Clarity

Here is where clarity is important:

Because technically this is coloring "at" his table.

Doesn't it just make you want to beat your head against the wall?  The fact that our commands seem so simple and straight forward to us, but might as well be warped through a foreign translation as they are coming out of our mouth!

I had always heard that marriage and children help you grow in areas that you need the most help, such as patience.  Patience, patience, patience.  I have never had time for patience.  

The sad fact is that my son sees me cleaning up so often during the day, that in a strange unintentional reversed psychology kind of a way, he has begun to mimic me and jump at every opportunity to clean up.  He tips things over JUST so that he can clean them up.  And when his little brother spit up all over the floor, he was actually excited when I grabbed the paper towels and gave him a turn.  Yikes!  I can see how Tom Sawyer was able to pull one over on his friends, because if they are anything like my son, they would be first in line to whitewash the fence.

All day long I am introduced to new and creative ways that common phrases can be understood (see photo above.)

When I was in third grade, our English teacher gave us an assignment that I will never forget.  She wanted to perfect the clarity in our writing techniques, and exemplify how often we take for granted that our readers know what we are talking about.  We each had to explain, in detail, how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  The instructions we gave were to be so precise that even an alien would be able to clearly complete the task.

Simple enough, right?  Think again.

The class was hysterical as our teacher stood at the front of the classroom with all of the pb&j making supplies and attempted to make one complete sandwich out of the many instructions she had received.  

The first paper she began reading aloud instructed her to take the bread and begin to smear peanut butter on one side.  With that, our teacher grabbed the unopened bag of bread and began to smear the peanut butter (with her hand, no less) on one side of the bag.  She continued to read aloud as she smeared jelly on the other side of the bag of bread...and smooshed it together.  Needless to say, the initial excitement of getting to eat our own peanut butter and jelly sandwiches quickly faded.

It was a great class though, and a great lesson.  I still remember the squeals of laughter of my third grade class that day.  And beyond that, I am brought back to that lesson often when I write or when I am misunderstood.  I have to stop and tell myself, "okay, I am explaining to an alien how to make a pb&J sandwich."

Real Life Toddler Examples:

When I say, "put that outside" - it means by way of the door (alien)

Don't throw your food - or someone else's - just don't throw food in general (alien)

When I say it's time to get in the bath - it preferably means taking off shoes, socks, and all cloths before impulsively jumping in (alien) 

And when I say "give that to me," it never means to throw it, ESPECIALLY when there is glass involved (alien)     

I feel like being a parent is a life long lesson in clarity...and patience.  I have learned about a million alternate ways to give every direction, hoping that one of them just might make it through the translator without too much distortion.  And at the end of the day, it's so much easier to love my kids than it ever was to love the coworker, neighbor, or stranger on the metro.  And it is really hard to fault the little guy when he is coloring "at" his table, which happens to be under his table, and oh, on the floor!

My directions are only good if they are understood and the pb&j sandwich gets made.  Otherwise, we are left eating a bag of smooshed up goop, and of course, cleaning up.  This is a lesson I am trying to apply to the ones who are harder to love as well, because ultimately they are all someone's children, hoping for a little patience and a lot of clarity.