A Lesson on Quitting

Recently someone told me that I needed to be less involved; less involved at the elementary school, with the kid’s sports, and with their homework.

I really didn’t know how to process that information.

The conversation started because I was lamenting over the fact that I wasn’t involved at the high school and I felt like I was clueless as to what they were doing over there. I wanted to be involved so I could have my finger on the pulse of the school, so to speak. She said “It’s just better to stay out of things and let the kids do what they will.”

I know that she wasn’t implying that I shouldn’t parent my children, but rather to stop being “over involved.”
I look at my high school student’s grades almost daily. I look at their grades to show interest in their schooling and what they are learning.

I email with my elementary students teachers and I have my face in that school constantly.

I go to parent/teacher conference at the Elementary school, the Junior High and the High School. Not because my kids are failing or bad students, but I go because I want the teachers to know that I am involved in their education. I care about what happens to them and how they are being educated.

To be “less involved” to me feels like I am showing less of a commitment to my children. I don’t do all of these activities for me—they are for my children.

I serve on the committees at their school because it directly affects the treatment that they receive from the staff. It shouldn’t be that way, but it is. When parents that are involved in the school go to the school with a problem it is handled much differently than those who are not involved. I’ve seen it happen. The staff takes more seriously the parents who are involved.

So to my friend who told me to be less involved I had to tell her No. That isn’t an option for me, or my family.

Yea, 7:30am choir twice a week with a two year old is hard. I have to get everyone up at 6:30 and out the door by 7:15 to be on time. It’s a pain. But I do it because it puts my face in the school. That’s more important to me than an extra hour of sleep. Or the convenience of just “letting the chips fall where they may.”

This same friend over heard Thing 1 moaning about the amount of homework she had to do and the fact that her classes were so hard. This friend looked at her and said: “There is no shame in quitting. Just drop those classes and get into something more fun.”

I was stunned because I have been encouraging her to keep trying. Do your best—YOU CAN DO HARD THINGS! That has been my on going mantra with her. I want her to know that, and understand that fact. She has it in her to do hard things.

Isn’t that really what life is all about? Being able to do hard things?

If she can learn this lesson now—at 15—she will be miles ahead of where I am.
 
Life isn’t always a party. Life is hard and sometimes you have to do the hard things—and that’s OK.
Thing 1 just looked at her and said “I love these classes, they’re just hard. I’m not quitting because I’m not a quitter.”

Me either.

I’m not quitting the committees or the choir or the amount of effort I put into their schooling or even being the Warden of the F Zone—because I’m not a quitter and I can do hard things.