Change of Plans

We had a minor change of plans this week. It wasn't anything earth shattering, but it was pretty disappointing. When things come along that throw our plans out the window and replace them with plans we didn't particularly care for, I'm amazed now at how well Zorak and I handle the whole mess. It wasn't always that way.

I truly wish that my mother had helped me learn to handle changes well. When I was a child, and got hit with the crushing news that a family trip had been cancelled, or that she would not be able to do something she'd promised, or any of a number of typical disappointments that - to a child - feel huge, there wasn't any room for typical grief over it. Certainly no training in how to handle it graciously. The only thing she'd say is, "Circumstances Prevail." That was her mantra. I don't fault her for that - it's probably part and parcel of being a Depression Baby. Her response to disappointment was no more a matter of choice for her than her compulsion to use every usable part of potatoes, or her need to save bacon grease in a coffee tin. (Although I do suspect the grease thing was due to her being a Southerner more than having grown up in the Depression.)

However, I grew to hate these inevitable "circumstances" that were constantly "prevailing" in my life. And I railed against them pretty hard most of the time. Didn't do a whole lot of good, but I didn't know what else to do. That's one area I've struggled with over the years. Today, I can say that while I'm nowhere near perfect in how I handle them, I am (thankfully) significantly better about it.

And the boys? They are troopers! But then, they're allowed to grieve when they are disappointed. They've been given the tools they need to express their frustration with the way things don't always go as planned. They don't have to revert to anger or fear, because they have a safe place to be disappointed and hurt. It doesn't mean they're always chipper and happy to learn they're going to miss an eagerly anticipated event, or that we never got around to purchasing such-and-such for some project. The get bummed. But they don't get bent. And I am glad that they know that I feel for them and don't expect them, at the ripe old ages of 7, 5 and 2, so suck it up because "circumstances prevail". Sometimes, when you're sad, it's nice just to be allowed to be sad without anyone reminding you that it's a cruel, hard world. Obviously, if you've just been thrown for a bit of a loop, or let down in a particularly jolting fashion, you already get that part. What you need then is reminding that the people in it, in your life, and in your home, are not cruel, hard people. And that it's okay.

So, we had another chance to practice that this week. We're bummed, but we're not bent. ;-) Feels good to be the grownup. And it feels very good to see how well the children can cope, as well.

Well, today there is much to be done, so I'm going to sign off for now. Kiss those babies!
~Dy