Have you ever seen a parent doing something fun or original with her kids and think, That is a great idea, and then, Why don’t I do fun stuff like that? What is wrong with me? Do you feel guilty for not being creative and then vow to do the same activity the very next day, only to completely forget about it? Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea, after all, or maybe you were tired and this idea didn’t make it to your short-term memory file.
Recently this happened to me while watching the end of the movie Matilda: There is a montage of scenes showing the little girl frolicking (spoiler alert) with her new mom in the living room, shoving aside their furniture to make space for rolling on the floor, spinning hula hoops and roller skating. Playing with a capital p.
Emma and I often dance to our favorite music, so I can check off that box, and now I’m working on the roller-skating scenario. Next on my list is buying her a book of devotions we can read together each night. When my friend mentioned that she does nightly devotions with her daughter, my first thought was: Why didn’t I think of that?
In a time when so many of us are fretting over job security and quickly updating our résumés, I’ve been thinking that now may be the right time to review another résumé, which likely doesn’t exist in bytes or paper form, but which remains the most important one of all: our parenthood résumé, a sort of record of the job we’ve been doing as a parent. I prefer to think of it as a work in progress. This is the résumé that our children will remember, and the one that we will treasure after they are grown and gone. We will take it with us when we depart this life; etched on our hearts will be both the memories we cherish and the ones we wish we’d have made.
All parents have regrets and, thankfully, our children are quick to forgive. But forget? Not so much. They remember everything, even the stuff we wish they didn’t, like our own embarrassments and missteps. So, this year let’s stop worrying about work so much and give our kids some truly great memories.
Try not to overthink it: Some of my child’s favorite memories are special because they were simple.
One night Emma and I played camping and turned out all the lights. We created a makeshift tent with blankets over a table, read by flashlight, whispered ghost stories and made s’mores the easy way (graham crackers, mini marshmallows and chocolate sauce).
Then there was the time we played pirates at Wilson Park and used the treehouse as our ship.
And the time when we took her to the Kite Festival at the Redondo Beach Pier, the amazement on her face outlasting the event.
And her first time on a boogie board Christmas Day 2007. She was too “stoked” to be cold (seriously).
And the list goes on. There’s another list, too, in my memory, of the days when I “managed” my child like she was a project file with a big “Hold” sticker stuck on her forehead. Yes, you can watch another TV show. OK, if you want to go on Webkinz again. Yeah, yeah, later. Just give me another minute on the phone, please.
As with any job, there’s always room for improvement. The bright side is that having more fun with our kids is one New Year’s resolution that won’t cause any pain and suffering (unlike fad diets and killer workout regimens) or cost too much, if we get creative.
I have begun shopping for roller skates, I’ll admit, but I’m watching for sales and coupons. I’m eager to introduce my 8-year-old to the thrill of gliding on wheels, wind in your hair, legs driving you forward across the pavement. Wilson Park has Family Skate Night, plus there’s The Strand. Then again, I think I’d rather start off in our living room: We do have wood floors and the furniture hasn’t been moved since forever.