who's training whom?

There is lots of training happening in around here. Well, lots of instruction, lots of coaching, and lots of guidance - it’s the results that are debatable.

Boy #4 is potty training. (Need I say more?)

Boy #3 started swimming lessons for the first time - learning how to put his face in the water, splash the teacher and take forever getting his clothes back on while in the boys locker room so Mom can’t come in and hurry things up.

Boy #2 is in soccer - training to be the next David Beckham, except that for some reason he can’t keep his shoes tied.

After begging long and hard enough, Boy #1 is finally taking guitar lessons, hoping to emulate tobymac. He’s learning a few chords, but most importantly (and most difficult for him) he has to learn to play right-handed, training to be ambidextrous.

Hubby has been training for some time - plumbing, electrical, framing, farming and how to be a stay-at-home dad for a few days a week. Most of his training is going quite well - by the time the addition is done he will be a true jack-of-all-trades, but I doubt he’ll have figured out the laundry.

My never-ending painting job appears to be nearing completion and after some great on-the-job training I now officially have a favorite brand of paint. I’m looking into more training - courses in faux finishing to boost the old resume and pocketbook.

I am also considering gun safety - we have a serious rabbit problem in my flower bed and I’d like nothing more than to rid myself of pests and give the kittens something to eat since there are very few leftovers left over around here.

But perhaps the biggest source of training for hubby and me is what’s thrown at us every day - how to be parents. How to maintain calm in spite of spilled water, sour milk in breakfast cereal, cats refusing to exit the garage, disappearing socks, fighting children and millions of mosquitoes.

The proverb of the wise one tells us that we should train up a child in the way he should go. The trouble is I wonder sometimes who’s training whom.

For instance, we figure out boy #1 and the next ones come with completely different manuals. By the time we’re done with this parenthood thing, we’ll have four books on discipline, praise, food likes and sock preferences (crew, sock less, anklets and knee-high). We do crazy things like buying a non-working go cart at a garage sale because it would be a good project to work on with the boys, not quite realizing that 1) it will be us that does all the work and 2) the boys will get bored with it after two hours and $200 worth of parts.

The boys are acing their lessons on how to be and act like boys. This includes getting dirty, learning to fight, playing with toads and conning Dad into buying things like go carts that don’t run. We on the other hand, are not doing quite as well. We lose our tempers at wet beds, fly off the handle over broken toys and play right into the “Go ask your Mom/Dad” game that never ends in our favor.

While we might appear to know what we’re doing, now you know the truth - we are faking it just like everyone else. Or making it up as we go along. (Which inevitably leads to forgetting what rules you made for what behavior. Is it soap for sassiness and time outs for teasing? Is it cleaning the toilet for fighting or was that just a chore?)

Thankfully, I don’t think anyone is expecting perfection - daily we fail and daily we do some good things. We’re just hoping that in the end we’re the ones training rather than the ones being trained.

Some days I wonder though...