It's hard to guess - stop trying

“Hey Gabriel! Get on the D!”. The words come through our open kitchen window. Finally it’s a mild afternoon and the kids are playing ball hockey. I’m listening because my two are part of the fray. I really notice that comment because the Gabriel who needs to get on the “D” is mine.

It’s just a comment between kids playing but I’m immediately anxious, waiting to hear what’s going happen next. Does he care he’s getting yelled at? Does he even know what “the D” is? I’m hoping it won’t end in tears. When social/sporty things get challenging for Gabriel it’s not unusual for him to give up entirely. Which, in true maternal guilt fashion, I interpret as a failure on my part. But no, the game continues, with Gabriel! Maybe he’s figured out what “D” is?

Moments later I hear crying. I head out and see Gabriel being escorted home by one of the older girls. “He got hit in the face with a slap shot, whatever that is” she tells me. (She doesn’t know what a slap shot is????.). Gabriel is in tears and one hand is clamped firmly on his right cheek. I simultaneously hug him and try to peel his hand away. His cheek is flaming red and I gently open his mouth, scared I’m going to see blood and broken teeth. But I see neither. Aside from a tiny drop of blood on his lip (which is probably from them being chapped) he is perfectly fine. But I lead him home, relieved that he can “gracefully” exit the game with a good excuse before he ends up quitting in frustration. “No, I want to keep playing”. He’s already pulling away from me and heading back to the game. And these are the moments in parenting when you are reminded that you might as well give up trying to guess what’s going to happen next.

Another recent example of this lack of predictability comes courtesy of Gabe’s best buddy, D. We've recently noticed that Gabriel has developed a facial tic. He periodically takes very exaggerated deep breaths in. He opens his mouth wide and you can clearly hear him take a gulp of air. And within the past couple of weeks it’s been happening with increasing frequency. It seemed inevitable that someone aside from family was going to notice and ask about it. And it was D. The exchange went something like this –

D – Why are you doing that?


Gabriel – That’s how I breathe.


D –Can’t you just breathe like this? (helpfully demonstrates normal human respiration)


Gabriel - No.

Now D’s a super sweet kid, but in my mind the next words out of his mouth are something along the line of “that’s so weird” or “annoying”. Not mean, but negative. But no, D says “Huh. I’m going to breathe like that too”. And he gives it a try. Did I see that one coming? Nope. Of all the reactions I anticipated, admiration wasn’t even on my radar. I felt immeasurably better and it gave me some much needed perspective.

And that’s parenting for you right there. You might as well not even bother trying to anticipate the outcome of, well anything really. Just sit back and wait for it to happen. Easy right? Of course once “it” happens, you are very often compelled to actually do something. Darn.