It’s ok to say no

One thing I hear quite often from people shocked at how many children we have is “How on earth do you do it? I can barely manage to keep up with all the activities and such for my (fill in the blank number) kids!”

The short answer is, we don’t.

We don’t currently have any kids in organized sports, lessons, or activities. The savvy among you will point out that there are two necessary factors at work here: a) we are a one vehicle family and b) we have no income to provide extras. There’s no real option for carting this one to soccer, that one to T-ball, those two to art, and that one to piano when Daddy’s got the van on the other side of town and you can’t afford a registration fee, anyhow.

What if I told you that even before, when we had two vehicles and the expendable income, the only “extracurricular” we maintained outside of our home was a full-family commitment to AWANA?

Well, you’d probably assume that we are among those who stalwartly believe that parents who sign their kids up for organized sports are going straight to hell.

You’d be wrong.

There are valuable lessons to be learned from being part of a team, pursuing a passion, chasing a dream, or just plain running a kid ragged on a soccer field so that he sleeps well at night.

We just don’t believe that planned activities are a mandatory part and parcel of the childhood experience. We don’t believe in going into debt to put a preschooler on a soccer team because he’s 4 and he likes kicking a ball in the backyard and watching the sport on tv and that’s what you do, right? We don’t believe in rushing through our days to make it, breathless and starving, to a class for one person’s sortofmaybekindof benefit. We don’t believe in sacrificing family meals, Bible Study, worship services, down times, or sleep.

That’s what we’re against: the somehow pervasive belief that the supposed end (a “well rounded childhood experience”) justifies the means (stress, disjointed family time, financial strain, etc.) at all costs.

Guys, can we be really honest here? Your kid is not the next Pelé. Your kid is not Mozart. Your kid is probably not even Mary Lou Retton. (For the record, when I typed that, I googled to make sure I was spelling her last name correctly. The top hit was “where is mary lou retton now.” Telling, eh?) Your kid is probably making some lovely memories centered on a fun coach, some decent buddies, and some hard work. There’s nothing wrong in that. If you have the time, the money, the inclination, and the ability to keep it in perspective, that’s probably a lovely addition to your family’s culture.

But what if you’re scraping to make ends meet? Do you still sign Junior up for baseball?

What if you have younger kids who don’t relish long days at the poolside watching big sister dive? Do you rearrange life around that schedule anyhow?

What if you and your husband see each other only in the passing hours after he drags home from a job that forces him out the door early and drags him home late? Do you still sign the kids up for an intensive debate course that requires weekends of traveling?

I can’t answer that for you. No one can.

And that’s the point.

You are still a good parent even if your child has no trophies.

You are still a good parent even if your kid has never earned a patch.

You are still a good parent if your kid takes up piano at 28 instead of 5.

You are still a good parent if your kid has zero shot at a one-in-a-million gymnastics scholarship.

Chauffeuring is not a mandatory part of your job description. In this season that you’re in right now, maybe one more thing is just one too many. Maybe you rotate kids sign-ups by seasons. Maybe you have a one-at-a-time rule, Maybe you set an age limit for participation. Maybe you just say no for now. Maybe you say no forever.

That doesn’t make you horrible, or awful, or selfish, or less-than. It makes you family-centered rather than activity-centered. Last I checked, that was the whole goal of having, you know, a family.

So, if you’re like us … if you’ve had times where certain kids found themselves enjoying a Robotics team because it worked for everyone … if you’ve had a one-shot deal where that cooking class was the right fit … if you’ve had seasons where nothing was prescribed outside the home at all … don’t beat yourself up. 

Enjoy it.

Embrace it.

And know that one size doesn’t fit all. You’re not denying your child the fantastic, irreplaceable memories of life on the field. You’re giving him or her the flip side: the memories of evenings spent helping mom make lasagna, of playing UNO with the family, or of kicking a soccer ball in the street with a sibling rather than a teammate. That’s not less. That’s equal. And even in 2015, it’s still a very valid choice.