Thursday, August 18, 2016

Ridiculous Enjoyment

The standards we cling to for enjoyment are often established at home, as we grow up.  You seek out the models that were provided as a child in an attempt to cling to what feels normal.  If your home was full of warmth and happiness, you probably have come to expect that in your adult life, as you should.  If your home was a dearth of such things, you may have encountered challenges as you blindly attempted to navigate society, as was the case for me.  Seeking happiness and fulfillment in life sounds simple enough, but what if you never learned how?  Top-level competitors are taught fundamentals before they excel, not after.  Can you play a game well, before knowing the rules?

Perhaps I say this too much, but my children have truly taught me so much.  They have taught me the meaning of kindness and unconditional love.  They have taught me patience and understanding.  They have also taught me that food that looks odd can be odd without any set definition; there is no one-size-fits-all standard.  For example, one food may be disliked because it's slimy or slippery or because of a certain color, all while wolfing down food that also fits this wholly inexact standard from the same plate because it's their favorite.  The logic of a child with a single-digit age surprises me regularly, and pleasantly.

When my daughter was seven, we were able to use an unexpected windfall to purchase iPads for our children for Christmas — a decision I have never regretted.  A modern tablet is engaging and educational, and my children have fun, all while learning to navigate modern technology the same way I learned to ride a bike.  My children read more, and are challenged to improve their critical thinking skills when outcomes are not as expected.

iPads also provide a means to stream videos on a personalized level with endless apps and services.  Although my children do not fully understand the concept of servers and streaming, they understand how to function within that environment  similar to how I learned to use a television around the same age.  When the iPads still had that new-car-smell, my children were consumed by the discovery phase, determined to learn everything they could, frequently inviting us to share in their enthusiasm.


It was during this phase that my daughter was watching the Wallace and Gromit show when my she turned to her mother and said, "Mama!  I love these shows!  Thank you for putting them on my iPad!  They're ridiculous!"

Of course they are.

To borrow from Maya Angelou, "people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."