Connectivity Issues

     On our recent Spring Break road trip, the girls were trying to get Frozen 2 to play in my Honda, but as it often does, the technology was giving them trouble. "DAD! It says there's an 'internet connection error,' WHY WON'T IT PLAY!" The wifi was trying to connect to our home network instead of Chris's hotspot. As we pulled up to the gas station a mile from our house, Chris leaned back to take a look: "Turn it off and turn it back on. Now we're nowhere near our home; it should be able to find my phone's hotspot." I laughed because sometimes I feel this way about God: I must be miles away from home and have a complete system reset to find the correct frequency to connect to the Spirit. This may be the only moment I've felt a connection with technology.

     

On Staying Awake

     During COVID, we established Friday family movie night featuring the girls' choice of take-out, which became an anchor for our otherwise non-eventful weeks. The girls were finally old enough to watch some of our favorite childhood classics, and we enjoyed many movies together in the Spring of 2020.

    Cut to last night, a sunny Friday evening after a long week. I was ready to be outside with neighbors in our cul de sac. Adelaide had other ideas; she had been anticipating a Friday movie night. Admittedly, my attitude when it comes to animated movies is not stellar. Perhaps due to the direct correlation between animated films and my body selecting to power down for a lil' nappy nap at 7PM on Friday night. Movie night is the only time my body desires to nap. No dice if I lay down at 2PM on a Saturday, but if we gather for family movie night, I am nearly guaranteed to FALL ASLEEP because this is what my body does during animated films. Try as I might, I cannot keep my eyes open, even through a musical masterpiece such as Encanto, which my in-laws joined us for and bore witness to this phenomenon. What in the actual world is wrong with me? Cheers. 

    So last night I wanted to stay outside in the sunshine with my friends, but instead, my oldest baby, who is no longer a baby, asked to spend time as a family. I felt like a human child because I should want this family movie night. Also, I WANT to want this family movie night for so many reasons, but that doesn't change the fact that I just don't.

    As parents often do, I swallowed my preferences, came inside, grabbed my Papa Murphy's cheese pizza, and plunked down on the couch for the animated selection of the evening: "Ron's Gone Wrong." At one point, I look at Adelaide and see her pure, unencumbered joy, which is in shorter supply these days as we enter the pre-teen phase of parenting. I recall how Jesus told the disciples, "I will not be with you much longer," and consider how the disciples probably *thought* they understood what Jesus was saying but, in actuality, could never fully understand the weight of that moment with him until after he pulled the most fantastic party trick of all time. This is true for my parenting journey too. Friday movie nights will soon fade away, and there will come a day when Adelaide and Evie are not physically near us. Soon enough, I'll have Friday nights that are so free I'll miss the tension of these days. We laughed through the movie, and I, in a remarkable turn of events, actually stayed awake. Sometimes the more challenging path for me is living fully awake and making peace with the present moment. Could this in-the-trenches training be one of the unexpected privileges of parenting?

       

    

       

    

    

        

"Teach them to Swim"

Thursday nights, I take Evie to weekly swim lessons at The Jewish Community Center, affectionately called "The J." My family grew up swimming competitively, and as I walk into the indoor pool, the smell of chlorine strangely soothes me. 

As I sit watching Evie on the first night of lessons, I notice a large sign on the wall above the starting blocks.  This feels like strategic placement and a metaphor in its own right. I've been in this pool many times, and, surprisingly, I didn't notice it before - it's big and kind of impossible to miss.  

"The parent is bound to teach their children a craft. Some say also to teach them to swim." 

I've been turning these words over every week since reading them. Unable to read the Hebrew or Aramaic citation, the quote appears to come from the Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 29a. Is this an instance of "when the student is ready the teacher will appear"? Whether it is or isn't, the quote grabbed me and I'm still pondering it.

What does it looks like to teach a child to swim?  What does it look like to teach a child a craft? More pointentedly, given the recent data from the CDC about girls and anxiety, what does it mean to teach a girl to swim in our current cultural moment? I can't stop thinking about it.