Jeronimo! Blog

“The one thing that can solve all our problems is dancing.”  James Brown

Parents talk to kids:

“Quit. Stop. Wait. Don’t.”

Now, just mix up the order and replay.

Mysteries of the internet.  I wonder if there’s a little hole in space where all misdirected/undelivered emails get sent, like a missing sock.

Wilson is seven and typically obedient. Except for last night. He was riding his Razor in the street under my supervision and I asked him to stop and sit on the curb while I wheeled the garbage can to the back of the house. He would be out of my sight and I did not want him to play unsupervised.

I looked back over my shoulder to be sure he was obeying my directive, as I wheeled the can down the driveway. He sat there and I felt confident he would be there when I came back, about 15 seconds later.

Unfortunately, gratification overcame his usual compunction to obey. I saw him riding the Razor in the street. So we chatted.

“Wilson, you can’t ride the Razor any more tonight because you disobeyed me.”

“But Dad, I was just riding on the edge of the street! It was only 5 feet from the curb for 20 seconds!” He started crying.

“Makes no difference. Give the Razor to Max. You’re finished for the night.” He cried more loudly and lamented, “That’s not fair!”

We talked and examined what happened and I myself was especially surprised with the conclusions we came up with.

“When I asked you not to ride, I trusted you to obey me. You frequently do and I was sure you would. But you violated the trust we have instilled in each other. Micro-transgressions like this erode trust and we have to work to build that back up.

Next, safety. You are not allowed to be in the street because cars can come around the corner and hit you. It’s unsafe for you.

Third, you caved in to the urge of instant gratification. You decided to ride the Razor for the 20 seconds I was gone, but now you will not be allowed to ride it for the rest of the evening. It’s very important to learn to wait and postpone gratification if you will have more pleasure later.

Lastly, as an adult, you have to make the right decision all the time. Are you willing to run a red light? Can you live with the consequences? You have to learn to obey rules now so that when you’re an adult, you will obey society’s laws.”

I was surprised to uncover all those little nuances from a quite benign event.

We put the scooter away and played tag with Max.

Here is an informative web site re: caloric intake for kids by age and gender.

http://www.americanheart.org/presenter.jhtml?identifier=3033999

“I am still alive, much to the consternation of certain people!”

Yesterday, a long time ago, I saw a large leaf lumber down a tree.

Though near, I could not hear. My mind shouted at my worries and fears, retaliating.

Today, a little leaf tumbled down the branchy tree.

It sounded loud and proud, and I heard the leaf, cascading.

My wife sent this to me.  Isn’t she great?

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with an unanimous “yes.”

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things—God, your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions—and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.

The sand is everything else—the small stuff. “If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

“Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first—the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked.

It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.”

My son, Wilson, is 7, and I was teaching him to ride a bike. Riding a bike is mandatory – it’s a right of passage, and it’s somewhat embarrassing to admit that I have not taught him to ride yet.

He was reluctant and hesitant and making excuses.  He was afraid but I convinced him to learn.

He got on and he started peddling.  “It’s like riding your Razor.  Keep your balance.  It’s easier if you go faster.  Use the handle bars to turn and keep your balance.”  Back and forth, up and down the street we went.  “Dad, don’t let go of the handle bars!  Don’t let go of me!”

As with all kids, he began to get the feeling of staying on, pedaling, and balancing.  In the beginning I held the handle bars and him.  As we rode/ran, I let go little by little. 

“I’m right here. I’ll catch you.  Don’t worry.  You’re doing great!  You’re doing it.  Pedal.  Brake, now put your foot down. See?  You got it.” 

After a little while, he said, ““I’m tired.  Let’s stop.”  “No,” I said. “Keep going. You need to practice,” I said.

“But I’m tired!”  Tired is a euphemism for wanting to quit.

“No, let’s keep going.”  So back and forth we went up and down the street.

You know what happened next.  He wrecked.  He drove into a parked car and fell over.  Tears, whining.  “I told you I was tired,” he said.  “You were supposed to hold on to me. You let me go.  I don’t want to ride any more!”

“Get up.  Get on.  You’re OK,” I said. “No!  I’m tired. I want to quit.”  “Get up.  Come on, let’s go. Get on.  Stop whining. You’re fine.”  He got back on and we continued.

            I had hoped he would not wreck but I hoped also that if he did, if he got hurt or scraped a little,  that I wouldn’t permit myself to let him quit.  I had to let him go, let go of the handle bars and of him, although he said not to.  I had to endure letting him get hurt. I had to show him that you press on, that you make mistakes, that life is painful but you learn and you get back on and you get back on and you don’t give up.  Because one day, you will ride a bike and be happy.

A 7 year old girl in Knoxville, TN, weighs 400 pounds.  She is unable to walk.  This is despicable.  She gets winded pulling herself up to the sofa.  Google Jessica 400. The parents should be tried for neglect and abuse and custody of the girl given to someone who will care for her.