I have a confession to make. I love the original Blues Clues.
With Steve.
I love Mr. Salt and Mrs. Pepper, little Paprika and even baby brother, Cinnamon. I still know the mail song, and am still kinda ticked that I can’t skidoo. When Steve sang with Ray Charles? very cool. When Julia Louis Dryfeus read about slippers? timeless. I love the planet song because it taught Me the order of the planets. I love that Steve snuck in some sign language and that he played his role with such commitment.
I admire his willingness to make fun of himself:
And when I really need someone to understand, I always know I can talk to him.
Most of all, I love the song, “A Sniveling Mess” “Will you love me if I’m a mess? (Hold on) I want to make sure you comprehend. (Hold on) I need you to be comfortable. Did you understand? Did you understand what I am?”
So, Steve? You are affirmed.
And Lisa, from Domestic Accident, if I’ve lost your respect, then . . . well . . . so be it. I am not ashamed. I’m a mess.
“Not every kid made the team when they tried. We got disappointed and that was all right. We turned out all right. It was a different life, when we were boys and girls. Not just a different time, it was a different world.” A Different World, by Bucky Covington
PinkGirl is 7 years old and has been in 2 to 4 plays a year since she was 2 1/2 years old. At 7, she has had a LOT of people tell her how “wonderful” she did after a performance. And yes, she’s done a good job. She has play rehearsals for 15 weeks before a performance, so she gets good at whatever part or song she’s to perform.
BUT.
She wanted to sing with me at church a few months ago and while I was practicing, she wasn’t. I rehearsed in the car. She wanted to listen to Radio Disney. I rehearsed in the house. She was playing Barbies. So I told her she couldn’t sing with me unless she could sing the song the same way 3 or 4 times in a row without messing up. Sound harsh?
Too bad.
I’ve got a framed quote in two different locations in my house and I’m trying to teach my kids its true meaning:
“It’s not enough that we do our best; sometimes we have to do what’s required.”
Sir Winston Churchill
I’m a vocalist, a speaker and a trainer. I know that hard work – and I mean HARD work – goes behind every performance, every presentation, every training session. I understand that I can only be good at what I do if I WORK at it. I memorize my lyrics and sometimes I interpret a song using sign language. I work with a sign language coach to make sure I’m getting the concepts right. I practice over and over and over and over . . . Since I’m an extemporaneous speaker, I don’t memorize presentations or lectures, but I do have my outline DOWN. I may not know exactly what words I’m going to say, but I do know EXACTLY what I’m going to talk about and in what order. When I speak or train, I’m prepared.
So I wouldn’t let PinkGirl sing with me unless she practiced. At a minimum, she had to know the words to the song. She had to be able to sing the song the exact same way, more than a few times in a row – BEFORE I would allow her to perform. Sound harsh?
I can live with that.
I know what would have happened if she sang without practicing. She’s cute. People would tell her how well she did. They would tell her that she did well – EVEN IF SHE DIDN’T. And that’s not good. Sure. It’s kind. In the “now.” But what does it teach her in the long run? Nothing good, as far as I’m concerned. It teaches her that “good enough is good enough.” (I HATE that phrase.) It certainly doesn’t teach her a good work ethic. It certainly doesn’t give her a realistic view of her strengths and weaknesses. How does she know what areas of her life need improvement if the only feedback she gets is praise – for “trying.” In this particular case, she wasn’t even trying. And that doesn’t fly.
I think that’s a big problem these days. We need to – in a kind and loving way – give our kids honest feedback and help them develop realistic expectations.
This past basketball season, FavoriteSon was one of 11 boys who made the 7th grade team. In the beginning of the season, he was getting very, very very little playing time. We called the coach to talk with him about it, and he graciously explained it this way: “He’s the 11th best player in the seventh grade.” ouch. Tough to hear. But what do we do with that? Do we tell FavoriteSon, “You keep doing your best. We love you.” Well, sure. But that’s not all we did. We asked the coach for specifics. What did FavoriteSon need to work on? What could we DO?
The first thing we did was tell FavoriteSon the truth. We let him be sad for a few minutes and then we asked him:
“So, what are you going to do”
“Idunno.”
“Do you love basketball?”
“Yeh.”
“Enough to practice every day?”
“Yeh.”
Then we (FirstHusband and myself) put forth some serious effort into helping FavoriteSon get better at this sport he loves. With continuous feedback from the coach, we helped him improve his skills. We helped him with his communication skills to increase his credibility with his coach and his teammates. We explained how he could show the coach how he was improving. We encouraged his work ethic by pushing him to give 100% EVERY time he got on the court, whether it was in a game or just in practice. He worked at it. EVERY day. He had his first life lesson in “doing what was required.”
In the end, FavoriteSon’s coach awarded him the “Chameleon” award at the end of season banquet.
In the end, PinkGirl learned the song (Down in the River to Pray) and sang with me.
I can live with that. And more importantly, so can FavoriteSon and PinkGirl.
