Learning the Lessons We Teach Our Children

My youngest child has the power to bring me to my knees with one whiny proclamation: “I can’t do it!”

You can do it!

This is usually followed by a stomp of the foot, a defensive crossing of the arms, and a pouty, ”humph” that sets my pulse pounding and my teeth gritting.

“Don’t say, ‘can’t’,” I fire back. “Try harder!”

I remember teaching this to my oldest child too, right along with ”Don’t give up” and ”Don’t bite your friends.” Over the course of the last 18 years, he has shown me on countless occasions that he has learned those lessons, and as frustrating as it is to hear the word “can’t” from a preschooler again, I’m pretty sure the almost-five-year-old will learn them too.

Now, however, I am wondering if I have followed my own advice. After a particularly insulting incident, I found myself fantasizing about the end of this current conflict. In my anger-fueled fantasy I lay out all the reasons I have been wronged and proclaim, ”I am raising my daughter to be a strong, independent woman who lives up to her potential, and I will not accept anything less for myself!” I turn from the room, slam the door and am greeted on the other side by the thunderous applause of everyone I have ever known and worked with.

But the question that haunts me now that I have come back to reality is have I really learned those lessons, and can I be the example I intend to be for my daughter? This realization calls for a refresher course on life’s earliest lessons.

1. Don’t Say Can’t – The reason “can’t” falls so easily from the Young Ones’ lips is because it so much easier than the alternative. To the not-quite-five demographic, hearing the words “you can do anything you want to do and be anything you want to be” are words of magic. The theory of just say you want it, and it will be yours is a lie. To get “it” or be “it” or do “it” requires hard work, so don’t say “can’t”; say “I will try harder.” If you can’t make the pedals on the bike move forward, push harder. Can’t form the letters of your name exactly right? Practice more. Can’t get people to attend your meetings? Give them an agenda, so they don’t think you were just playing with the schedule meeting function in the email system.

2. Don’t Be a Quitter – This is really “Don’t Say Can’t Part II”. A friend recently shared a meme on Facebook (those funny/inspiring/politically charged pictures meant to be liked and shared  by every user of every social network on the world wide web) that showed a woman’s chiseled six-pack abs and the words, “Remember the girl who quit?…Nobody else does either.” I was sucked into the viral frenzy. Not only did I “like” it, I shared it with the rest of my friends, printed it and hung it on the whiteboard in my office. Quitting is admitting you can’t, and since you are not allowed to say “can’t” (see #1), it is impossible to quit. Quitting empowers those who strive to make us lesser than we intend for ourselves to be. Why empower someone else, when we should be empowering ourselves?

3. Learn to Make Friends – In preschool, making friends is easy. If you are willing to share your toys and don’t bite the other kids, you can have a posse equal to that of the hottest celebrities. It gets harder as we get older, and in the business world, we don’t so much “make friends” as we “network”. When I’m in need of anything work-related, I immediately scroll through my mental Rolodex of business associates, peers and mentors, looking for the ones with the greatest potential to help and advise me…and give a great reference should one be needed.

4. Do What I Tell You – This is the cause for most rebellion in children, but it is a necessary lesson because as those children enter the work force, if they don’t do what they are told in a manner that is expected of them, they will most likely be fired. However, in most cases, doing what you are told is not enough. You must do more and do it at a higher level than your peers. This is how you get promoted and how you ultimately achieve the fifth and most important of all life lessons….

5. DEMAND RESPECT – You have worked hard, never quit, networked with important people and achieved great results. NEVER let anyone take that away from you. Setbacks happen. Bosses change. Expectations are re-set. When this happens, go back to the beginning. Try harder. Never give up. Call on your friends for support and your mentors for advice. Then do what needs to be done…for you. Don’t let someone tell you you are less than who you are. Tell them who you are and why their disrespect is misplaced. Don’t whisper it. Say it loud for everyone to hear. You are a strong, independent woman who lives up to her potential, and you demand no less than RESPECT.

I will demand respect from those I work with, those I live with and those I love. I cannot accept less because that is not who I am, and that is not who I want my daughter to be.

Teach your children well…,and follow your own advice.

Stiletto Momma

Thy Boodle Runneth Over

I am responsible for the bounty of boodle that has taken over my oldest child’s barracks room.

This is why we send boodle.

I first learned of “boodle” and the joy it can bring to both mother and child last summer while that oldest child of mine was being yelled at and put through his paces during Cadet Basic Training. In West Point circles, CBT is affectionately referred to as “Beast Barracks”, or simply, ”Beast”. In West Point Mom circles, it is known as “the dark time when I knew someone was being mean to my baby, but I couldn’t do anything about it.”

During that dark time, I was introduced to an amazing group of women dedicated to supporting each other during the 47-month roller coaster ride of life as a West Point Mom. Through the wonder of Facebook, the veteran moms of West Point scooped the new West Point moms into a warm embrace and told us we would be okay. Our children would ”slay the Beast”, and with their help, we would most certainly become fluent in military jargon.

When one exuberant mom posted that she was buying boodle to send to her son, my first reaction was to blush at the slightly illicit sound of the term. Surely, this is not something meant to be shared between a mother and her son.  As other moms chimed in at the remarkably soothing effects of boodle and the almost immediate rush of endorphins upon giving and receiving, I began to wonder if what they were doing was legal.

I was intrigued, but I was uncertain if my own heart-felt posts through social media had earned me enough trust among these women to be granted the knowledge of this well-guarded secret.  I sat back and waited for someone else to ask the questions I was too intimidated to type…

”What is boodle, and how do I get some?”

As I waited, I typed “boodle” into Wikipedia only to find out that boodle is not some type of highly addictive drug. In the mid-1880s, it was a form of government bribery.  Were these moms I respected so highly really encouraging their children to bribe their way through the U.S. Military Academy?

I didn’t believe it, so back I went to Facebook in search of more clues. The newest additions to the thread created a user’s guide to procuring and packing boodle.

“The best place to find boodle is at Wal-Mart.”

“The post office is the only place to get your supplies.”

“Use a FoodSaver to keep it fresh.”

“Send extra boodle for sharing if you can.”

“Don’t forget the bubble wrap!”

Then finally…the recipe! “Just fill it with love, moms!”

LOVE! That’s what boodle is! West Point Moms send their children love in U.S. Postal Service flat rate boxes!

The making of boodle. See the love?

“Boodle”, as defined by West Point Moms on Facebook, is a loving reminder that someone at home is thinking of you and wants to bring a smile to your face.  It is fresh baked cookies, jars of peanuts, sweet smelling shampoo, a picture of the family dog, a card filled with words of encouragement, a silly trinket from the dollar store meant to spark a funny memory shared between a mother and her child.

Now eight months later, I am an expert at assembling boodle. So much so that during Plebe Parent Weekend last month, I was astounded by the sight of my cadet’s boodle box sitting in its place of honor above his desk.

Like all parents that weekend, I was granted the opportunity to walk inside my cadet’s room to see where he spends his time outside of the classroom. I wanted to see everything–where he hung his uniforms, where he kept his socks, and of course, how he stored his boodle.

The bulging boodle box!

He smiled when he pulled the plastic bin from the shelf, but we all braced ourselves when he unsnapped the lid. I could tell even before he pulled the top back that this might end in disaster. The sides of the container were bulging, and the lid was bowed in the middle. The boodle had exceeded the boundaries of its box and threatened to burst into a mushroom cloud of goldfish, peanuts and beef jerky.

Yes, I supply my son with boodle. The physical contents are usually my secret recipe pretzels, cookies that can be shared with his roommates and pictures drawn by his little sister. I don’t stop filling the box until I have stuffed every empty space of each package with all the love I have stored up in his absence.

His boodle runneth over…as does my love for a young man hundreds of miles away sinking his teeth into a taste from home.

Stiletto Momma