The Abomination of Fair

I hate fair. I don't like it in the context of social obligations. And, I really don't like it in the context of my home. I have to say, that I think parents who try and make things fair for their children--are doing them no great favor in life. I cringe when I hear little people say, "That's not fair!" But, I get angry when I hear parent's utter those same words.

e.g. "Sorry I'm late, little Jimmy ate the last of the Oreos at home, so I had to stop by the store and pick up another package for little Susan--so it would be fair." Barf.

"Here Johnny! We got you a present, too. Even though it's Susan's birthday--we wanted things to be fair." Double barf.

Life is undeniably un-fair.

And, I'm so thankful it is.

Something Mr. Deem pointed out is, when you teach your children that life should be fair at all costs...and move mountains to try and make it fair for them; one negative aspect of this is that you will train them to be scorekeepers.

Have you ever been around a scorekeeper? Is it pleasant for you? It's not for me. These children (or adults) are on hyper alert for any discrepancies in life.

Couldn't we give them more to fight for? Couldn't we give them better injustices to be on guard?

They aren't lookin' for the type of discrepancies that stand up to a bully. Or invite the unpopular kid over for dinner. Not the ones that ignite a passion to raise money for the starving. No...we're not talkin' that kind of fair.

We are talkin' equal time on the swings...down. to. the. second. We are talkin' the same amount of pets, play-doh, and parties. We are talkin' kids who cannot even enjoy life. Because they have been burdened with a craptastic shiny gold star that says, "Fairness Police," right across it.

Will these kids become adults who minimize the accomplishments of others? Are our little girls going to grow into the women who constantly compare themselves to other women? Who are never able to obtain the ideal beauty. Eying other women as threats. Will our little boys grow into men who have to put others down to feel good about themselves? Men who either give up because the thought of, "Keeping up with the Jones,"  absolutely crushes them. Or become workaholics, because the thought of not keeping up, terrifies them equally. Will we raise a generation of people completely unable to rejoice at the blessings of others?

In Mere Christianity, C.S. Lewis wrote about pride: “Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man. We say people are proud of being rich, or clever, or good-looking, but they are not. They are proud of being richer, or cleverer, or better-looking than others.” In the same sense, I'm not sure if people will ever really be content with fair. I have a feeling it's really MORE fair that they are after...

In all honesty...do we even want life to be fair for our kids?

It's not fair that in the distant fogginess of history a baby was born, grew into a young man, only to be abandoned, sacrificed and nailed to a cross for me. To be spit on for you. To be beaten and mocked for your children. It's not fair that the debt for my sins has bankrupted me. And, it's aggravatingly unfair that NOTHING I do will ever relieve me of that debt. My own accomplishments mean nothing. It's only grace. It's only obedience to His word. It's only Him.

"Fairness ended in the Garden of Eden." Andy Stanley

I totally get that it is important to ensure our children feel valued. I do not look for opportunities to mock my children with a diabolical, "Haha, life's not fair," mantra. However, I do take very seriously what I feel is an obligation to take any opportunity in life to show them their true value. That it's not tied up in Happy Meals, or exactly matching jelly bean piles. But, that it's all about Christ's love for them. And, that their purpose is essentially to glorify Him.

I'll tell you something more: My kids get the concept. It's definitely not always sunshine and roses. But, deep down, they get it. That, hey! Sometimes this is YOUR day. Don't feel guilty about it. Next week...it might be your brother's. Be happy for him. We give and take, and there is an enormous amount of freedom in that.

This is not an issue that is limited to children. It's been my own experience that the people who are MOST concerned with "fairness" for their children, are 99.9 percent (yes that's an official number) most likely to be people who themselves have a chip on their shoulder. They are the women who whisper bitter jealous, fiery words behind other women's backs. They are the men who reek of  inadequacy and must constantly make up for that.
They are the people who will NEVER be satisfied in life. never. ever...ever.

Because, you know what? There will always be someone with more. There will always be skinnier. Stronger.Smarter. There will always be someone who has a bigger house, faster car, and a better credit score.
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And, now we interrupt this rant with a totally deep Babylon 5 quote:

“Wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair and all the terrible things that happen to us, come because we actually deserve them? So now I take comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the Universe.” Marcus Cole~

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Give your children the gift of contentment. Teach them to rejoice when others receive. Give them spontaneous, unexpected, TOTALLY undeserved gifts. Give them the gift of time and attention; not guilt-bred material things. Talk them through times when they have disappointment. Don't always solve it for them. Don't encourage seeds of bitterness to grow; not by the things you say, and not by the things left unsaid.

Roses in December

"God gave us memories that we might have roses in December."

J. M. Barrie, Courage

 

(Lincoln 2007)

Let joy be unconfined

"  On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined."

-Lord Byron

 

Today I brought Grant to his dance class. An hour early.

 

For the THIRD week in a row.

 

I'm not even pregnant.

 

His teachers are great. But when we showed up at the wrong class again today, one of the ladies asked me with a steely politeness, "Will you be dropping him off now, or at the correct time?" That's when I had to sheepishly ask (again) what time his class was at? Amazingly, I've managed to write the wrong time, on every calendar, dateplanner and notepaper in the house. Somehow, every week I show up at the wrong time...I think the week before was just a fluke, and that I wasn't paying attention to my highly organized schedule.

 

After driving around town, stopping by the post office, and listening to bored kids in the back seat for an hour, I tried to take Grant to his class.  At the correct time. He was all fun and games until we got to the door. Then he did the cling and squeeze. I detached the little leach. We talked. I walked into the class with him. I paid his costume fee, along with the hefty late fee for not doing so earlier.  It was no use. He had his head buried into my thigh the entire time.

 

 

We walked out.

After driving around the block, the tears started flowing from the little ballerino in the back seat. "I WEALLY want to go to my dance cwass!" 

We talked about being brave, about how I would ALWAYS come back for him, and how much he loves dancing. We circled back to the studio. We got to the door.  Happy sounds of giggly girls, music and tap shoes stomping away carried from the room. We open the door. I give him a little push. A small victory starts tingling in my stress-filled shoulder blades. Halfway through, he bolts back to me and starts crying.

We drove home. 2 hours down the drain. Cranky kids all around. My wallet feeling pretty taken advantage of for the costume fee. And me SO angry at my little 3-year-old who can't make up his mind about dance and has suddenly decided he is shy.

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On the way home he fell asleep. As I was carrying him to his room, with his little arms wrapped around my neck, and his head wobbling on my shoulders; I soaked it in. I thought about how stupid I was. On so many levels. Feeling dumb about never getting to his class like a normal mother. About missing the costume fee deadline. And, for even caring if he goes to another class. Ever. We can try again next year.

I've spent these past six months, grieving cuddles with our youngest daughter, and learning to love her better than comes naturally, and differently than I knew. God is helping make that easier every day. But, here I am with this little boy in the sunset of babyhood--trying to kick him out the door!

 

 

 His cuddles are pretty sweet, too, you know. 

 

 

 

     

 

 

  

For now, I'm content with my daily recitals at home.