Why, I never!

Many lessons in life are better left to be learned in adulthood.  Youth offers the promise of endless opportunities along with pretty limited guidelines on how to navigate, pace yourself, and how to be cautious.  At least that's how we perceive it.  It takes a little bit of getting knocked down, a number of "oh, that's how it works" moments, and a lot of ears open - head's up steering through life's many routes to realistically deal with decisions over time.  The majority of this openness to life's lessons is learned when the reality of adulthood unfolds.

One of these lessons for me is: NEVER trust the word NEVER.  It will bite you over and over again.  I can't tell you the number of friends who were never getting married, never getting divorced, and the big one - never having kids.  Occasionally, yes, the self-fulfilling prophecy thing or good planning does work; but more likely, they should learn that you never say never. 

The never lesson hit me hard with the birth of my second child.  Don't judge other parents rang true as I dug the PB&J sandwich out of the VCR tape deck.  I was right there with him as he "ate" that sandwich.  Gone were the days of believing that a well-supervised child is a well-behaved child.  This is especially true when that hole in the VCR is perfect to house a sandwich.  I could cross "that will never be me" off of future proclamations to be used, along with the aspirations of parent of the year.

There was also the Wednesday night PTA meeting I attended when the kids were in kindergarten and second grade. Parents were complaining about bus incidents.  Gosh, this never happened to my kids, I thought.  Maybe, I should contribute.  I decided to hold back because my kids were the second last stop on the bus route to school - maybe there just wasn't time to be involved? 

The mail arrived on Friday with an envelope from the school.  I opened to read a disciplinary report from the principal who described an altercation on the school bus that had occurred on Wednesday.  It seems that my kindergartener had taken a toy on the bus that was coveted by Isadore. Daniel refused the request to share; Isadore helped himself, and then an "altercation ensued."  Disciplinary action: recommend reporting to the bus driver rather than being physical in response.  This report was signed by a shaky little kindergarten Daniel.  I left the note on the kitchen table.  When Danny came in from school, I pointed out the note.  Yep, sure enough, the color left his face.  His version?  Junior wanted his motorcycle.  He said no.  Junior took it anyway.  He said, "give it back or I'll jump you."  Junior didn't give it back.  Danny jumped him.  Yeesh.  What did he learn?  "I learned that I never want to go back to the principal's office again."   I can't say with certainty that the use of never in this sentence proved successful throughout the next 12 years.  I can say that I'm glad I kept my thoughts to myself at PTA, as the principal sat there. She would have had a hard time to not keel over with laughter at my naiveté.  The lesson that week - when talking about your kids - never ever, ever, say never.

In 2002, we moved to a new house.  Much to my delight/apprehension, we quickly learned that our house was surrounded by homes occupied by 12-13 year old boys who were already known to our 12 year old through hockey, soccer, or school (and none of them were Junior!).  I had no idea they were all gathered in this otherwise peaceful neighborhood.  This luxury of built in pre-teen playmates brought a new set of challenges.  On a beautiful summer afternoon, we left Danny sitting on the front porch as we went grocery shopping one mile away.  When we returned one hour later, he was still there.  All good - right?  Never make assumptions.  He asked us "Did the cops call you?"  Nooo, they didn't.  Why?  It seems that as soon as we left for the store, he and Ben jumped on the respective tractor/lawnmowers at their houses, rode to the housing development across a main road to mow the lawn of the new girl, Brooke.  They thought Brooke's dad might not have a lawnmower yet.  Um hm.  On the way across the main road, they paused to try to do doughnuts in the road.  In front of a sheriff's deputy.  Lessons:

• Some sheriff deputies govern through sheer fear - he never called.
• Brooke's dad had the foresight to bring a mower.  Good thing - the "Good Samaritans" never made it that far on that sunny, summer day.
• Never leave home without saying "Don't take the lawnmower across a major road to impress the new girl." More importantly, don't do doughnuts in front of a deputy. 

Wait, that final one doesn't work.  It is a "never" sentence and very limiting.  Maybe, you should only do grocery shopping in the middle of the night when pre-teen testosterone is at rest.

Anyway, you probably better understand how I learned the "Never say never" lesson now.  Imagine my surprise when three nights last week, I sat peacefully in my own home, only to hear my husband yell at our dogs "Stop humping your brother - it's just weird."  I never thought...