The Minivan Years Page 4
In the last chapter I mentioned the Piersmas, who were a major influence on my life when I was a teenager and young adult. In their house—unlike in mine—Dad, Mom, and the kids actually seemed to enjoy one another. They loved unconditionally. They talked over dinner and seemed to care about what the others were saying. They laughed together, played together, teased together, even took vacations together. Through the good and bad, they liked being together. Their enjoyment was almost contagious.
Decades later, the Piersmas still enjoy one another. They’ve been separated by distance as the kids have left home to start families of their own. Several of the children have gone through some serious struggles. Still, the close ties established early remain strong. We can’t help but wonder, when so many families struggle just to survive, what “secret formula” helped the Piersma family thrive.
Then there are the Ledbetters. We have watched this family in action for nearly twenty years, and we have come to admire and covet the success they’ve experienced in the parenting process. With two grown children and a teenager at home, Otis and Gail Ledbetter are beginning to enjoy a return on their parenting efforts. All three kids consider Mom and Dad to be among their best friends; all three have adopted Mom and Dad’s values. Certainly, they have their own opinions and preferences, but the apples have remained pretty close to the tree. Why, when so many kids are rejecting the faith and values of their parents, did the Ledbetter children readily embrace theirs? What is their “secret formula”?
If you ask Mike and Terri Beidermann to tell you about their four teenagers, be prepared for an extensive bragging session. They are proud of their kids, as they should be. Though by no means perfect, the Beidermann children reflect the love and investment of diligent, intentional parents. They have good morals, manners, discipline, and a good amount of success. They also have questions, struggles, failures, and a healthy dose of uncertainty about what they believe. But they continue to believe. They embrace the faith and values modeled by Mom and Dad even when it is unpopular to do so. Once again, the “secret formula” has worked wonders.
What is this “secret formula” for successfully passing our values to the next generation? What is the common thread among these and other families who seem to have beaten the odds in the parenting process? As we’ve watched over the years, we have seen the same important ingredient. The specific tone and makeup of each family varies, but the “secret formula” is the same. Every one of these couples discovered and mastered the art of enjoying their children and of allowing their children to enjoy them. Put simply—they learned to create an environment where they had fun together!
Observing the Piersmas, the Ledbetters, the Beidermanns, and other families has convinced us that laugher and fun are incredibly powerful tools in the process of passing values. While much of this book is dedicated to giving principles and ideas on how to teach our kids, it assumes a context of enjoying our kids. That, we believe, is one of the most important ingredients for increasing the odds.
When Kurt spends time wrestling with our boys in the basement, he does more to make our values stick than when he reads them a Bible passage. Both are important, but the former makes the latter more meaningful.
When I play a round of Go Fish with Shaun, he learns to enjoy me as a person, not merely obey me as a parent and authority figure. Again, both are important, but the former makes the latter easier to accept.
Everyone has the right to speak, but one must earn the right to be listened to. As parents, we must realize that when we play with our kids today, we are earning the right to shape their values tomorrow. Remember, they are more likely to embrace the values of someone they love and enjoy than of someone they don’t. So let’s adopt the secret formula that seems to have worked so well for so many parents. Let’s have fun with our kids!
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Mini-Tip
FUN DAY
If you lack the creativity or inclination for spontaneous fun, go ahead and force the issue by placing “Fun Day” on the weekly calendar to make sure you intentionally plan something the kids will enjoy. It could be as simple as making chocolate chip pancakes for Saturday morning breakfast, getting out the Junior Monopoly game when they come home from school, or scheduling a picnic dinner on the living room floor. Just ask the kids for a list of suggestions, and fill the calendar with joy!
CHAPTER 6
Mini-Budgets
TEACHING FINANCIAL TIMES
When preparing for a vacation, we moms worry about packing enough socks, underwear, toiletries, and clothes. The kids, on the other hand, worry about the really important stuff—like swimsuits, stuffed animals, and coloring books. On our most recent trip, then five-year-old Nicole became particularly intense about bringing a small, pink pocket purse she had been using to store her personal Fort Knox—a collection of coins assembled over the preceding months by snatching up every bit of loose change she could find.
Some of the quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies had been found on counters and night-stands. But most had come from Daddy’s pocket. Mastering the fine art of feminine persuasion at an early age, Nicole discovered the secret to sudden wealth—puppy dog eyes behind periodic “Daddy, can I have some money?” inquiries. Her recent take: two dollars and fifty-seven cents, not including the random coins that brought the total beyond the three-dollar threshold.
Now comes the really impressive part. Nicole managed to go two whole vacation days carrying that purse around without spending a single penny. She protected her stash in anticipation of day three, when the family would visit Greenfield Village and the Henry Ford Museum where she would see horse-drawn carriages, ride a historic train, and, above all, visit the gift shop filled with wonderfully useless souvenirs. Useless souvenirs that would of course require a significant portion of her net worth.
Before we even set foot inside the park, Nicole’s gaze fixed upon the most amazing contraption her young eyes had ever beheld—one of those machines that takes an ordinary penny and smashes it into a smooth, flat keepsake and imprints a picture of an early Ford automobile. Of course, the privilege of turning your penny into a worthless trinket cost fifty cents—bringing the total investment up to just over half a dollar. What’s worse, it required removing from the purse two quarters—bringing her supply of coins down from eight to six. After a momentary hesitation, however, she decided it was a worthy way to spend part of her vast fortune.
After placing the flat copper thingy inside her purse in place of the fifty-one cents, Nicole moved on to enjoy the park—still anticipating that wonderful moment at the end of the day when the entire family would walk into the gift shop to watch her choose any souvenir her heart desired.
Two hours and thirty-seven minutes later, Nicole encountered yet another wonder. This time, a machine that formed hot plastic into one of two shapes: a Model T Ford or a bust of Henry Ford himself. No five-year-old could live without one of those. So, against Mom’s urging to save her money, Nicole chose the bust—eagerly retrieving eight shiny quarters to slip into the money slot before pressing the magic button that turned ten cents’ worth of plastic into a keepsake certain to be discarded before day’s end.
Moments later as the thrill of retrieving her very own Henry Ford subsided, Nicole opened her purse to assess the damage. “Buyer’s remorse” doesn’t begin to describe her reaction.
“Ohhhhhhh noooooo!” came a high-pitched whine.
“What’s the matter?” I inquired, assuming she might have discovered a flaw on Henry’s likeness. I noticed her peering into her pink purse with an angry scowl, as if some thief had stolen her prized possession. Peering over Nicole’s slumping shoulders, I glanced into the purse. Where there had previously been a supply of large, shiny quarters now sat a pitiful pile of pennies, nickels, and a dime or two. Her Fort Knox had become a pauper’s box.
“I didn’t want to spend my money on that!” a weeping Nicole exclaimed.
Teachable moments just don’t come more perfectly wrappe
d. I seized the opportunity and with the most compassionate voice I could muster said, “Well, Nicole, you’ve learned a good lesson through this. You have to be careful with your money, saving it for what is really important.”
Nicole immediately stopped crying, a puzzled look overtaking her face. She looked up at me with indignant condescension and corrected a statement that, from her perspective, had nothing whatsoever to do with her present distress.
“I didn’t learn that lesson, Mommy!” she corrected. “I learned that I need more money!”
Tell me about it, sweetheart. Tell me about it!
Years before Nicole or Troy came along, Kurt and I conducted a little exercise with our older boys to teach them the value of money. Viewing an allowance as a good way to help kids learn to budget, we decided to start giving then eight-year-old Kyle and six-year-old Shaun a few dollars per week to manage. Before doing so, however, we wanted to teach them the basic biblical principles of financial stewardship.
We scheduled a family night to create an object lesson that the boys would never forget. Kurt went to the bank and withdrew one thousand one-dollar bills. After receiving some odd looks from the bank teller, she complied and handed over a big chunk of our life savings. Cash in hand, we were ready for the big event.
To start our family night we told the boys that we had hidden a treasure somewhere in the house for them to find. They excitedly began their search, running from one room to the next looking for who knows what. Before long, we heard Shaun scream out in disbelief. He had found the money pile.
We caught up with the boys downstairs, right where we expected. What we didn’t expect, however, was such an enthusiastic reaction. Both of them were throwing money in the air, rolling about in an ocean of cash as Shaun exclaimed, “We’re rich! We’re rich! Now we can buy a house with a swimming pool and a Nintendo Sixty-Four!”
“Just a minute.” Dad’s wet blanket landed with a plop. “Before going too crazy, we need to follow God’s instructions for money.” The boys gave each other a knowing glance. As suspected, a lesson had to be learned before the fun could begin.
“Once we follow God’s instructions for money, we are going to let you guys spend the money on whatever you want!” Kurt explained, rekindling their anticipation. “Look through the pile and find an envelope labeled God’s Instructions for Money so we can get started.”
The envelope contained a letter detailing several steps the children had to follow in order to discover biblical guidelines for finances. To start, they had to count the cash. We had no idea just how long it would take for an eight- and six-year-old to count a thousand bucks. But they eventually got there, setting up their second step.
“The first thing we must do with the money is give ten percent to the church,” Kurt explained. After asking Kyle to read several Bible passages about giving, Kurt instructed them to count out one hundred dollars and place the bills in front of a picture of a church building.
“The Bible also says we are supposed to save—so I want you to count out another one hundred dollars to put in the bank.” As the boys counted, I sensed Shaun starting to worry. After removing a second pile of bills, however, a fairly high percentage of the stash remained.
“Finally, the Bible teaches us to ‘owe no man anything’—so we must pay our bills. Once we’ve done that, like I promised, you can spend this cash on anything in the world you’d like.” The page listed several bills with dollar amounts required to pay for our house, our food, our car, our clothes, and other things. As the boys counted out the required amounts, color drained from Shaun’s once eager face.
As you might imagine, the total brought the drain to nine hundred ninety-eight dollars, leaving a single bill for each boy’s spending splurge. We ended our evening by helping the boys create allowance boxes with three sections—give, save, and spend—and teaching them the rhyme “Before you spend away—give, save, and pay!”
The next morning, Kurt rushed our life savings back to the bank.
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Mini-Tip
MONEY MANAGEMENT
It is never too early to begin modeling and teaching your children about handling money. Why not start when they are young by setting up a give, save, and spend allowance box? You can also find helpful tools for teaching money management to young children by visiting www.crown.org and www.daveramsey.com.
CHAPTER 7
Mini-Hurts
REDEEMING PAINFUL TIMES
Shaun stands beside a classmate, dressed in western attire for the special country music performance. The awkward expression on his face shows his feelings about the straw hat he’s wearing—not cool. Of course, we took advantage of the moment to snap a candid. Most people might consider the photo forgettable—more suited for the discard pile than the refrigerator door. But to me, it is a treasured keepsake.
Shaun has been image conscious practically from birth—always admiring the latest clothes, hairstyles, and hip lingo. Somehow, he knew the meaning of cool before he could say the word. At the age of three he used to scoot out to the edge of our front lawn on his tricycle in hopes of catching a glimpse at the older, cooler kindergartners walking past our house on the way to school. Those sporting edgy clothes or radical haircuts got a wave and a smooth “hi, there.” Those who were too cute or perky didn’t get the time of day. To excite Shaun when he was four, I took him shopping for a new shirt or pair of shoes. He insisted on going along to make sure he got the right look.
A bright, talented, sweet little guy, Shaun is definitely all boy. Only two years younger than Kyle, he always felt a bit competitive with his older brother. Some would call it sibling rivalry; we prefer “iron sharpening iron.” Shaun lost enough wrestling matches with Kyle to develop a tough exterior. But underneath it, he has an extremely tender and vulnerable spirit.
One day, Kurt and I attended an all-school awards ceremony. You know, the kind where kids sit cross-legged on the gymnasium floor while camcorder-armed parents stand in the back, hoping to capture the big moment when their child’s name gets called. Shaun sat with the other first graders, and his brother was a few rows up with the third grade class. Kurt and I stood in back, watching our sleeping baby with one eye and the ceremony with the other. Fifteen minutes into the program, we heard our Kyle’s name called. I cheered while Kurt hit the record button. We were happy for Kyle, who had received several of these awards before, but worried for Shaun, wondering how he would feel if Kyle got an award but he didn’t.
We held our breaths as the principal announced the first grade awards. When they reached the end of the list, Shaun remained seated.
Shaun pretended not to care, but his heart was crushed. (Why do they allow siblings to attend these ceremonies together anyway?) After the closing announcement we walked home, Kyle proudly displaying his certificate, Shaun tightly holding my hand.
“Maybe I’ll get an award next time, right, Mom?”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I willed a cheerful response.
“Right, sweetheart. Maybe next time.”
Shaun forgot his disappointment within hours, thanks to heaps of sincere but overdone praise from his parents. But I will never forget it. Kyle’s certificate went on display in his bedroom, gathering dust with the others. But the photograph of Shaun in his straw hat made our photo gallery—a reminder that no matter how tough he tries to appear on the outside, our second little boy has a very tender heart. And, while we may not be able to protect Shaun from award assemblies or other more traumatic tragedies, we can nurture his spirit—and buy him cool clothes.
One of the most difficult parts of mommyhood are times when we must helplessly watch our precious little ones endure painful experiences. Everything within me wants to shield my children from scraped knees, hurt feelings, high fevers, and crushing disappointments. But I can’t. Sooner or later, painful times will come. My task is not to prevent them but to increase the odds my children will thrive in spite of them.
I find inspiration
in this regard when recalling an incident that occurred in 1986. My husband’s best boyhood friend, Don Beck, boarded a plane at Detroit’s Metropolitan Airport—leaving his young bride and baby boy behind to extend their visit with family. But as the plane hurtled down the runway, it did not rise at the normal point; instead, it continued hundreds of feet farther before lifting almost fifty feet. The plane clipped the edge of a rental car building, ricocheted off the embankment of an access road to the interstate, and disintegrated into chunks of fiery metal.
More than one hundred passengers died that day—including a young father leaving behind a grieving wife and a baby boy who would never know his daddy. But in the midst of tragic loss, a glimmer of hope emerged.
A child was found alive. According to one news account,* rescue workers found four-year-old Cecilia Cichan in a child’s car seat, moaning amid the crash debris. Some assumed she had been in a car trapped beneath the plane. Instead, she turned out to be the sole surviving passenger.
While no one can know for certain, some rescuers believed that Cecilia’s mother, Paula, saved her daughter’s life by wrapping herself around the child’s seat to protect her. Knowing she couldn’t stop the tragedy, Paula presumably did her best to place her daughter in an environment that would increase her chances for survival.
I cannot prevent my children from going through pain and heartache in this life. But I can follow the example of Paula. Just as she wrapped her body around that precious little girl to absorb the impact and flames, I can wrap my children in the protective reassurance of my unconditional love.