Just Call Me Brainiac

I’m not smarter than a fifth grader.

Or apparently my fourth grader.

At least when it comes to memory games.

Everyday at 4:30, Micah and I watch a Nickelodeon show called Brain Surge – his current memory game show obsession. And for a half an hour I wonder how I ever managed to earn a college degree – or, for that matter, remember to get dressed in the morning.

The show is a series of memory puzzles. “It’s really similar to an IQ test,” my friend and pediatrician’s wife told me. Great. Based on my performance, I have the intelligence of the common housefly.

Can you please tell me why they make these kind of game shows anyway? Don’t our kids already think they know way more than we do?!

What really bothers me sometimes, though, is the important things I tend to forget – especially when it comes to my children. Here are a few things I have to continually remind myself of:

1. Kids are not little adults. I forget this all the time. I have to remember to keep my expectations of them age-appropriate. I can’t, for example, expect my 13-year-old to want to help me with laundry. Heck, I don’t want to help me with laundry.

2. Instruction is more helpful than pointing out the obvious. I’ve been a big offender of this in the past. Especially in the morning. “We are late! How many times are we going to be tardy this year? Are you out to set a new record?” On and on, I’d rant. It was very helpful. Inspiring, really. Not.

We’re still late sometimes, but when I quit being a lunatic and started working with them to eliminate obstacles to our tardiness (getting up earlier, finding items the night before), etc. , our chronic tardiness began to subside. More than that, when I instruct instead of rant, I actually teach them discipline and problem-solving skills.

3. Humor is a parent’s best friend. This morning, for instance, I could not get my son out of bed. Literally. He would not move. I took away privileges. No movement. This kind of thing makes me crazy.

In desperation, I opted for my weapon of last resort. I pulled out the water spray bottle, pulled off the covers and began giving him a soaking. Pretty soon, he was out of bed and we were all laughing. (In the middle of this, Molly says, "I think you are enjoying this too much.") Now, mind you, I must admit I will not find much humor in the “refuse to get out of bed routine” tomorrow.

There’s so much to remember when you’re trying to be a good parent, isn't there? It can be overwhelming. It helps me to focus on a few of the important things and just try to love their socks off.

When they’re grown up, that’s how I’d like them to remember me.

So, how ‘bout you? What’s a great principle that you try to remember in the craziness of parenting children?