January 29, 2013

There is a certain appreciation for those sweet life lessons learned by accident. It never ceases to amaze me the circumstances under which children learn to hone their primitive rationalization skills. And with four exceptionally inquisitive children expanding the bounds of their gray matter simultaneously, I can’t help but wonder how I don’t already have gray hair.

Today, Finnley demonstrated that he has reached the age of reason in the stickiest way he could think of.

He decided to make himself some cocoa, a seemingly simple undertaking, but if you’ve ever spent time with a five-year-old, you probably can agree that nothing about liquids and a quart of chocolate sounds disarming. In fact, I only knew because he came and asked me for a dish rag to clean up the mess he made.

I greatly appreciated that gesture, at least, considering that it is not unusual for my very independent offspring to try to resolve miniature disasters themselves, generally resulting in catastrophic consequences that would grate the last nerve of even the patron saint of patience.

As we sponged up the trails of chocolatey sludge together, he explained to me that it was an accident,  which meant, of course, that he didn’t do it. (Very prophetically) “Accidents just happen, and no one knows why, Mommy.”

Upon further investigation, I noticed he used a butter knife to mix his soupy cocoa concoction. I asked why he chose a butter knife to scoop the cocoa mix, and he explained that’s probably why the ‘accident’ occurred. Never mind that I have no idea how he managed to get that much cocoa into his monkey tumbler and on the surrounding counter, the floor, and himself… in such a short amount of time, with a completely flat utensil.

He responded, “Well, there were no more spoons in the drawer, and I thought… hey, this knife looks more like a spoon… and mommy, (with the most serious expression) I’m pretty sure all the chocolate would go right through these little holes in the fork.”

It’s hard to argue with sound deductive reasoning.

I stop in these situations before I impulsively react to my children’s mistakes and think back to my childhood—the times I did what was right, to the best of my knowledge, and with what skills I had. I consider the mistakes I made due to not knowing better and what lessons I took from those experiences. I consider how those mistakes shaped who I am and how I made future decisions.

We all make mistakes, and accidents happen. Part of knowing what to do is understanding what not to do. It helps to remember we learn from accidents just as much as, if not more than, from getting it right the first time.

Today, we learned that you can dissolve a LOT of cocoa in 6oz of milk, among other things. 😉