The Path of Most Resistance

When Angie and I were out running errands the other day, slugging hefty Zy and his clunky car seat in and out of the truck at every stop, Angie noted, "Shopping sure is harder with Zy." I agreed, "Everything's harder with Zy, but everything's better." 

I mean, come on, I'd drag a ton of bricks in and out of Target, Kroger, Michael's, Kohls, and Aldi to see this smile.

It sure does make one-stop shopping at Wal-Mart more appealing though.

Her comment reminded me of a point that I've been ruminating on recently:

The path of most resistance is almost always the best path.

Has anyone else noticed this? Doing the best thing, especially in parenting, seems to always come at a cost.

When Angie has homework it would be easy enough to have her just write something down, fill in the blanks, write the paper, or do the project. It wouldn't be much harder to tell her what the right answer is or what to say in the story. But the hardest option is to sit down with her and patiently guide her through the work, helping her to come to her own solutions, but making sure they're not too far off track. This last approach requires not only the most time investment from me, but also often the most friction between us, as she desperately wants me to just tell her the answers, and the longer we struggle through difficult homework the more likelihood there is that her tone will turn disrespectful and sassy.

It's not much different at dinner. It would be easiest to let her choose the menu each night, or at least elect which foods on her plate to eat. But it's best to take the hard road and insist that she try something new, eat a few bites of broccoli, finish her carrots, and USE HER NAPKIN for crying out loud.

It would be so much more relaxed in this house if we never made Angie clean up her bedroom or straighten up her bathroom. The evenings, weekends, and summers would be so peaceful if she could watch videos all day and I never asked her to read a book, learn something, or get some exercise.

Oh, she would be so happy if I never made her go to another sports practice again. She'll show up for all the games or matches no problem, as long as she doesn't have to put in any extra effort up front to prepare.

Why can't we just let her wear what she wants? The scandalously short shorts, the crop tops, the skin tight leggings, and tube tops. Why do we insist on such a counter-cultural dress code? It would feel so nice to not be the mean mom for once.

And bedtime, why enforce bedtime? We should let her stay up as late as she wants, putting on gobs of makeup, eating pie and ice cream whenever she wants, watching R rated movies, sleeping over at friends' houses who's parents we've never met. Why not, that's what all the other kids her age are doing, she says...

In the moment, when the inevitable eye roll, groan, or all out argument is lurking just around the corner, it's so hard to picture the adult we will create if we choose the path of least resistance. But every time we take the uphill road, the one often less traveled by the world, we're being intentional about raising a decent human being, hopefully even a kind adult, instead of the irresponsible, inconsiderate, jaded, selfish, stubborn lazy mess we'd be allowing if we were passive instead of proactive in all these parenting choices. 

Even with Zy it's already evident that taking the easy road does not pay off in the end. According to the experts if we're not intentional he'll take his rocking chair, pacifier, car seat and blankie to college if we don't start him off right without all the props. The longer we enjoy the ease and sweetness of co-sleeping, the less likely he is to ever embrace his crib or even his nursery. And the more often I let him snack to keep him from fussing, the less time between meals I have to get anything done, and the longer we stay on his schedule instead of adjusting him to the family's routine.

Moms and dads, stay strong. They won't want us to go with them to college, we can't hold their hand at their first job, so we have to start creating independent healthy little people from day one even though they can't see the big picture now and they'll resist almost every step of the way. It's so hard to believe they might actually thank us later for all these rules, but it is so rewarding  when they do, I know because it's happened to me once, just wait it'll happen for you too...

Now for the fun part, this little guy doesn't roll his eyes when I take his picture yet, so I have to take advantage of that and capture all the silly moments I can.

Bubbles!!! 

What Zy would look like with long black locks.

This no clothes thing is pretty awesome, Mom!

I tried desperately last week, to upload some videos to the blog of the munchkin in all his cuteness for those family who haven't met him, or haven't seen him in awhile.  Videos of him cooing, grunting, snoring so loud he wakes himself up, even bobbing his head in time with music. But I tried a thousand ways to get them from my iPhone to the blog with no success, and I also realized these videos would surely bore anyone outside of immediate family, so I gave up. Sorry, you'll just have to envision how cute these pictures would be in motion, and for the snoring just imagine an old man, receding hairline and all, sawing logs even in church.