The Curse of the Silly Bands

For the past six months or so the craze de jure in our neck of the woods has been silly bands.  These are little plastic bracelets that come in an endless variety of shapes (animals, vehicles, faces) and colors.  The fact that when the silly bands are on your arm you can't tell what shape they are is meaningless to kids, many of whom have gone silly for silly bands (sorry, I couldn't resist).  I have seen kid's entire forearms covered with these things.  At a junior high camp this summer I saw girl waiting for the camp nurse.  She had a numbing sensation in her hands and wanted the nurse to tell her what was wrong.  The nurse noticed that this girl's arm was full of silly bands that were cutting into her circulation.  The girl removed the bands, fascinated by the deep groves they left in her skin, and amazed that she could feel her hands again.  It was a miracle!  Such, my friends, is the power of silly bands.
Naturally, my younger kids wanted silly bands.  Truth be told they laid pretty low about silly bands until this past spring.  Then it started - "Everybody has them,"  "But, they are so cool," and my personal favorite from my 2nd grade son, "If I get some then everybody will stop laughing at me."  Right.  I responded, "Dude, if they are laughing at you for not having silly bands then they will laugh at you even if you have them."  My son got one of those cow at a passing train looks on his face.  We headed off to the store to buy some silly bands.
Now, lest you think my wife and I were caving to peer pressure we were very clear with our children - we would buy one package of silly bands.  Just one.  And the two of them had to share the silly bands.  This was a devious plan.  When I was a kid ( I have three siblings) buying one of anything and then expecting all four of us to share it was the kiss of death.  No one was going to be happy and I was banking that my children would feel the same way.  Rather than share the silly bands I was certain they would opt just not to bother and the silly band craze would leave our house in peace.  Like most evil parenting schemes this one failed.  Miserably.  So we began the quest for silly bands.
Store number one - no silly bands.  Store number two - we just sold out.  Store number three - a shipment is due in next week.  By now I am picking up the rancid odor of a scam.  Toy merchants are notorious for hyping a product and then not putting enough of it on the shelves.  Remember Cabbage Patch kids?  People fought over these things, I mean drew blood.  A few years later you could find them at any dollar store.  I start to get the feeling that if we find silly bands they are going to cost us a fortune.  So I try another sure to fail parenting trick - I tell my kids that we can't find any and maybe we should just go home.  A brilliant idea, except my kids are well aware that we have not even begun to exhaust all of the potential silly band outlets.  I really start to dislike silly bands.
By store number four we are not even leaving the vehicle.  My wife makes a recon mission into the retailer.  I am so sure that she will not find them I park on the curb and keep the car running.  So, of course, they have them.  My kids freak.  I am not sure what I feel - relief that we have found silly bands or nausea over what they will cost.  A pack of 24 silly bands sets us back $4.99.  Seems like a lot to me, but not to my children.  Going to school sporting silly bands is priceless.
We go home and I play ref while my son and daughter divide up their spoils.  The next day my son heads off to school proudly wearing dragon themed silly bands.  My daughter is not so lucky.  Her Kindergarten teacher outlawed silly bands in the classroom months ago.  Still, she is content to wear them at home.   That afternoon I pick them up from school.  My son, who started the day with a dozen dragon silly bands now has 9, only one of which is a dragon.  When I ask him what happened he tells me that the kids always trade silly bands.  OK, but why did he have three fewer than before?  Without missing a beat he tells me that some kids just asked if they could have some and so he gave them to them.  Hmmmm.  The next day we are down to five silly bands.  Why?  Well, one kid in class did not have any so my son gave him some.  The following day there are three silly bands on his wrist.  One kid was moving away and my son wanted to give him something to help remember his friends.
My first reaction should have been overwhelming pride.  Here was my boy, the son of not one but two ordained ministers, freely sharing with others.  That is what we taught him to do.  Instead the first thought that cropped into my head was that he was getting ripped off by the other kids.  The second notion was to tell him to stop giving them away because we had just bought the stupid things.  Then it dawned on me - these silly bands were a curse.  Not to my son, but to me.  They were exposing all sorts of contradictions and hypocrisy in my life.  And then I really, really hated silly bands.
There are people in this world who take advantage of others.  I am afraid that my son, with his generous spirit, is going to be an easy target for such thieves.  Yet, I don't want my children living in fear, especially fear of losing stuff.  Somehow I am going to have to teach him to be wise and generous.  Or should it be generous and wise?  Which is more important?  My head tells me wisdom, my heart tells me generosity.  Hopefully he will have both in equal measure.  If not, then I pray that he will never be afraid to be generous.  That to me seems to be the character and nature of God.
I am also aware that my son has taught me a thing or two about generosity.  In his own way he helped strip off layers of mistrust and selfishness that I was not even aware had been accumulating on my spirit.  He guided me back to a place where sharing is more important than possessing.  I am grateful for that.  And I hope to never see another silly band again as long as I live.

Lessons From Kindergarten #4

Things I Learned in Kindergarten...well, actually the title should be "Things I Learned While Working in My Daughter's Kindergarten Class on Friday Afternoons," but honestly, that really doesn't roll off the tongue does it?

Jesus was big on children and believed that they had some special insights about faith. Overlooking the fact that Jesus did not have kids, and thus was spared changing dirty diapers and dealing with a two year old who have just learned the word "no," let assume he was right. I have put my keen intellect to the task and come up with several "insights" about faith that I discovered while working in my daughter's Kindergarten class. Here we go:

#4 There Are Some Things You Just Gotta Tell the Teacher About

I mentioned in an earlier blog that there is a general routine in my daughter's class. The most consistent part of that routine takes place shortly after the kids arrive. They all go over to a carpeted area, try their best to sit on their bottoms and go through a series of activities. These include singing songs about the days of the week and what the weather is like outside. Heck, they even have a little ditty about money (quarters, dimes, nickels and pennies...as if pennies are really worth anything nowadays). Then the teacher reads them two or three books. It is by far the most predictable part of the day. I love it, in part because I get to sit in one of those tiny little chairs and watch how the kids interact with each other and to the story. I would love it more if my daughter would stop sitting with her back towards me so I can't see what she is doing. I can't prove that she is stonewalling me on purpose, but knowing this kid, its all premeditated. Oh, she knows what she is doing, alright!

My absolute favorite part of what I call "Carpet Time" comes towards the end. The teacher looks out at the kids, most of whom have their hands so far up in the air that I swear they are going to pull something, and calls on five. Just five. Its a real bummer if you are number six, but hey there is always Monday's "Carpet Time." The five don't have to answer any questions. They are free to share whatever is on their minds, hearts, or sleeves. When this sharing time comes some of the kids look like they are about to burst. They just have to tell the teacher that they are going to Grandma's for a sleepover, or that it is their brother's birthday, or that their dog peed on the carpet yesterday. The highlight was the kid who told the teacher they had thrown-up three times the night before, obviously forgetting that Mommy and/or Daddy told them to lay low about the puke-a-thon since they were not supposed to be in school. Poor kid was sent to the nurse's office so fast they had no idea what was happening to them.

What is so impressive about this is not just that the teacher listens to the kids (and she does) but that she has makes the time/space for them to share. She understands that kids need to tell someone about what is going in their world. Now, I may not see what is so important about Fido relieving himself on the Living Room carpet, but it mattered to the child. Adults are no different than kids in this respect. We all need safe space where we can unload the stuff we are carrying around.

This what makes community so important. Sure, anyone can believe in God. But if faith is something we do by ourselves then we miss out on the gift of community. True Christian community is safe space where we can bring all of our joys and sorrows and know that there are people who want to listen. And the best part... if you are number six you still get to share!