Following Through with Follow-Through

I've been trying to come up with a theme for this post, a thread that will tie my story to some larger point but it's already been four minutes of trying so I give up.

Perhaps as I tell the story, a point will come to me. Or you.

So Robin and I are walking Molly the dog this morning. This is our new plan since Thanksgiving - Sunday morning walks together. Good for the heart, good for the marriage, good for the dog. So far, we've done it once and, frankly, the future of the plan remains to be seen. I expect it will go the way of the plan we had when the kids were young - the Saturday Morning Family Chores.

Yeah, that was a bang -up idea. Every few months, Robin and I would decide that we were horrible, slovenly, slacker parents when it came to the whole practice of family chores and we'd vow to get our shit together, call the kids to a meeting and hand out assignments.

I don't need to tell you that it was an abysmal failure. Life got in the way. The next Saturday there was a birthday party or someone had an ear infection or existential angst or a phone call to make. Cleaning out the entire garage gave way to "okay, well, put that box of old clothes at the garage door", which gave way to, "okay, just move out of my way while I put the box of old clothes at the garage door", which finally devolved into, "Hey, bring me a beer while I take a nap on this box of old clothes. Oh, and then close the garage door. I don't want to be disturbed."

It's all about the follow-through. I know that because - and this cannot be said often enough - I am a parenting instructor by trade. And despite my son once saying to me when he was around 9 years old or so, "people actually pay you for parenting advice? Because you know you suck at it" I do know enough to recognize the importance of follow-through with raising kids. Even though, personally, I was far too tired to do it when raising my own kids. Plus, I had my other issues getting in the way of being a good parent back then, what with my fear of getting lost, my fear of eating food from other people's houses, my fear of having one of those random chin hairs sprouting and growing to be a foot long before I notice it, my fear of Olga discontinuing my favorite bra, and my inability to drive a stick shift, it's always been a pretty full 50 minutes at the shrink. Follow-through with Saturday morning chores never really made it to the therapy agenda.

So when Robin and I pinky-swore last Thanksgiving to do this Sunday morning walk thing, we weren't kidding anybody. Even when, about a half hour into it, one of my sons called to say hi (I always have my cell phone with me on a walk because you never know when your arteries are gonna finally call it a day and you might need to call for help. In fact, on days when I've consumed a particularly worrisome amount of trans-fats, I just keep the phone dialed to "911" so all I have to do is push "send" when the tingling first begins in my fingers and I have only seconds before collapsing. I realize that it might be safer to just stop eating the shit that will kill me but are you paying attention at all to my point? I have no follow-through) and I told him that Dad and I were on a walk, he politely glossed over that fact ("uh-huh")  as if he knew I was lying but didn't want to embarrass me by making a big deal about it.

 You know, I do believe those years of failed Saturday family chores paid off. I raised a great kid. 

I meant to tell him that but my attention was diverted to the fact that Robin was suddenly involved in a very animated conversation with two teenagers coming our way on the path. As my son told me - into one ear -  about his plans for the week, I listened with my other ear as Robin commented to the teenage girl that he hadn't seen her in so many years, she was so grown up, what was she up to now, her hair was still long and curly, how are her parents doing, had her dad's shoulder healed, and on and on. Since Robin and I are not joined at the hip, I don't expect to know everyone he knows so I finished my phone call with my son and Robin and I kept walking after he said goodbye to the teens.

After I hung up the phone, I said to Robin, "who were those kids?"

He said, "you know her. That's whatstheirnames daughter, you know, the Levine's kid."

"No it's not" I told him, "their daughter is, like, 21 years old. She lives in Seattle."

"Oh" he said, "then I guess I don't know that girl." We kept walking. Robin was very, very quiet.

Then he perked up. "Oh! I do know her! She was a student in that high school class I visited last month to talk about sustainability!" He was visibly relieved.

I was confused. That was the end of it for him? That he had a conversation with a young girl he met only three weeks ago and said things to her like, "what's it been, over a year since I've seen you?" and "you still have that curly hair!" and "HOW'S YOUR DAD'S SHOULDER?" was no big deal? All in a day's happenings?

I am still stuck on it.  He saw her three weeks ago and said, "what's it been, over a year since I've seen you?"  How can Robin not be mortified?

And that girl. She never said a word. Never corrected him. Never ran away from him. What's with that???

I bet her parents had no follow-through when they raised her.

Comments

[Lunaea]

I spent way too much of today going over alternate ways I could have handled a conversation I had in a dream last night. In a DREAM. So you can just imagine that I am completely with you on this matter of following through vs. letting it go. I will just never be that Zen, alas. (Whether the Scrabble game accepts it or not.)

[Barbara]

Damnedest thing about kids and follow through is that my 3 are systematic, detail oriented and orderly. They did NOT learn that from me.

Damnedest thing about men is that they can have conversations like that and not think a thing about it.

[alicia]

I'm counting on your "i will do anything not to be like my parent(s)" approach (read: repeat after me) in hopes that my children will be able to follow through....with something...anything...what was i saying, again?

[Erika]

Robin is Awesomesauce!! He could've given two shits about that girl...... he could smell the salmon in the air being so close to the Willamette..... and it clouded his whole thoughts...

[Karen Jackson]

My entry for the "Shouldn't my Husband be Mortified?" award is Craig. We share the same email account, and while I was out of town, he read and FORWARDED a ludicrous chain-letter, promising to win them money, to 5 of my friends and family. Before I was even finished writing my apology to them, I was bombarded with emails from all 5 of them, kindly informing me (ME of all people) that these are scams... the crazy thing is that I was mortified, but HE WASN'T! Go figure.

[writer jobs]

the article like this deserve an appreciation. some are doing blogs or a forum, but they never see if its useful to all and it can help to others for their needs. I like your blog keep posting.