Consistent Foolishness

“A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson left off “and mothers.” Throughout my kids’ infancies, toddlerhoods and middle childhood I have clung to routines and their promise of consistency. Largely these rigid structures have been my salvation and provided a hand- and toe-hold in times when I was clinging to my sanity. Yet I know my children need to learn to deal with a certain amount of flexibility, and when they have been presented with opportunities in the past they have generally risen to the occasion. Their mother is the one with the problem.

Who struggled most with the move from bottle to cup, from diaper to underwear, from napping to twelve-hour waketime? Yes, I admit, I could not make those changes until I was ready. The kids are lucky I made it past two naps per day and a 6:30 bedtime. They’re still probably in bed longer than any other children I know. (“Sleep is important”, my mother reassures me. “I always put you kids to bed very early.”) At least we know my tendencies are partly genetic.

The latest change in our household structure was made by me under extreme duress. Monday morning, after the latest in a never-ending series of fights over what TV show to watch, I finally lost my temper. My seven-year-old had reluctantly turned off his NOVA show on earthquakes and my four-year-old was griping about the time he lost to his "Pink Panther" show on Netflix when I laid down the new law, “No morning TV, EVER.“ This edict had been some time in the making, as my daughter stopped watching TV in the morning six months ago (too busy sleeping in and/or taking care of her guinea pig to watch) and my son long outgrew the morning grouchiness that used to require a TV transition period of about 20 minutes.

The boys screamed, I ranted, and a fear grew in my routine-oriented heart that our mornings would be messy and anxiety-filled from that day forward. Instead, I have been pleasantly surprised by the harmony and quiet that reigned over our breakfast table for the past two days. The boys seemed relieved that I took this contentious issue off their plates. I am thrilled at the change and want to bash myself in the head with the remote for not making it sooner. I’d like to keep going and take the TV out of the house entirely, but I’d have to make that change over the objections of my husband, so I’ll let him cling to his own foolish consistency a little longer.