Thursday, October 27, 2011

Snuggies, Muffins, and Hot Wings

Throughout our lives we are faced with moments that exist to teach us perspective. Only time will tell whether or not we recognize them when they occur. I would say that's the hardest part of self-actualization; the ability to maintain perspective through trials. But it's difficult to stay on the right path when outside influences try their damnedest to blur your reality and create false or temporary goals or truths.

For me, the biggest example of this is marketing. How many of us have sat through a commercial for a snuggie where the actor on the screen struggles, in a ridiculous fashion, to grab the remote control because his/her hands are inexplicably trapped by some rascally blanket. I've seen magicians struggle less to free themselves from a straight jacket secured with pad locks. Or how about a commercial for some new-fangled muffin pan that will surely make all those other evil muffin pans obsolete. I can't count the senseless slaughter of delicious muffins that has occurred in our house because our muffin pan apparently has the ability to destroy our entire kitchen. You know the type, the screen is transformed to a black and white picture, like something out of a horror movie, while a frustrated homemaker destroys her perfect muffins because she's unable to unlock the Da Vinci code that is her inferior non-stick surface.

That's just it, these situations are created in our minds; they don't really exist. We allow people to create insecurities that we use our own weak psyches to exploit. How many times have I heard the phrase "retail therapy?" Don't think I'm mocking the concept. I'm sure it's a very real thing. It's only logical that we would flock to our local shop to upgrade one of our possessions during times when we feel overwhelmed or out of control of our everyday lives. It's our way of facing a falsely perceived shortcoming and creating a victory, no matter how meaningless. If we were truly able to maintain perspective on those big insecurities, maybe we wouldn't have to resort to raiding Target's $1 aisle so the world would make sense again.

I've taken a different course on discipline lately. I've noticed that many of Jackson's behavior issues are usually related to how he perceives his potential courses of action, rather than some purposeful decision to act like a maniac. Sometimes he just doesn't understand that his world may not be as it seems. So I now find myself spending less time BARKING at him with a "what were you thinking!" tone, and spending more time TALKING to him with a "what were you thinking?" approach.

I swear, every time I hear him explain himself and how he perceived his choices, I'm reminded of times in my life where I got it so wrong, and some, where I got it right.

Amanda and I were faced with one of these perspective type situations last weekend. On Saturday morning we got the kids fed and dressed so we could do a little shopping for some cold weather clothes. After hitting a few stores we decided to stop for lunch at WOW. For those of you who are unfamiliar with WOW, it's a your basic chicken wing joint. Think hooters + self-esteem. The place is usually littered with families because kids eat free, plus dads can watch football on one of the 73 flat screen TVs that litter the walls. The front of the restaurant has a few arcade games, and some toy-vending machines to ensure your rugrats get their junky toy fix for the day. We are regulars at our local WOW and are usually waited on by the same waitress. She has a son about Matthew's age and is always excited to compare silly toddler stories.

Well, this Saturday in particular we walk in and take a table that would provide a good view of the games for me and a nice view of the arcade games so we could keep an eye on our kids. What we didn't notice is the family of four seated at the table adjacent to ours. Maybe we don't notice them because we are so focused on all of the moving parts associated with wrangling two boys, but it probably had more to do with the fact that they were completely silent in a restaurant a buzz with activity. As soon as we sit down our boys are off. Jackson sprints to the bang-bang hunting game and Matthew follows close behind in curious delight.

Not long into our little lunch adventure Amanda begins to take notice of our lunch mates. It's a mother, father, and two kids (boy and girl). The kids are sitting perfectly still, almost zoo animal-like, while the mom CLOSELY oversees their lunch. She directs their bites and curtly and condescendingly addressing them. The husband says nothing as mom carefully orchestrates nearly every breath they collectively take. I begin to notice that she periodically glances at us in disgust. I think nothing of it. Maybe she's having a bad day. Hell, maybe we smell bad. Who knows? As our lunch arrives both boys return to the table to eat up. Jackson uses his best manners as he asks our waitress if he "may please have some more sprite." Matthew, on the other hand, is having issues. We've started to notice that he may not feel very good. He's unusually fussy and refuses to eat. (side note: the day after this event he is diagnosed with a double ear infection) Seeing this, Amanda and I go into divide and conquer mode (parental style). We take turns eating our lunch while the other of us tends to Matthew. He's up and down, walking around, and generally fighting everything.

That's when our "perspective" was tested. The young daughter at the table next to us shifts in her chair as if she's going to get down, but is swiftly rebuked by mommy dearest.

Mommy dearest: NO! You sit still and eat your food. We do not walk around in a restaurant. That's bad manners!

Now listen. I'm an adult. I can tell when something is directed at me and when it isn't. This was DIRECTLY addressed at us. This crazy tyrant was attempting to spread her rule of law from her kids to some random family she'd never seen before. Immediately my blood pressure spikes. In a split second I begin to mentally prepare countless witty/arrogant retorts that should surely teach her a lesson. Most of them involved name calling that any Sunday school teacher would find offensive. One of them even involved reaching over and kicking her chair out from under her while screaming "HOW'S THAT FOR BAD MANNERS?!?!" as her butt hits the floor.  I kid.

In an instant my temper is quickly surpassed by the growing storm of anger I see in Amanda's eyes. Her temper is unable to be swayed by fantasies of revengeful whimsy. She's mad. Really mad. Momma bear has been set free from her cage. But instead of tossing a plate of hot wings at this chick and diving across the dining room in a Nature Boy Ric Flair-like fashion, she locks eyes with me in a "talk me out of killing this chick" type gaze. In all honesty, Amanda isn't the brawling type. She's a lady. But, if anything could turn her to violence, it's her boys.

Over the next few minutes we both take the time to gain perspective on why this crazy, and obviously suicidal woman would attempt to teacher her child about manners by being so incredibly rude to someone she doesn't even know. We quickly resolved that this woman had no perspective. She treated her kids like some sort of science project, where arbitrary rules took precedent over understanding. Her husband sat in the corner like a wounded animal, unable to contribute to the parenting process. She had created her little world, and was truly bothered by those that didn't seem to adhere to her laundry list of rules.

But, we maintained perspective. Amanda didn't claw a single eye, and I didn't kick a single chair. We took comfort in the fact that we could not, and should not control every crazy person we come across. It wasn't our place to teach this woman a lesson on how to behave in public, just as much as it wasn't her place to teach our kids "good manners." If we spent our time chasing the misgivings of all those we come in contact with, how could we ever find time to examine our own lives.

Still, I have to admit that I do find myself imagining exactly what that witch's hair would've looked like covered in sweet tea and ranch dressing. hmm.......

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