July 19, 2006
walk the plank
A couple of weekends ago, Wade took the boys to the pool by himself. We’re at a tricky stage, swimming-wise, this summer, because Charlie can WALK in the big pool but not swim (because he won’t put his head under the water) while Henry can SWIM but not without careful supervision (because he occasionally just gives up and sinks). As long as both boys agree to stay in the shallow end, it is possible to lifeguard them both at once, but eventually Henry decides that he wants to jump off the diving board and then things get complicated.
Fortunately, on this particular Sunday, Wade ran into a friend of mine who was there with two of her sons, who are about the same ages as our kids. Henry and Jack swam together for a while, and then Jack decided that he wanted to go off the diving board. Henry had been doing a little dance routine that consisted of getting up on the diving board, walking to the end, carefully considering his options, and then walking back to the ladder and climbing down. No jumping. “I can’t do it,” he would tell us, “because I can’t swim.” And we would remind him that LAST summer, he jumped off the diving board all the time! and then swam to the side! all by himself! But he was unmoved. “I can’t do it. Maybe later.”
So the boys are playing together and Jack decided that he wanted to jump off the diving board and he wanted Henry to do it, too. “Don’t think about it,” Jack told Henry. “Just jump.” And it worked! And Henry has been very excited, both about the diving board and about Jack’s advice, ever since.
It’s a good philosophy, I think, this idea that you should just jump. One of Henry’s biggest dilemmas is a tendency to overthink things–he worries so much about what something will taste like or feel like that he can’t bring himself to just jump. For him, new things are akin to walking the plank; what is at the other end may very well be scary and dangerous rather than exciting and fun, and so, like the prisoner on the pirate ship, he hesitates and dawdles and bargains in the hope that someone will be able to reassure him that the other end of the plank is a smooth beach and not a sea full of sharks, or, even better, will rescue him and avoid the plank entirely.
He seems to get this from me.
Today we had a playdate with my lovely friend Krista, who is moving to Kansas City at the end of the month, which makes me INCREDIBLY sad. Her husband has already started his new job, leaving her here to pack their house and entertain their kids; this week, we have had two all-day playdates because it’s a long time between breakfast and bedtime and it’s hot here and she’s LEAVING and I will miss her.
Today she suggested that we go to the downtown library because it’s free and it’s air conditioned. And I took some deep yoga breaths and said, sure! that’ll be fun!
And then I admitted that my kids had never been to the library. Ever. Which might explain why they are illiterate.
I don’t know why we never go to the library; we go to the bookstore all the time, and we’re huge readers. But somehow the library always seemed complicated or . . . something. The library in my neighborhood is staffed by the Universe’s Meanest Librarians; the day I went in to get my library card, the librarian kept glaring at Henry (who was in the stroller, chewing on a toy and kicking his feet peacefully). It wasn’t a friendly welcome.
So when Krista said, “Do you want to go to the library?” my knee-jerk reaction was to think, oh god no not the library my kids will go berserk and the librarians will kill us with their laser glares. But the other part of my brain, the part that is not permanently crabby from the heat, thought no, let’s try it, it might be a good experience for all of us. So I said okay! We’ll be right over! After I stop at Starbucks and get coffee!
Because it was too early for liquor.
We drove downtown and parked and walked to the library and . . . had a great time. The kids played with the knights and the castle and the farm animals, and they did a puzzle or two, and then Henry asked to play with the computers so we set him up to play a Sesame Street game, and then Krista’s kids wanted to do that, too, and Charlie found two other little boys to play with and everyone was (relatively) peaceful and polite and busy and Krista and I got to VISIT and occasionally complete a full paragraph and it wasn’t hot and no one had a meltdown.
And by then it was nearly 1:00 so we took everyone to Panera and had lunch and Krista’s son made the boys laugh by announcing “My name is BOOGER!” four hundred times and Henry and Charlie serenaded everyone with the theme song from COPS (“Bad boys bad boys whatcha gonna do / Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?”) and I had a delicious turkey sandwich and then we went back to Krista’s house and played until Charlie came downstairs crying because Henry wouldn’t share and Krista’s daughter asked if she could take a nap.
That seemed like a good time to end our playdate.
The boys and I left the house at 9:00 this morning and came home at 3:45. We had haircuts and dropped off the dry cleaning and got coffee; we went to the library and a restaurant and our friends’ house. We (mostly) used our inside voices and our walking feet. We (largely) shared and played nicely. We sat in our seats for longer than I would have imagined possible. And when we left Krista’s house, both of my kids asked if we could do it all again tomorrow.
Just jump. I think that’s my new mantra. Just jump.
Posted by Susan @ 4:25 pm • Uncategorized
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July 19th, 2006 at 5:25 pm, sarcastic journalist Says:
What a good mantra. I might need to try it.
By the way, it is HOT.
July 19th, 2006 at 6:00 pm, daysgoby Says:
Beautiful, S.
You’re not alone in this, either - there are some things I won’t think of doing because they seem too hard with both the kids, or I imagine worst case scenarios…
And then someone else goes and does it “Oh, yeah, Jess, I took C and R to the beach today by myself” and everything was fine and I have to goggle at them and then regroup.
Yay Henry!
July 19th, 2006 at 7:29 pm, Misfit Hausfrau Says:
Sounds like a really good day. I am constantly turning down social engagements because I know that the always END badly. Badly as in dragging Eleanor out the door as she is flailing and crying and screaming, “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOIDON’T
WANTTOGOOOOOOOOO.
I did actually take the girls to a Pump It Up Yesterday after I initially turned it down. My friend made me feel like such a complete wuz that I HAD to go.
July 19th, 2006 at 7:55 pm, Susan Says:
Hausfrau, I have to say this: if Krista weren’t moving away in ten days, I would TOTALLY have said no to the library.
Because I suck. Also, I am a wuss. But mostly I suck.
July 19th, 2006 at 8:35 pm, standing still for once Says:
A #1 rule with children is to get the horrid librarians fired.
Libraries are county / city / state establishments meant for the public. Children are part of the public last time I checked. Children, one step removed, pay taxes. Ergo, the library belongs to the children.
The library should encourage inside voices, but no one, I repeat no one should shame a child in a library by shushing them. To do so would be to scar a child and prevent them from thinking of the library as the MOST HALLOWED GROUND IN WHICH A CHILD CAN ROAM FREELY AND WITHOUT FEAR AND WHICH CONTAINS THE KEYS TO ALL THINGS ONE CAN IMAGINE.
My son loved his first librarian so much because she knew he loved music books at age 3. She suggested a music video by the Minnesota Orchestra called “On The Day You Were Born,” which subsequently became his very most favorite video, and the first book he ever “read”. Then to top it all off, she offered to buy it for me at the Orchestra gift kiosk, because she was there with season tickets, if I would just reimburse her.
Okay. Hennepin county libraries just ROCK. I know, we’re spoiled. But, Child went to the library at a VERY early age, because I guess I was plum stupid, didn’t know any differently, and assumed … hey, kid’s section, they get kids.
And, they did. And, do. And it’s still one of our favorite places.
July 19th, 2006 at 9:08 pm, Tara Says:
This is on my refrigerator, in big black, block, letters.
“Leap and the net will appear.”
Zen saying
It encourages me to think what the hell, and just jump in.
July 19th, 2006 at 10:19 pm, Susan Says:
Tara, I LOVE that. I’m going to tattoo it on my arm.
Okay, maybe I will just write it in my Filofax. That seems more me.
July 19th, 2006 at 11:32 pm, Granny Says:
What a great approach to everything.
Yep, get the librarian assigned to filing books or something where she doesn’t have to deal with the public.
The library is supposed to be fun; otherwise why would kids ever come back.
If you don’t get too many comments, it may be because bloglines is being stupid once again. My friend Angela just told me you had a new post.
July 20th, 2006 at 3:14 am, The June Cleaver Diaries Says:
Ohhh, I so needed this today. I’m overthinking next week’s move, and I’ve been awake all night worrying.
Leap and the net will appear…leap and the net will appear…ommmmm…
July 20th, 2006 at 7:43 am, Mir Says:
I would love to just jump. I just need to think about for a while, first.
(Ummm. Maybe I can marry Henry when he grows up.)
July 20th, 2006 at 9:28 am, Candace Says:
Tara, I love that, too. It’s going up on my fridge today.
I’m fine with the jumping. It’s the falling (albeit occasionally) that I”m afraid of.
July 20th, 2006 at 9:47 am, brookeraymond Says:
To krista, I say, “welcome, to Kansas City!”. It is a great town and there is much to do here with children. I hope you have a great move and just remember that the plaza public library is awesome.
July 20th, 2006 at 10:19 am, Melissa Says:
I bet there’s a summer reading program! It’s not too late. (insert evil laugh here)
I also must think and think and think and imagine all possible dire outcomes before jumping. I’m trying to wrap my head around the ‘leap and the net will appear’ philosophy. But if I’m gonna leap, I might need something better than a net. Maybe a trampoline. Do you think if I jump a trampoline could appear? That might make it worth leaping.
And if Mir turns out to be busy when Henry grows up, I think I’m raising AT LEAST one child who also can appreciate that trait. And who will also giggle about boogers.
July 20th, 2006 at 11:24 am, holly Says:
I cannot believe that you aren’t a library-goer. Ours is urban and dirty, and we still go all the time. How else do your kids read all the original Babar stories or every book that has ever won a Caldecott or whatever it is that interests you or them, without maxing out your credit cards at the bookstore?!
Can you access the library catalog on-line and place holds from the comfort of your home? I do that all the time, and can have books from any library branch in our major metropolitan county sent to our neighborhood branch, which significantly cuts down on the time we actually spend inside our gross branch.
Get thee to your library (or at least its online catalog) more often!
July 20th, 2006 at 12:16 pm, Susan Says:
Holly, I had forgotten all about the on-line catalog! That’s a great idea–thank you.
The borrowing of the books has never really worked for us, because Henry gets SO attached to whatever the book is, and wants to read it over and over and over AND OVER for weeks on end (we’ve read Ordinary Boy TWICE already, and last night he was asking if we could read it AGAIN). We rent lots of movies, and there is often much wailing and gnashing of teeth when the return date rolls around.
I’m hoping that we’re almost through that phase. Maybe. Possibly.
July 20th, 2006 at 1:15 pm, Jenny Says:
I used to love the library when I was a kid but now I can’t bring myself to go. Getting library books means I’m bound to go back in 2 weeks to return them and I can’t handle one more thing on my plate.
July 20th, 2006 at 2:29 pm, Velma Says:
It sounds so ridiculous when I explain why we don’t go to the library anymore. Besides sharing the whole “100 Potential Disasters” frame of mind, we moved. The little village library near our old house was right on a main street, pretty much in between us and whatever else we needed to get done during the day.
The new library is, well, inconvenient. Doesn’t that sound so incredibly lame? It’s not that it is terribly far away from our house, just out of the way, across a major thoroughfare that is often clogged with traffic, and on the way to no other place I need to go. Also, very awkward parking.
Good rationale for not going, huh?
July 20th, 2006 at 3:53 pm, Jenorama Says:
Mantras like that cause people to go and get their hair cut very very short.
OR at least to think about it even MORE.
July 20th, 2006 at 7:53 pm, Kristen Says:
You know, the last time I took my kids to the library (which was maybe the second time ever), well, I’m sure you can guess what happened (what you dreaded about taking your kids): Bryce ran off, laughing, Quinn chased him, laughing, ALL THE WAY AROUND THE LIBRARY, through all of the quiet, reading adults.
I was mad and focused on it enough, but then the librarian, stereotypically old and cranky, totally fucking shamed them, and me. And I haven’t been back since. It still upsets me. But now after reading this, I’m thinking, ah, what the hell?!
July 21st, 2006 at 12:33 am, MommyWithAttitude Says:
This won’t sound nice, but I’m SO glad that my kid is not the ONLY one who talks/thinks/hems/haws/etc. ENDLESSLY before agreeing to do anything! He gets it from me… but still I worry about him.
And my kids ARE the only kids in the world who HATE swimming. Actually J doesn’t hate it… IF he doesn’t have to put his head in the water. The little one hates it if he has to leave the steps.
July 21st, 2006 at 1:02 pm, The Daring One Says:
I frequently enjoy just jumping in place, but your theory is probably a more productive recipe for a happy life.
Did you know I was a librarian at a public library for 2 years and I can promise you that your librarians are not the meanest. I AM! MwaHaHaHa.
July 23rd, 2006 at 7:41 am, Titanium Says:
I just read your post from July 21 & thought that you & your children go to the bookstore like my children & I go to the library.. all the time! Then I saw this post & was very happy that you went to the downtown library. It’s wonderful!
Overall, the metro library system in OKC is really good… you might have an icky branch near you, though. I’m thinking of the small one on NW Expressway.. a bit west of Penn Square. The Village library is great, from an adult perspective.. but I’ve not ever taken my children there. I’ve only gone during lunch to return a few books that I had in the car. I saw loads of children, though, and they all seemed happy & the library staff seemed relaxed & pleasant.
I’m in Midwest City.. the library & librarians are wonderful. It’s very child friendly. My children often walk to the library without me & spend hours browsing, playing computer games & reading. We even have neighbor children who come by & ask if the kids want to go to the library with them.. it’s their hangout. They also love to check up on the hamster that’s the library’s new pet. My daughters are really interested in the hamster as one of this year’s Sequoyah books (books for kids written by Oklahoma authors) is about life from a hamster’s point of view.
The library in Choctaw is also great.. although it’s probably a bit far for you.. if you live near the bookstore that you frequent, that is.
My kids & I have frequented the libraries wherever we’ve lived (ex husb is military - lots of moving). The library staff has called to check on us if we didn’t make it in for 2 weeks in a row.
Anyway, I’m glad you & the boys enjoyed the downtown library.
I’m sure that with practice, your boys will be ok with borrowing & returning books. When my kids were younger, I often told them that we borrowed most books & bought only our very favorites.