25 Years With Paul

I have been married a long time.

First contact.  (Actual historical document.)

When Paul and I got married we were both working hard in related industries.  In fact, we slotted our wedding between job fairs, publishing deadlines and upcoming presentations.  List upon list of "to-do" items were checked off, etiquette books read and discarded, and friends called upon for help over and above that which we deserved.  But, in spite of all of our efforts, when we finally made it to the wedding we realized that we had entirely forgotten to obtain a marriage license.  The Rabbi was quite nice.  “Well, I’ll marry you in the eyes of G-d, and you guys can work it out with the State of California later.”  Now we have two anniversary dates.  The first marks the lovely little wedding we held at the location of our first dinner date. The second marks a giggling agreement made in a Los Angeles courthouse, in front of a stranger with a gold tooth and a lisp.

I now pronounce you man and wife, sort of.

It’s funny to get married twice in two weeks.  It was a second chance, I guess, to say “Great party, fun trip to Maui, but let’s not get carried away here.”  Instead we took a chance and said yes again, to an uncertain future with a person we knew just a little bit. 

25 years later

Now I know that I was lucky to happen upon this hard working, honest man. Over the years I’ve learned about his willingness to help people, to take the high road when everyone else was on the low road and to prioritize his children’s needs ahead of his own.  I’ve also learned that he shoots a mean dart gun, that he can fix tractors (most of the time) and that he’s a sucker for dogs. Sure, he might play his guitar too loud when I am trying to work, or drive too fast or stubbornly insist on a brown couch but these things are forgiven as I hope he forgives my skeptical nature, my terrible golf game and my revulsion for seafood.

When we had our tenth anniversary Paul and I picked out new rings. I asked him if he thought we should renew our vows.  He asked me why I would want to --his were still working just fine. “Let’s check in again at 50 years,” he suggested.

Sometime around our 15^th anniversary Paul planted 15 lilac trees on our property.  “They won’t bloom for years!” I lamented.  “We have time,” he promised.  Like most of our plans for life, not every tree made it, but the ones that did now fill each spring with a lush purple reminder of all the promises Paul has made to me that he has kept.

“You should have married somebody more pliable.” I mused aloud on our 20th.  “Someone who likes scuba diving, doesn’t get dizzy on a step stool and celebrates Christmas with good cheer.”  His answer both heartened me and foretold of more years of struggle in my future:  “Where would the fun be in that?” 

This year I asked Paul what we should do to celebrate our 25^th anniversary.  “Let’s start something new.”  He said.  “Something we can do when we’re old together.”  Sounds good.

Burrowes family portrait.

Push. Don't Pull.

Rereading that last blog I wondered why, if brainwashing is so achievable through repetition, I have been such an utter failure at brainwashing my kids over the years.

Lord knows we tried.
Photo: Informed-hypnosis.com

This morning I took my younger daughter and her friend to a wrestling tournament (yes, wrestling) and as her friend hopped into the car (at 6:30 am) she said “Sorry to keep you waiting.  My Mom was giving me Parent Lecture Number 37. “  For those of you unfamiliar with the numbering system Parent Lecture Number 37 has to do with the buddy system and safety. 

"Now, before you go out there are a couple things I want to go over..."
Photo:  Heroesite.com

In case you are curious, Parent Lectures Numbers 1-36 are progressively more complicated but less explicit instructions for life.  For example, Parent Lecture Number 1 is very specific: “Don’t put that into your mouth” (this lecture is repeated in teenage years as Parent Lecture Number 1-B, and carries an R rating.) Number Six is “Brush your teeth in a circular motion.”  By the time Parent Lecture Number 12 rolls around directions are becoming more general:  “Personal Hygiene is very important.” 

"Go ahead.  I'm listening."
Photo: boreme.com

My girls tend to finish my sentences when I give them unsolicited advice... and that is supposed to prove that they understand.  I learned long ago that it really just means that they have a good memory.  I have often assured my husband that one day our teenagers will wake up and all the years of parent lectures will be finally be fully integrated, and maybe even operational. They will be young adults. Our brainwashing child-rearing work will be done. The kids will launch lives of their own. Or will they?

What we envision.

What we get?
Photo: blogs.discovery.com

Just when you think you can see the end of the parenting tunnel, the route shifts. This month, Scientific American Mind (January 2013) ran an article about a new developmental stage for our young people called “Emerging Adulthood.”  It discusses the growing use of the term “Emerging Adult” for ages 20 and up, and how this new label could encourage our kids to take on responsibility more slowly. According to this model, some of our children may not realize full adulthood until age 35.  A Pew Research Center study supports the delayed adulthood paradigm: fewer young people are moving out of state and getting driver’s licenses, and more adult children are living with parents and marrying later.  The question is, what happened?  Did we socially construct this developmental stage through our media portrayals (e.g., Failure to Launch) and our willingness to accept what Scientific American Mind calls “short-term social trends” as the new norm?  Have we permanently lowered our expectations? Once you label something like “Emerging Adult” does it make it so? Is that yet another subtle, negative form of the brainwashing of our kids?

Reaching age 35 does not guarantee adulthood...
Photo: newsone.com

Instead of encouraging our kids to be independent (Parent Lecture Number 32) labels like “Emerging Adult” encourage our kids to hunker down in childhood until they are wrinkled versions of their adolescent selves.  It doesn’t have to be that way.  The same Pew Study tells us that most people in their twenties are working, many do not mooch off their parents and most have social stability and healthy relationships.  So, do we need to (negatively?) label an entire generation, and beyond?  Is this really about their lack of readiness? Or is it more about our need to pull them in close in a scary world, rather than pushing them to go and find their best selves?

Mom, this is not what I meant by "seeing the world"
Photo: oakland.k12.mi.us

If we are to expect more from our kids, and if they are to achieve more, then it seems that the thing keeping them from emerging might very well be us.  Maybe a different label would help us think about our kids more positively, and help them form healthy self-images.  Instead of the dubious “Emerging Adult” stage, how about  “Mom gets her Home Office” years, the “Able to Hold My Liquor “ age, the “Still Good Looking and Relatively Smart” developmental window or the “My Frontal Lobe is Finally Fully Formed” stage?

Maybe merit badges would help.
Photo: trendhunter.com

Yesterday we went out with our older daughter.  Out of caring habit my husband told her to buckle her seat belt (Parent lecture Number 8.)  “I’m twenty,” she stated flatly.  Oh yah.