are even in the game together.
And for those who are interested? 105-103 – mom wins:)
So thankful for your perspective and honesty in self-evaluation. Really hit home with me in dealing with everyone in my life!
I enjoyed reading the story between you and your daughter and your honesty about your own self needs during the game. I especially enjoyed your insightfulness about your perception versus the realities of the population you work with. As a social worker, I too “spend time” with families who have similar traits and have done so for for over 10 years. Within the last few years I have learned to be more compassionate and understanding of a person’s plight rather than judging them for what they don’t have or what their circumstances might be. I believe that in order for those families to experience more success in life there must be surrounded by more people with our similar thought patterns. ln the meantime, let us both continue to celebrate with the parents for their success. Thank you.
Good reminder to celebrate the steps along the journey
I have always loved, loved, loved your stories. And I have always wanted to doing something positive for children (and now parents!) in the foster care system. Slowly, but surely, you are pointing me in the right direction. I will find that something. This blog is just dang inspiring. Such a lovely soul you have, Deb. Thank you.