Once upon a time, when one of my sons was an exchange student in Austria, this happened:
Sixteen-year-old Chris believed that Rice Crispy treats were the best dessert in the world. You probably know what I’m talking about — marshmallows melted in butter, then stirred into the snap crackle and pop cereal? Well, somewhere during that year abroad, he mentioned that they didn’t have marshmallows in Austria. A geographic design flaw, certainly. In response, I sent Chris a bag of marshmallows and a box of Rice Crispy cereal so that he could make the best dessert in the world for his host family. I thought it was a brilliant idea. I still do.
But here’s the thing: as the years passed and family stories were told and retold, this became the story: “Other mothers sent actual cookies to their kids,” Chris said. “My mom sent me the ingredients.”
This wasn’t the first (or last) time I felt like a flawed mother. On reflection, however, I’m thinking that Chris was accurately describing my parenting philosophy. Parents are responsible for coming up with the right ingredients. The outcome — in this case, the cookies – also depends on what the child does with those ingredients. Another brilliant idea, don’t you think?
I don’t mean to imply that parenting is simple or time-limited. It’s certainly not a matter of “Here you go, kid. I’m outta here.” For me, the intriguing thing about parenting is its complexity, its durability and the way it constantly changes shape. It’s about the relationship between two particular people over time.
I once had the image of a teeter totter on a school playground. When a child is small, the weight is all on the parent’s end and those little child legs are dangling in the air. As the child grows up, the teeter totter evens out and both sets of legs can touch the ground as needed. Later on, as the parent ages, the weight shifts toward the adult child’s end and sometimes it’s the parent’s legs that are dangling in the air.
Thinking again about the ingredients idea, I’m imagining that both parent and child, at whatever age and life stage, continue to offer each other ingredients for their relationship. And here again, complexity arises. The ingredients that are offered may not feel to the receiver as if they belong in their imagined recipe. Sometimes one person stops offering or accepting altogether. Life circumstances change.
Perhaps even modest success relies on our willingness and our ability to continue to show up for the relationship — reserving judgment, allowing for mistakes, trying to understand one another. That will determine the outcome.