This seems like kind of a stupid topic. I mean, everybody loves the weekend. Don’t some of us live for it? No school, no work. Time to sleep in, get some rest, maybe catch a ball game or a movie, spend time with your kids, go on a date with your spouse, clean out the garage, whatever! All the things you want to do during the week but don’t have time for.
I love all that stuff, but the best part for me is not having to get mad at or frustrated with Maddie. I’m sure I’ve said this before, but she’s a really lovely person. She’s happy, fun, optimistic, engaging, and sweet. There is none of the typical teenage angst so many of my friends talk about these days. No drama for the sake of drama, no slamming doors, no “I hate you, Mom!”
The hard part with Maddie is getting her to do something she doesn’t want to do. That’s really the most pressing problem with her. What I dislike most about weekdays is the proportion of time I spend in conflict with her. I don’t want arguing over what she’s supposed to be doing–and her refusing to do it–to be the primary way in which we relate to each other.
So on the weekends, I just let her be for the most part. There might be homework and most certainly a shower, and I might have to fight her over those, but at least the sense of urgency isn’t there as long as we don’t wait until Sunday night to address them. Then she’s happy as can be, and so am I. It is so relaxing to wake up in the morning without dread about the day to come.
A few years ago, my son had been talking for some time about making a trip to Washington, DC. I don’t know why an eight-year-old boy would choose a historical, educational sight-seeing trip for a vacation spot, but he did. And this wasn’t a trip that Maddie would have found remotely interesting. A whole lot of walking around museums and historical sights, forget it! She likes Disneyland.
So we decided to split up for spring break. The guys went to DC and Maddie and I went to Disneyland for what ended up being some of the best five days of my life.
We had five days with no agenda except for whatever Maddie wanted to do. I didn’t care what time we got up, how long we spent in the park, what time we came back, which rides we went on and how many times. And with no other kid involved, there really was no negotiation of any kind required. It was all about Maddie. And it was GREAT. I got to enjoy all the wonderful aspects of my child without a single issue. Not one.
And one of the wonderful aspects of Maddie is she knows how to have a good time. It’s kind of hard not to have a good time at Disneyland, but there she is in her element.
We went to Disneyland a number of times when the kids were little. The last time we all went as a family, the kids were six and eight and it was kind of a disaster. It was February, and it was cold and pouring down rain, for one thing. It’s never cold and rainy in Southern California, is it? Well, it was. Just for that week.
And our son had the flu.
And, it turns out, he really doesn’t like rides. When he was really young and only able to go on the kiddie rides, it was great. But then he got to the age where the kiddie rides are lame and anything else is too scary. So amusement parks are out.
Back then we would stay in the Grand Californian, a bit of a splurge but the perfect place to stay when nap times are required because it’s actually connected to California Adventure Park. But this time, with just two of us, when I went to make the reservation, the cost seemed unjustified, so I settled on a nearby hotel called the Candy Cane Inn. It’s charming but very plain. Clean and uncluttered. No frills but perfectly comfortable.
And naturally, they have bowls of candy canes sitting around for their patrons. Those tiny ones that come in a long strip, all held together by the packaging. Maddie decided she ought to share them with the other kids at Disneyland, so the first morning she loaded up her pockets with tiny candy canes, and we headed to the park.
People are funny. There was Maddie, an 11-year-old girl in goofy clothes and glasses, offering candy canes to random kids she saw. She would bend down to their level, reach into her pocket, and sweetly offer the candy. The kids were mostly excited, and some parents were grateful if not a bit confused, but others looked suspicious and walked away. Maddie’s spirit was undeterred. She found so much joy in handing out the candy canes she’d swiped from the hotel lobby. And in the spirit of the trip, I just let her do it. I just stood back and watched my wonderful kid being her wonderful self without restriction.
We also enjoyed a lot of churros. Disneyland has the best churros.
And so, this weekend, a three-day one this time, I am content to let my kid be her awesome kid self. She can make duct tape swords, or work on her Halloween costume, or watch anime, or play Minecraft, or whatever. It would probably serve her well if I made her do some chores or something. I might ask her to unload the dishwasher later. She doesn’t mind that too much. But for now I am going to enjoy the days when I don’t have to freak out in the morning over a late rise, or a refusal to get up, or, if I’m really lucky, the mad dash to meet the cab.
I hug her a lot and tell her how awesome she is. I throw that word awesome around pretty loosely, having grown up in the 80s and gone to college among a lot of surfers, but “awesome” really fits here. She does inspire awe with her optimistic and generous spirit and her good nature. Everyone should be so lucky to know, and be in awe of, somebody like Maddie.
The Year of Living Hopefully 