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T.H.I.N.K.

I have talkative children. Out of five, I could safely say only one is quiet. Even then, once you get to know her...or better said, once she gets to know you, the silence is shattered by endless chatter. I like having communicative kids. My mom always said it was the quiet ones you had to worry about which is why she never worried about me. It wasn't supposed to be a compliment so much as a tongue-in-cheek statement but it gives me great comfort today. So far, I have no secretive children. Their lives are open audio books with no pause, stop, or removable batteries. 

The Buddies have been especially blessed with the gabby gene. For the past 7 years, they have been vocalizing every thought and feeling that has passed through their little brains as it happens. When Buddy #2 was asked to hurry up in Gramma's bathroom, he couldn't understand why the sister wouldn't just use the other one. When Gramma explained they only had one washroom he innocently but irritatedly asked, "Why did you even buy this house?!" 

Now, I believe that we should allow children to be who they are and all that, but I also think all children need to learn a level of propriety and self control. Blurting out the first thing that comes to mind is not always acceptable in civilized society and after one reaches a certain age, it's no longer "cute". Nobody who has watched Anne of Green Gables has ever described Rachel Lynde's propensity to "speak her mind" with no care for consequence as precious or enviable. Tact is key.

I have been in the process of trying to cure my sons of their reoccurring cases of verbal diarrhea. I have not yet been successful. I don't want them to be silent I just want them the think before they speak. 

This morning I took Buddy #2 (my youngest and arguably sweetest child) to Costco. On the way in he asked me the definition of "mediocre". I explained that it meant 'nothing special' or 'not particularily good' then asked where he heard the word....Who says Spongebob isn't educational? After paying for the few items we needed, I offered him the receipt. He loves holding the receipt out at the door and seeing what artistic creation the attendant has drawn on the back for his viewing pleasure. The last few times he didn't mention it and ended up with a boring, blank, "mediocre" receipt. Today, he wasn't going to miss the opportunity. "Smiley face, please." .....he said please. As we walked to the truck I told him I was glad he said please but it would be much more polite to attach a "may I have..." to the beginning of that question. In his usual, easy-going manner he said, "ok, Mom." and went about his idle chatter. 

When we got home, we had a few hours until hockey practice so I decided to teach the kids a song to sing in church on Sunday. I don't know the song particularily well, but I plunked out the melody audibly enough. After the third or fourth attempt the kids were following along quite nicely!

Now, I would not call myself a Jack of All Trades or even of some. I'm pretty good at a few things but definitely a master of none. I dabble. My boys especially have never shied away from letting me know what they think, good or bad. After hockey practice Buddy #2 felt he needed to tell me something. 

"Mom, you are a mediocre pianist. You know, nothin' special...and you do make a lot of mistakes." 

My first thought was, "How rude! Has this kid not learned anything?! His mouth moves before his brain can stop it!" But, in an effort not to display the behaviour I was trying to correct in my child, I pondered what he said before I replied. I came up with something I hoped would make him start to think before speaking.

"You're right, Buddy. I am a mediocre piano player. I'm nothing special and I do make a lot of mistakes.... And you're a mediocre hockey player."

"Wait..what?!" He started to pout, but I quickly responded.

"You're not that special. There are better players on your team. And you make a lot of mistakes."

"I can pass...."

"I can read music."

He thought about this comparison and let it sink in for a moment. He had no retort.

"I am a mediocre hockey player and you are a mediocre pianist." He replied resignedly.

"So, we have a consensus then?" I asked.

"We do." He offered. ".....What's a consensus?"

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