Kintropy In Action

My parents once arranged for our entire family to go to a Family Encounter weekend.  The overall goal, I think, was to teach us communication and conflict resolution tools:  or, as I saw it, Ways to Argue Successfully With The Appearance of Sensitivity.  A sampling:

• No Garbarge Dumping - during an argument, you can't bring up anything that happened over 24 hours ago (translation:  disadvantage to those with long memories; advantage to speakers that think well on their feet)
• Always talk about how things make you feel; don't pass judgements (translation:  talk-the-talk by coating your personal digs in syrupy, touchy-feely language)

Needless to say, I didn't have the most productive outlook.  The whole Play Therapist game seemed a charade to me.  We communicated well as a family, I thought.  Occassionally, the pitcher of water was dumped on someone's head or drapes got yanked during a congenial sibbling brawl, but most of the arguments were much less dramatic.  Plus I won a large share of them.  That made me happy.

One memory that did stick with me, however, was the Weekend's theme song:   Harry Chapin's "Cats In The Cradle."  If you haven't heard it, the song revolves around a father-son relationship.  The kid asks for dad's time; dad puts him off because of work, etc..  When the kid grows up, dad asks for the kid's time.  But the kid is now too busy with a life of his own.  Very sad and poignant, the song was targeted at Dads that might be missing the share-your-feelings Weekend vibe.

At the time, I thought the repetitive use of the song was so over-the-top that it became a running joke to sing it to my Dad for weeks after the Weekend.  Now, I'm not so sure.  The last few weeks, Gabriel has gotten less and less of my time.  Hannah has had some, particularly during the frequent hosptial visits, but not a lot of hang-out time.  Visions of the Cats In The Cradle dad seemed not so distant this weekend, particularly after I cancelled some Sunday out-and-about plans and turned down Gabriel's request to go bicycling outside.

So last night, we went for a family walk down to the local Plaid Pantry.  Not particularly healthy, considering the ice cream sandwich I bought for Gabriel and Mom's Jelly Bellies, but it was nice to get out together without all the hustle and bustle of a full Family Event.

 
Tonight, we all played in the family room together, too.  Hannah and I had some cuddle and singing time (though not enough, I'm sure, according to her).  Gabriel and I pretended we were Tickle Ambulances.  We kept bouncing between his room and the family room, asking if anyone had called the Tickle Ambulances, and quickly evaluating Mom and Hannah as patients.

All in all, it was a good night.  Not sure we exorcised Harry Chapin's ghost tonight, but I think we put if off a bit.  Judging by the banging on the wall next to me and the chattering coming from Hannah's room, the Cats aren't quite in the Cradle yet.  I'll see if I can attend to that now. 

-- Dad