Labor Day weekend has been probably one of the most productive weekends in a long time, as far as family goes. We registered for some baby stuff, found an accent chair for our living room (the conclusion of a 3-year search), finally returned a garbage disposal and replaced it with a series of banister posts I've been needing to replace for a long time, and helped my little girl learn to ride without training wheels.
One thing we failed to do, though not for lack of trying, is to find nursery furniture. Our budget doesn't allow for the sets we really like, but our tastes are simple enough that we've found some more that we'll be happy with nonetheless.
So, all these things have come to a head this weekend, but without fights. In fact, it has reminded me of some of the very things of which I've needed to be reminded.
Comfort: in the midst of a series of struggles and discouragements of my own, I've had to comfort my bride and daughter for the past few weeks. My daughter has had some issues with dysomnia (sleep difficulties), as well as struggling with not being the only child anymore. Therefore, her mother and I have had to take extra precautions in reassuring her that we were not going to be sharing our love for her with her brother, and we've made it a point to do some of the things she likes. She's also been going through some hormonal adjustments and has been emotionally sensitive. In some ways she's reverting back to her desires from when she was younger, but in others she's trying to grow up and act mature. All of this has taken effort to comfort her. Last night as she was learning to ride her bike without training wheels, there were plenty of times for comfort, but there was also the need for...
Challenge: As much as my daughter cried about wanting to quit and try later, and as much as she complained about how hard it was, SHE had been the one to ask if I could teach her to ride her bike. Several times over the course of an hour we would stand in the middle of our street debating. She said she didn't want to ride until she knew how, and I told her she had to do this to learn to ride. As we did loops down to the cul-de-sac, I would hold her upper arm and eventually my grip became looser until I was barely touching her. My greatest joy came when she said, "Let go." I ran alongside her so she knew I was there and could hold her at any moment, and I did. Once, however, she ran off into the gutter and crashed in the grass. As she got up crying, I didn't go to her. I stood a few feet away and asked what happened. I was tempted to help her up and let her rest, but I knew if I did that, she would give up. Again. After a minute I told her to pick up her bike and bring it to me, at our starting point. My bride was sitting in the driveway watching us and I was so proud to see her remain silent. And so my little girl tried again and again. When it was almost time to go in, we rode (I ran) to the cul-de-sac and as she was turning around, her low pedal hit the ground and she fell again, scraping her elbow lightly. I told her this was her chance to show everyone that she could ride her bike. She whined, inspected her elbow and hands, and got back on the bike. Again she said, "Let go."
Compromise: The weekend was loaded with compromises. Friday I was off work, but tired and knew there were things that needed to be done, so I did some of them, and my daughter did some of her part, but I allowed for the long weekend and we held off on some until Saturday and Sunday. Also, I cut one of my workouts short to take care of my daughter, helping my bride out, cut part of the yard, bought some of my necessary tools for a job, and got some of my work done. But we spent time together. That's what we needed more than anything: one last time together before school started.
Each of our lives, fellow groom, is going to be filled with opportunity for comfort, challenge, and compromise. The key is using them in the proper proportions at the appropriate time. If I had only offered comfort to my daughter when she fell from her bike, another year would pass without her knowing how to ride. If had offered myself comfort on my virgin voyage of replacing a series of banister rails, I would talk myself out of it again. That's a challenge I need to face. If I hadn't compromised on my workout or tool purchases or nursery registry, my wife would easily be able to hold my selfishness against me. I just heard of a few friends running a race this weekend that I decided not to run, as much as I wanted to. And I've canceled two other races before the season ends next month. I've only run 1 tri, a half-marathon, and a 5k this year. Pathetic. But it's what has to be done right now, and it's helping my bride have more confidence in my love for her. It makes it easier for me to tell her what I'd like to do, and for her to say yes.
Guys, if we offer challenge when we need to offer comfort, we force division and mistrust. If we offer comfort when we need to offer challenge, we stunt growth and zap confidence and opportunity. If we don't compromise on issues where we can afford to compromise, we unjustly push others into a corner where they are forced to defend themselves. Let's weigh these out, gentlemen, and look at every event as an opportunity to appropriately offer comfort, challenge, or compromise, and to draw our families closer together.
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