Capabilities

As I sat down to breakfast this morning, I gazed with not a little wonder at the plate before me. It held one of my faves: egg-in-the-hole. Yes, a piece of wheat bread with a hole ripped in the middle and a lovely egg resting inside the empty space. Atop it were leftover roasted autumn veggies, tiny potatoes and Brussel sprouts, a few pepper slices, some hunks of carrot... Can you picture it? And then, the crowning jewel atop the veg—a sardine.

Scrumptious, yes? Aren't you jealous?

If you aren't, I won't take it personally. If you'd told me 30 years ago that I'd look upon this as a desirable dish, I would have laughed. I couldn't imagine eating something so savory and unsweet at that point in my life. It was beyond comprehension. I still inhaled ice cream most days, drank sweet tea, scarfed down Ho-Hos for lunch. I distinctly recall my splurge in college being Hostess brand raspberry-coconut coated Zingers.

(Not to say I wouldn't still enjoy those on a daily basis today. I mean, come on—those things are amazing.)

But thanks to sugar issues, changing metabolic rates, middle age, and a more sedentary lifestyle, I was forced to become much more health-conscious in the past decade, and it's been good for me. I've become a better and more creative cook, I've learned much more about our food supply, I actively seeking homegrown and local options for the kitchen... And my palate has expanded exponentially. As it should, since I'm a reluctant grownup now.

I described my breakfast meal only to preface the point of this post—that being, we as humans have an incredible capacity for change through growth. Most of us are constantly changing, and often not by choice; sometimes, however, through limitations or fear of consequences, the changes make us better people.

I've gotten better at budgets because of times when we lacked. I've grown more active lately because of the adopted dog who needs activity. Would I have chosen to go through tight financial periods? Heck, no. It was rough. But I'm wiser now because of it, and I have more faith in God's provision. Would I have picked out a high-energy dog intentionally so I'd be forced to exercise? Good grief, no—I wasn't eyeballing the purse-fitting dogs or anything, but I would likely have gravitated to a couch-loving breed of small beast, and we would probably have grown chubbier together... God knew I didn't need more relaxation.

So, what's the point? I guess what I'm saying is it's increasingly clear to me that what initially looks like suffering or denial will, in most cases, end up being a doorway to a good place that I would never have discovered otherwise.

And the big picture? We have the ability to be altered. We are capable of falling into bad habits, but equally capable of teaching ourselves (or being forced to learn) new, better habits. Our beliefs can shift, our behaviors can change, we can improve. We don't have to let life happen to us.

Isn't that empowering?

Getting so big…sort of

Last week was a long, painful one. It was potty training boot camp here at our home. It was not fun. It needed to happen, the time was right, but fun was not had. The whole experience has reminded me, though, of how we humans resist change—especially change that involves growth.

We played hardball with the boy, and simply talked about the merits of underpants for several days, warned him that there were no more diapers after Sunday, etc. And then, we started putting him in tiny tighty whities. Well, not whities, exactly—there were small Thomas the Trains emblazoned on them, so they weren’t all white. But you get the idea.

Of course, I did a lot of laundry during those days. I covered the upholstered furniture with sheets and blankets. We had an encore viewing of Elmo’s Potty Time, a lovely instructional DVD that a neighbor passed to us after their youngest had mastered the art. And we talked about potties. And pee. And the other. Endlessly. After a couple of days of being stuck at home in wet clothes, the kid’s incredibly strong, stubborn will began to break. There were touch-and-go successes, and then more successes than failures. And then, number 1 was accomplished. We haven’t slipped up with number 1 for almost a week. Number 2? Another story. He still prefers to sneak off somewhere and do what he shouldn’t. We’ll keep working on it.

But what was most difficult about the week, and continues to be difficult, is my son’s sudden and suffocating need for me. All the time. Constantly. I used to be able to run downstairs for a few minutes to do laundry, check email, clean cat litter, and he’d be fine, singing to himself, talking with his toys, whatever. No longer. Now, if I’m out of his sight for a moment, he starts calling for me. He finds reasons to “need” me:

“Mama, come see how cute my animals are. Mama. MAMA!”

“Mommy, help me build baseball stadium out of Duplos. Mama, come here!”

“Where are you, Mama? Come in my room! Please!?”

He’s suddenly incapable of entertaining himself, even for a minute. It’s been making me crazy. And I didn’t get it, couldn’t see why this is happening, why he’s regressing in this area. I only knew I wanted to poke my eyes out. Many times. More times than I had eyes.

And then I thought about it, and I think I understand. He’s made this giant step—a step toward bigness, a step that undeniably moves him away from babyhood. We keep talking up the big kid idea, trying to glamorize it. And he’s not stupid; kids are pretty good at reading between the lines. If we’re making such a big deal about it, then being a big kid must not be all good. There must be a price to pay for independence from diapers.

So, he’s clinging to his mom. He’s taking that big-boy step in one area, but he’s still holding tightly to Mom in other areas. Yeah, Thomas undies are cool, but being a little boy is cool, too. Going to the dinosaur museum was great! But staying home and snuggling on the couch watching “Arthur” is nothing to sneeze at.

And aren’t we the same way? Change?! What!? No! I like things the way they are! I like my dirty, stinky pants! I don’t want to be clean and dry and mature! What’s so great about growing up? If it’s so wonderful, then how come people are so crazy about babies and little kids? Aren’t they just jealous? You know it!

Change and growth are tough, even when they’re in our best interest. Thank goodness there are dinosaur museums, and carousels, and roller coasters to tempt little boys to use the potty. Thank goodness that as adults, we can look back over our biggest life changes and see how they’ve stretched us, expanded us, made us stronger and better than we used to be. If we choose to see things that way, perhaps we can begin to embrace change for the catalyst to improved conditions that it often is.

Perhaps. Or perhaps we'll just find a quiet corner and happily soil ourselves.