Dinner Conversation

When I was at a little lunch with friends in Michigan, a friend told me she always did "Best and Worst" at the dinner table with her husband and kids--each family member would share the best thing that happened that day and the worst. It was a great way to connect, and find out what's really going on in her family's lives. So, we've implemented this practice. Some nights it works better than others, but tonight we delved a little, and everyone had something to share.

Elyse's "best" (sometimes confused with worst, and often happened months ago): going on an airplane with Daddy. No worst.

Then we all got stuck in Evie's worst (can't remember the best): She was playing tag, tripped over a little boy's backpack, fell in the rocks (where she skinned her hand), and then no one came and comforted her. Everyone always comes and comforts someone when they get hurt on the playground. No one put their hand on her shoulder, and so no one likes her. So we dig a little deeper: only Hannah is nice to her all the time. She prefers to play with older kids because they are nice. The "little kids"--her peers, who are really older than she is--are mean all the time.

I get a pit in my stomach. Suddenly I am in elementary school all over again, bewildered at the sudden winds of change between nice and mean of playground kids everywhere. I couldn't navigate it then; how on earth can I counsel my daughter how to navigate it now? I think I say something along the lines of, "Evie, you're always an allstar to me, and all you can do is make sure you are nice." But I know through sad experience that "nice" does not always equal friends, let alone true friends. And when I advise her to find some friends her own age, she tells me she doesn't care about how old people are, she wants to be friends with the nice kids. Who can dispute that? So, I am stumped by my 5-year-old.

And then I get to Coulson. His best was his class's rocket launch and their reading of their "This I believe" essays. They all wrote essays which they sent into NPR's segment called "This I believe." Coulson was passionate about his, and did it all on his own. He wrote about conserving water and how he wanted to grow up to be a scientist that discovered ways to preserve water. I was surprised by his theme choice. He said that he was impressed with Corey who wrote about how he believed in God and the Body of Christ. He then explained that Corey told a story that showed him that God was looking out for him. (Coulson was disappointed that he didn't actually pray in the situation, but it was good nonetheless.) I told Coulson that I admired Corey's courage to write about his faith and then said, "If you admired Corey so much, why didn't you choose to write about something like that?" Coulson said, "Mom, I believe and everything, but sometimes I think we just need to solve our own problems." Hmmm. Then I talked about how God can help us with anything, and could help us solve our problems. He knows that of course, but says that he thinks God expects us to work it out. I guess we are the ones consuming and abusing our natural resource of water; I can see why he thinks we should fix it. In the end, I don't say much.

So, yes Spence is out of the country again, but who needs adult conversation? I'm stumped by my kids.