For Posterity

Having written this blog fitfully but faithfully since 2007, I can safely say, much of the chaos of childhood for many of my children, has been recorded here for posterity.  They will know the reality of their growing up, even if they do not remember it as such. 

One thing blogging does for a person, is give a sense of perspective. I can look back and determine, "Haven't we done this before," and trust to my own testimony over my own memory. 

So when my youngest lamented over the apparent uselessness of math, I could show her, a long line of brothers and sisters who complained before her, survived second grade and went on to handle even more complex mathematical equations.  She took the news harder than one might have hoped, seeing the past performance of her siblings as proof her complaints would be noted, logged and ignored.  (She's not wrong). Math would indeed, go on being assigned despite her displeasure. 

"Some day." she warned, "I'm going to write  a blog, and prove to the world that no one needs math." 

The problem with having nine older siblings is, at least one of them at any given point in time, longs to prove you wrong, and has the psuedo data to do it. Sure enough, three siblings immediately launched into a vigorous defense of all things math, sternly warning her of the need to become proficient in basic facts.  They touted their own experience, all the times they did well on tests, and as an added gesture of sibling kindness, offered to tutor her for the next test. 

I've helped enough of these kiddos with math enough to know, if someone else wanted the job, I'd be just fine.   What the helpful brothers and sisters don't realize is, she doesn't want the info necessarily. I know she can do all this math with her eyes shut.  She wants to be the author of a revolution, to eradicate the field of study.  Her older brothers and sisters are far too invested in the status quo to mollify her temper in this matter.   They enjoy the satisfaction of telling her, there is no third option.

They have not reckoned with Anna-Maria's fierce spirit. 

My money's on the revolutionary.   

Thrown Into the Pit by the Monkey's Uncle

Today's victim will be the parents of the four year old who fell into the Gorilla exhibit at the Cincinnati zoo.

Normally sane people have decided it is their job to cry for the heads of the parents for failing to properly safeguard their child.

"Let's judge this couple. It's justified! Everyone, feel free to be righteous, after all, your kid didn't fall into a Gorilla pit!  Feel free to throw poo at them.  Threaten to take away their child.   Lacerate them as bad parents.  Bankrupt them!"

If you read the com boxes, follow Facebook or engage in any sort of social media, you will find all of these responses.

How they know the parents failed to safeguard their child? The kid fell into the Gorilla pit! It is a neat and tidy argument.  Who could argue with the neglect which must be involved for a kid to fall into a Gorilla pit?  After all, no one else's kid ever fell into a Gorilla pit!

I will.

I will because I have woken to find my kids standing on top of three legged stools holding a broom in the air, trying to bring down a balloon that escaped, not noticing they are in danger of falling. Not noticing they could break the light fixture in the room where the balloon is, not noticing anything but the balloon.

I've had kids put syrup on their fingers and try to leap to the wall to stick like Spiderman. I've run after my son barefoot in the snow when he learned how to open the front lock and bolted for the street.

I have stopped my children from bringing the hairdryer near the sink, stopped them from falling into a pool when they couldn't swim, fished quarters out of their mouths and told them NOT to ferret something out of the garbage when they wanted more snack!

The point is, we watch kids all the time.  We warn kids all the time.  They still do stupid things.

Last week, I told a teen not to ride in the trunk of a mini-van.  It wasn't my kid but I didn't care. The kid found a better safer ride after I told him, "Don't do that."  But if I hadn't walked out to say good-bye, if I'd stayed inside and started cleaning up, I might have missed that moment to stop him, and it might have been tragic instead of bemusing about the nature of children, even older children.

They do not see the danger.  Their eyes have not been trained, their minds have not been trained to think things all the way through and in the course of any given day, there are countless dangers as a parent we see, that our kids do not.

It is the one we will one day miss that haunts us...what if one day...

As adults, as parents, it is our job to see the danger, to anticipate, and to be ever vigilant.  However, we live in a world of distraction.

I've seen countless scornful..."I bet they were on their phones."  It's possible.  How many of us have been distracted by our phones?

I've seen "he has  rap sheet."  He may.

It doesn't matter.

I don't have a rap sheet, but I've had that cold shiver down the spine when I don't know where one of mine is, and I know, I was reading or writing or making dinner and somehow lost track of time and need to find that one child and it is a frantic crazed I will never forgive myself kind of search that takes place.  We've all had that moment as parents at some point.

Because we're human.  We're fallible.  We get distracted.  We are distracted.   We might even be being distracted by something normal, like needing to go to the bathroom, trying to find the snack shop on the map, checking our wallet for money, but it only takes a moment. It only takes a second.  Maybe you tie your shoe.  Maybe you're swatting away a bee or thinking about where to go next or talking to your spouse about the Gorilla for a moment, or reading the display and the information.

Making this sad story (and it is sad to have to kill a beautiful rare creature), into a referendum on parents via armchair quarterbacking the parents' vigilance when we weren't there and don't know, is uncharitable to all concerned, including us.   It makes us into the mob picking up the stones. Anyone want to be identified with the Pharisees?

The child is safe.  A gorilla is dead.  Would these same people be calling for the zoo to close if the officials had allowed the child to be killed by not shooting the gorilla?  Even if the parents were negligent, should the child pay the price?

Because that's what you're saying if you think they shouldn't have shot the gorilla to protect the kid.

Sometimes in life, there are mistakes and there are not easy answers.   Sometimes, we can do everything right and still have a sad or incomplete happy ending.

The desire to feel smugly superior to this family does nothing for the zoo, the gorilla, the fate of gorillas, the child, the parents, their parenting skills, the family in general, or the improvement of society as a whole.

No one wants to have their lives defined by their worst moments, or by the brain lapse moments that can happen in an instant.   Seeing your four year old dragged around by a creature you cannot predict, control or stop, has to be one of the worst moments anyone could ever have as a parent, except perhaps now, when it seems the whole world is calling for your head.

This is not how a charitable society acts.  This is not how a people who are celebrating "The Year of Mercy" should respond.   So I'd beg everyone to stop trying to throw the parents into the pit and thumping their chests in superiority or outrage.   If you feel really strongly about the loss of the gorilla, give to the zoo to help them with conservation, or adopt a gorilla via the World Wild Life Fund.  

Is negligence a possibility? Absolutely, but we do not know.  Let those who saw, those who were there, and those most affected by the story, make the decisions about the consequences of this unfortunate series of events, and let the rest of us, thank God the child is unhurt, and remember, it only takes a moment for a kid to think, "I will climb up onto the counter to get a cup because I'm thirsty."  or "I will throw a baseball through the rip in the screen door." or "I will leave my wallet in the car." because all of these things happened just this weekend, and I was running after them and watching, reminding them, stopping them, saying, "This is not a good idea!" in so many words.

It's a good thing, we don't live near a Gorilla pit.