I Can Be Your Hero Baby

As most parents do, I have always wanted my children to have positive role models in their life. It is the very essence of raising children, to have adults accessible that positively influence your children. It takes a village, so they say.

I feel that we as a family unit have been very lucky in this area. My son started taking Tae Kwon Do at 7 years old.  His Tae Kwon Do instructors are fantastic role models for him.  They are a husband and wife team.  She is in a wheelchair after being in a devastating car accident about 10 years ago. They are both amazing, personifying the true meaning of a teacher: patient, loving, kind, yet firm.  They hold themselves and their students accountable for their actions.  They motivate and inspire.  My son has earned a second degree black belt under their guidance. This is just one of many examples of how fortunate we have been to have the people in our life that we do.

I look forward to open houses at school. I do, because, being a working mother at this stage of the game, I like to see and feel and touch the everyday ‘stuff’ in my kids' lives.  It is the perfect opportunity for my children to gush about their desk and its contents (there is just SOMETHING about a pencil box that is super full!), their projects, their friends, their interests and on and on.

It was the first open house of the school year when my son was in 6^th grade.  I entered the 6^th grade wing eager to see what he and the rest of his classmates had been up to, instead of just hearing about it. My son attended the open house with me, and ran ahead of me, to mingle with his friends in the classroom.  As I started down the hallway, with artwork splashing every color of the rainbow all over the walls, I slowly took notice of each masterpiece.  The students had all created “Hero Pages”.  These were large projects that resembled the format of the front page of the daily newspaper with a space for a headline, a space for a picture, and a space for a story.  The topic was “Who Is Your Hero?”

I read each one.  The subjects of each were touching: Parents, Grandparents, Coaches, Fellow Classmates who had battled deadly disease, Martin Luther King Jr., etc.

My son’s project was third from the last on this long hallway.  By the time I reached it, I had already had a couple of misty moments reading the others. I was eager to find my child’s project so that my eyes could well up with pride over his choice.

The title of my son’s Hero Page was “the Homeworkenator.” “The Homeworkenator is my hero because he saves me and all my friends by destroying all homework so that we never have to do it….”…WAIT…STOP.  Let me get this straight: My child’s hero is a fictional character, who eerily resembles a white Sponge Bob Square Pants, whose heroic ability is stunting the learning of all children in the land by eliminating homework. Suddenly, I was slightly embarrassed. Honestly, it stung for a moment.

“Great” I uttered out loud, sarcastically.

Just then I was greeted by his teacher who had seen and graded this project as a B+.  I managed to look her in the eye and listen to all of the wonderful things she had to say about my son.  I pulled it together and happily took part in the open house, with a small part of me being disappointed.

My first instinct, once back in the car, was to pelt my son with verbal softballs over the choice of his hero.  Instead, I opted for commenting on how I appreciated his sense of humor and imagination. Yeah, right.  I didn’t. Not at that time. I stewed over it for a couple of days thereafter. My husband thought the Homeworkenator was hysterical.

Today, as he has been for many years, my son is witty, imaginative and creative.  Occasionally, the report I get back from teachers is that he has ‘class clown’ tendencies. I’ll take it. Some of my favorite people are the ones that make me laugh the hardest.  I should have recognized this at the time of that open house, shrugged it off and just taken it with a grain of salt.  I am glad I opted not to pitch the verbal softballs, as holding my tongue was the best choice I made that day.

As parents, we always take it the hardest when our children fall short in our eyes.  What I try to do every day is remind myself that all children are unique and their view of the world should be held in high regard.  It’s THEIR view.  Not mine. I can only continue to be a force in my kids' lives that loves them, respects them and teaches them right from wrong, and by holding them responsible when they mess up.

My hope is that all I do as a parent is enough, so that someday, they will be lucky enough to be somebody else’s hero.  Right now, they are certainly mine.