Completing a perfect circle

KAREN WIGHT

As a parent, nothing is more gratifying than seeing your children

grow up and have “aha” moments -- when circumstances, combined with

life experience, give a glimpse of understanding ourselves, our

peers, our relationships ... brief moments of understanding why we

are the way we are. Ahas are beautiful things.

I remember standing in front of a wall of child psychology books

many years ago and flipping through a bevy of titles: “The

Strong-Willed Child,” “How To Talk So Kids Will Listen” and

“Effective Discipline,” wondering if any of the experts could help me

raise my headstrong, precocious daughter to become a happy, kind,

self-reliant adult. There were days when the nature vs. nurture

debate played over and over again in my mind.

After a few more children, I realized that as much as my “nurture”

was molding them, there was also their own “nature” to contend with.

You can give credence to birth order, gender differences and

parenting styles, but you cannot deny that each tiny person is born

with a unique resume. Why does one child continually push the limits,

while another child looks on and shakes his head as if to say, “You

really think that’s going to work?”

I’ve always said that I can’t take credit for all the good things

my kids did because I’m not going to take the blame for all their

naughty moments. This is the way they grow up -- learning as much, if

not more, from their failures as from their successes.

You know what I’m talking about -- you try to save them from

themselves and it never works. They still fall down and skin their

knee, even though you tell them to slow down; they still get their

heart broken by a first love; and eventually they’ll get betrayed by

a friend or neighbor. It’s not the bumps along the road that make or

break us; it’s how we handle the bumps.

It’s the same way we learned how to navigate life. I’m sure my

parents’ hopes and dreams for me didn’t include many of the moments

that have made me stronger and more compassionate. And so it goes.

You learn to let go and have faith that it will work out, or if it

doesn’t work out, that the lesson is worth the angst in the end.

And then, there is a perfect moment in time when the universes

line up as if to confirm the reason for our very existence -- our

children recognize a life lesson at the exact moment it’s happening

-- an aha moment. To top off the perfection of the experience, they

share the aha with their parent, and the parent knows that the unruly

child has crossed the threshold to becoming an adult.

My oldest daughter’s big aha has come through coaching a high

school water polo team. At first, I wondered why any high school

would allow a 19-year-old college sophomore to coach anything. Then I

found out how much it paid, and it all made sense. Annie is actually

co-coaching with a teammate from the UC Berkeley women’s water polo

team. Annie and Amy have taken on Alameda High School athletics.

The season has brought many opportunities for Annie’s personal

reflection. The first was offered when one of the parents made a

comment about her driving skills -- proclaiming that she must be from

Southern California. You’ve got to love it when another adult tells

your kid to SLOW DOWN.

Then there was a conversation that I had with Annie about the

girls who don’t want to work hard in practice. Imagine. A high school

athlete who doesn’t want to do the coaches’ swim sets. Appalling.

What are you going to do with a child who doesn’t listen to what

you say, or even worse, hears what you say and then chooses not to

follow directions? Hmmm, let me think about that. A coach (read:

parent) who has a kid on his or her team (read: child) who challenges

authority. I hate when that happens.

And by the way, do you hear my heart singing?

I am so intrigued by this process that I am flying up to watch one

of Annie’s games -- excuse me, not Annie’s game, the Alameda High

School girls’ water polo team. Help me picture this: Annie (dry)

sitting on the bench (without an exclusion) giving directions and

encouragement to a young team in hopes of inspiring them to achieve

personal success. Sigh.

The circle is complete.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs

Thursdays.