MuddyPuddles

As a father who felt that it was important to teach the boys some responsibility, I decided that daily chores were in order.  These chores needed to be age appropriate so that the boys could handle them adequately.  Although I can’t remember each chore that the boys did through the years, one chore stands out very clearly in my mind.

And that chore was Jarod’s job of emptying the various trash receptacles in the house.  It’s amazing how many small trash “cans” we had in the house.  There were trash cans in each bedroom, in each bathroom and in the kitchen.  There was also a larger one in the garage.

Each day, Jarod was to empty out the trash cans that needed emptying and put all the trash into a trash bag or into the large trash can located in the garage.  When that can was full it was to be tied up and taken to the street for garbage pickup. 

After a few days of this, it seemed to Jarod that it just wasn’t reasonable to have to empty a trash can that only had a little bit of trash in it.  After all, if there was plenty of room for more trash, why did it have to stay totally empty all the time.  So Jarod came up with a plan to help determine if a trash can did in fact need to be emptied.  Armed with that plan, he came to me to ask if we could implement that plan.

The plan was that if a trash can was less than half full, it shouldn’t have to be emptied.  That seemed reasonable to me and I didn’t really care if the can was completely empty as long as there was always room to throw your trash when necessary and as long as he was being “responsible”.  So, I agreed to Jarod’s plan. 

That was the last time I saw the bottom half of a trash can on a regular basis.  From that day forward, anytime the trash would get over the halfway mark, Jarod would take out the largest item or item’s to help lower the level of the trash.  If that did not suffice, he would then become a human trash compactor.  He would put his foot into the trash can and compress the trash down below the mid level mark.  Sometimes he had to put all his weight into it and even jump up and down to complete the job. 

Being the rule keeper that he was, he complied with the letter of the law and thereby provided us with half full trash cans all over the house.  In addition to that, Jarod developed a couple of useful skills along the way.  He became quite good at estimating volume and at deciphering fractions.   He knew just what size object he would have to remove to get to the necessary one-half mark.  Why settle for learning one skill if you can master three.   It was a productive venture.

When the boys were in about the 1^st and 6^th grade they had a daily ritual of coming home after school and turning on the television and watching cartoons or kid shows.  Sometimes they would go outside to play for awhile but would come back in and watch TV again.

As the evening would wear on there was a struggle that would develop around several of our daily rituals.   It was difficult to get the boys to do their homework.  Very little conversation took place during the evening meal.   It was hard to get the boys ready for and actually into bed.  It just wasn’t a positive environment around our house in the afternoons and evenings.

It was common for tensions to rise and frustrations to set in.  The environment just wasn’t conducive to effective living and to good family relationships.  Something needed to be done.

We decided that the television was the common denominator to the problems.  Everything seemed to revolve around our eyes and our minds being glued to the set.  Therefore, we made a rule that from Sunday night at 6:00 p.m. the television went off and that it couldn’t come on again until Friday after school was out. 

This felt pretty drastic, but we decided that we would try it for a week or two to see if it made any difference in our lives.  Also, we decided that it would be good if one of us (meaning Bonnie, the better story reader, usually) would read a story every night at bedtime.  The boys enjoyed her story reading and this would make it a little easier to adapt to the new TV rule.

It was really hard that first few days without the TV.  We had really gotten spoiled with the “no effort required” evening activities.  It just seemed so natural to just walk in and turn on the TV.  But, we stuck to our guns and left the TV off. 

The results were incredible.  Now, without the “one-eyed monster” to entertain them, the boys started playing outside more.  It took less of an ordeal to get them to do their homework.  We actually started having conversations around the dinner table.  The boys were much more motivated to get their pajamas on and get into bed so that they could hear the next chapter of the book that Bonnie was reading.  It was wonderful.

It soon got to be that the boys, even on the nights when TV was allowed, if given a choice, would choose to listen to Bonnie read the next chapter in the book rather than watching some show on the television set.  It was go great to hear them in there laughing or being intrigued by the turn of events or asking questions about what might happen next.  It was a powerful thing to behold and one of the wisest things we ever did.

When my oldest son, Jeff, was about 10 years old, Bonnie and I took the boys on a ski trip to Ruidoso, New Mexico .  We had been skiing before and Jeff had taken lessons and I had worked with him some, so he knew how to ski and get on the chair lifts and all those other basics one needs to know when hitting the slopes.  Jarod, on the other hand, at age 5 was experiencing his first outing.

At that time, all skiers had to start at the base where a two person chair-lift could take them up the mountain where there were several options for more chair-lifts that could take them even further up the mountain.  Since it was at Christmas time, the lines at the bottom lift were fairly long.

To make the line move more rapidly, the staff encouraged people who were skiing single (without a partner) to yell “single” so that they could be paired up with someone else who was also “single” so they could ride the chairlift together.  This was oftentimes a great advantage for the single skier because he had the opportunity to legally cut in line for the good of all. 

Since I was there with both my boys and Bonnie wasn’t too interested in skiing that day, I told Jeff that I needed to help Jarod get on and off the lift and that he needed to yell out “single” so that he could ride with someone else.  Jeff wasn’t too keen on the idea of riding up with a stranger, but after some gentle prodding he reluctantly hitched a ride.  I told him to wait for us at the top. 

When Jarod and I arrived at the top we found Jeff waiting as agreed.  To my pleasant surprise, Jeff’s first words were (with enthusiasm) “man, that guy was interesting!”  “Really,” I said.  “Yeah, he was interesting!”

My first thought was “what could someone say on a 5 minute chairlift ride that would make a 10 year old boy think he was interesting?”  So, I asked Jeff to tell me what was said.  After a brief explanation of the ride, it dawned on me that this was a perfect teaching opportunity.  So, we spent the next few minutes observing (wisdom) what had taken place and then capitalizing on it for use in our own lives.

What had taken place was that Jeff’s “new best friend” had asked Jeff a few questions.   He had asked Jeff where he was from and how old he was.  He had asked him how long he had been at the ski slopes and how many days he was going to be here.  He had asked him about which ski run was his favorite.  He had asked him about his family and about his favorite sports.  In short, all the conversation was about Jeff.

So, I reaffirmed to Jeff that he thought this guy was interesting, “right”?  Jeff said “yes.”  And I pointed out that all the questions the guy had asked were about you, “right”?  Jeff said “yes.”  And I pointed out the human nature in us that makes us believe that people who are interested in us are interesting to us.  And a light bulb came on in Jeff’s head.

I asked Jeff if he wanted people to think he was interesting.  He said, “yes.”  Then what you need to do is to ask the people about themselves and they will see you as an interesting person.  The light bulb brightened.  We then set about picking out about 5 or 6 questions that Jeff could ask each of the new best friend strangers he would be riding with so that he would be prepared to ask them the questions. 

From that moment on, Jeff’s outlook on the day changed.  Originally he was planning to ride the chairlift so he could ski down the mountain.  Now, his purpose was to ski down the mountain so he could ride the chairlift.  It was great to watch him eagerly yelling out “single” and then to watch him in line as he anxiously waited for the chair ride to start.  Then he would start pummeling his new companion with questions.  It was great!  He ended the day feeling very interesting indeed.

Now, as a grown man, Jeff is considered a very interesting person by many people.  Bonnie and I receive compliments about him all the time.  And, periodically, I gratefully think back to that friendly stranger on that two man chairlift on the mountain.  And I thank him for being such an “interesting” person.  I’m sure he doesn’t have a clue about how much impact his friendliness has made in Jeff’s life.  It was a defining moment.  May God Bless him and May God Bless you.  Have an awesome week!  Dennis 

My son had the advantage of not only having team coaches, but I could also give him personal instruction.  I was sure he would respect and appreciate the extra wisdom I could impart to him.  After all, I am an expert on basketball, as well as many other sports and topics in general.  If you don’t believe me, just ask me.

Our family ritual for the games would be that we as parents would root for the team, in general, and for our son, in particular.  The other parents had the same ritual.  Win, lose or draw we were all sure that we got short changed by the referees and that coaches should have let our respective son play more.  Then came the car ride home.

We would get in the car and begin the ride home with the encouraging words “you played a good game Jarod.” 

Jarod’s response would be, “no I didn’t.  I played horrible.”

“No, you played good!”  “You stole the ball three times and you made six points.  You played good.”   

“I threw the ball out of bounds twice and I missed a bunch of shots!  I stunk out there!”

Then, on top of that dialogue, I would try to interject a few pointers to help him improve his game.  Obviously, that went over like a lead balloon. 

By the time we got home, everyone was mad and miserable and in a generally bad mood.  Jarod would storm out of the car and we would just roll our eyes and wonder “where did we go wrong.”   It did not make it easy for us to have an enjoyable Saturday afternoon.  It made us wonder if it was all worth it.  You go to all this extra trouble and expense to have this pleasurable and developmental opportunity and you wind up being frustrated by it.   What’s wrong with this picture? 

The problem didn’t seem to start until we opened our mouths and said something in the car ride home.  Therefore, if we didn’t say anything, maybe the problem would not surface.  It was worth a shot.  It couldn’t be worse than what had been happening.

So, when next Saturday rolled around and the game was played we got into the car for the ride home, no one said a word.  Silence.  Dead silence for several minutes.  Then Jarod said, “I played horrible!”

In the most downtrodden and empathetic tone I could muster I said, “hmm.”  (sound starts off at one level and trails downward).

Silence. 

Then Jarod said, “I dribbled the ball out of bounds one time and I let that idiot steal the ball from me once.  He’s such a lousy player but he stole it from me!  I played horrible!”

Again, in that same “poor Jarod” tone I said, “hmm.”

Silence.

“I can’t believe I’m such a lousy player.  I let the team down.”

I changed my response a little bit as if to say “that’s a tough break” by saying “ummh.”

Silence.

“I did steal the ball from him, twice, though.”

(Now in my up beat positive voice like there may be life on earth after all) “Hmm.” (sound starts at one level, goes up and then trails down.)

“And I did make eight points.”

Another positive “hmm.”

By the time we got home the world was at peace and the air was clear and fresh and life was worth living again.  There was a distinct absence of the negative vibes we had experienced earlier.  As we pulled into the driveway I could even say, “You are just a good player, Jarod,” to which he would respond, “thanks” as he trotted off on his merry way. 

The pointers and instruction I wanted to give could generally come later that afternoon or on some other day when we would be out on the driveway playing a little basketball.  Then, I could say something to the effect that “when so and so happens, you might want to try such and such and see if it makes a difference.”  Those kinds of instructions were usually received (at least in part) much more readily than the old cram it down your throat method.  And even if they weren’t received well, I decided it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he didn’t take any of my basketball instructions to heart.  After all, baseball’s coming up shortly.

(I posted the following as a comment on my “Transition” post.  Since not everyone reads the comments, I wanted to post it as a stand alone, as well, because I think the message is powerful.  Enjoy.)
When my youngest son, Jarod, was driving his old ford extended cab pickup too fast one night on the county road, he came to an unexpected Tee.  This meant he had to either stop real fast (too late for that), go straight ahead (and crash through the fence) or to try to make the turn at a high rate of speed.  He elected to make the turn.  He almost made it and I would have never known about it.  If the road had not been graded (I hate it when the county commissioners do their jobs well) he would have slid sideways into the bar ditch and come to a screeching sideways halt.  But, since the road had been graded (those darn commissioners), there was a sharp cut little groove (ditch) on the edge of the road that would not let his tires slide on into the ditch.  Therefore, that became the pivot point for the truck to turn over.  He said it was like slow motion.  His friend, Victor, was in the passenger seat and got the biggest part of the thrill ride since his side of the pickup went highest into the air as it rolled. 
Jarod caught a ride home and told us that he turned his pickup over.  I said “Your kidding.”  He said, “I’m not kidding.”  I said, “Are you all right?”  He said “Yes” and he told us the whole story about what happened.  I loaded him up in my pickup so we could go recover his tools and equipment from the truck.  I told him that I was so thankful that everyone was okay and that no one was hurt.  We went over all the “it’s a shame they graded the road” scenarios and all the “what if” scenarios.  We covered the “what do we need to do next” scenarios.  Never—Not one time—was there an ounce of scolding or “teaching” or “let this be a lesson” or “I hope you learned something”.  We had none of that. 
After we came back home and before Jarod finally went to bed, he came back into our room and said, “I just want to tell you how much I appreciate both of you for not griping at me about this.  I really appreciate it.  It means a lot to me.”  He was at peace and thankful to have parents who didn’t harp on him. 
Our relationship deepened that night.  If we had griped at him, the best we could have hoped for would be that the relationship stayed the same.  Most likely it would have been a little bit diminished.  Because of this and other situations like this, Jarod feels safe to tell us anything now.  How blessed I feel to have that kind of relationship with him.  (It’s the kind of relationship I always hoped for.)  He knows we are for him and not against him—even when he messes up. 

That’s what I was talking about in the previous post.  I’m not say we just tell everyone to go out and live wildly and drink and cuss and whatever they want.  I’m saying that we should make this (our church) a safe place to confess our faults and to say I’m struggling without fear of condemnation or self-righteous lecturing (or even humble lecturing in many cases).  Even if we are correct in our theology, if the message is not received then our correctness is wasted.  True love necessarily means that it is more important to take the action that is most likely to achieve the desired result (of bringing that struggling brother back) than it is to take the action that covers our (“we are not going to allow sin and error”) bases.  The first is focused on our brother, the second is focused on ourselves.  The first benefits us all, including our struggling brother.  The second diminishes us all, especially our struggling brother.  God Bless you as you ponder these choices. Dennis

When my youngest son, Jarod, was in elementary school he was in the top of his class.  He was in all the top academic groups and the top behavior groups and he usually was the fastest kid on the daily playground footrace.  His friend, Cody, would win those races sometimes, but it was always one of those two.  He was such a competitor and an ideal student that one teacher told us that if she were to have another kid of her own that she would want him to be just like Jarod.  That was at school.  At home, he was usually a good kid, but sometimes—sometimes he needed to blow off the steam that had built up at school.  He was such an intense person that it had to come out somewhere and sometime.  So, I guess it was better for it to come out at home than at school.  I could identify with him because I was exactly the same way when I was a kid (except for the top of the class part and the running the fastest part).  I had my difficult moments at home, as well.  Several times I’ve heard my mom say that I wasn’t happy unless I had all my brothers and sisters crying.  That wasn’t true, however.  I wasn’t happy even then.  Therefore, I could relate to Jarod’s difficult side.

When he was somewhere around the second grade I remember one day when he was being difficult and I tried several times to persuade him to not be that way.  I threatened him multiple times to no avail.  (My dad used to warn me by saying that if I didn’t straighten up it would be “too wet to plow.”  I don’t know if Jarod would have understood that farming terminology threat or not but I probably used it anyway since that was what was used on me.  It didn’t really even make a lot of practical sense to me (I liked it when it was “too wet to plow”) but when dad said it I usually backed off just in case he meant something bad.)   Since nothing was working, I finally spanked Jarod and then I hugged him.  He cried for a little bit and then, after a few minutes, he went on his merry way.  He was like a different child.  He was happy.

It finally dawned on me that it was not easy for him to change his behavior, even if he hated being that way (as I did), without some event to give him an excuse to change.  The only way he could “save face” was if I “forced” him to change by spanking him.  Then, he didn’t have a choice but to change.  It didn’t even have to be a hard spanking.  He just needed an excuse.  With this new knowledge came the realization that I was not doing him any big favors by just continually warning him.  I realized that he was asking, without asking, for an excuse to modify his behavior.  Therefore, from that time forward I didn’t wait so long to spank him.  That way he could get back to his carefree life much more quickly. 

As adults, it is so hard for us to make changes when we are wrong.  We don’t even like to admit being wrong, much less making a change.  And those “events” that help facilitate changes don’t come around as easily and as often as they did when we were kids.  Instead we blame someone else for our shortcomings or our problems.  We harbor animosity in our hearts.  We stress out and lose sleep.  It takes a big person to recognize the need to change and to take the necessary steps.  It takes introspection and humility.  And, unfortunately, it seems the ones who need to change the most are the ones who are least likely to do so.  I have so much admiration for pure and open hearted people.  I hope I am one of those people.  It is my goal to be one.  I hope it is your goal too.  God Bless you as you take a look inside your heart this week.  Be the good parent and child.  Sincerely, Dennis