It's Complicated

For many years now going out en masse as an extended family to a movie on Christmas evening has been traditional in our family. It's always interesting trying to find something that will appeal to everyone and compromises are always made. This year my youngest daughter and one of my more morally conservative cousins were the ones who found themselves compromising. We decided - and mostly agreed - on 'It's Complicated'. (and we didn't actually make it until the day after Christmas, but that's neither here nor there) It was a cute little flick and a big ole check in the win column for middle-aged women. Plus, Alec Baldwin is kind of like John Travolta for me - old, young, fat, trim, it's all good... (And for those of you who saw it - we're having Croque Monseur and mixed greens with a balsamic viniagrette for dinner tonight with warm chocolate croissants for dessert. I have high hopes.)

As the love lives of our heroes became more and more complex (as the title of the film implies) I thought about how all of us could probably take that title and apply it to our lives. In my case, my love life is blissfully uncomplicated - so my story would be different - but no less complicated.

My girls and I are babysitting this week. We're watching a thoroughly delightful toddler. My youngest has never spent much time around people smaller than herself. She asked, after our first day, "So - taking care of a toddler is really just about making them happy all the time, right?"

I told her that there were basically three priorities:

1. Keep them safe.
2. Make them happy.
3. Keep them happy.

Nothing complicated about that. I remembered when my own girls were that age and those were my priorities. So simple - but it didn't always feel simple. Uncomplicated doesn't always equal easy.

Keeping my girls safe and happy are still my priorities; things haven't changed that much I suppose. Just like when they were toddlers, the things I need to keep them safe from are often the things that hold the most appeal for them. Just like when they were toddlers, when I stop them from doing something potentially dangerous, I am bad and mean. Quite often - just like when they were toddlers - there are tears. (sometimes the tears are even theirs...) Sometimes - just like when they were toddlers - keeping them safe precludes making them happy in the short run.

Unlike when they were toddlers, though, I can't keep an eye on them all the time. They spend more time every year out in the big wide world where I can't keep them safe and where they're free to make their own happiness. I have to trust that I've taught them well enough to make good choices. Sometimes they show me that I have - and I am so proud in those moments. Sometimes, however, they make decisions that horrify me. Does this mean that I haven't taught them well enough? Or does there come a point where their decisions are a reflection on them alone and not on me and my parenting skills? I imagine if there is such a point, it's not yet. They are still so tangled up in me and my identity is still so tangled up in them.

Keep them safe and happy.

It's simple.

It's complicated.