by Mark Ball
Does anyone know a subtle way to suggest to my wife, Leslie, that she needs to stop stressing about each and every detail? I thought about sneaking a copy of “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff” onto her pillow, but I’m sure she would dismiss it when she realized that the author is a man.
In Leslie’s world there is always assigned seating. Every child is wearing a matching outfit at all times. The day is scripted methodically by stringing together a bizarre series of routines from early morning to 7:35 p.m. bedtime. There is a proper place for everything, and failure to return something to its rightful place is punishable by court martial.
There isn’t a detail in our family’s day that Leslie hasn’t considered. There isn’t a plan that gets approved without first reviewing plans B and C. Our home is run with more attention to detail than some nuclear power plants.
I know she has a problem. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to show Leslie that she can relax a little bit.
And last Saturday presented the perfect opportunity.
Leslie was doing her early morning review of our family calendar. I watched as she read and then re-read the activities for the day. She turned her head slightly sideways and scanned it one more time before taking a step back to make an official pronouncement.
“We just can’t do it,” she said.
“Can’t do what?” I asked.
She explained that our two oldest children had music lessons followed by a basketball game that was happening at the same time child No. 3 and child No. 4 had swimming lessons.
“I really need to be at music lessons today, and swimming is way too complicated for you to handle,” she explained.
Too tough for me to handle? Did I just hear her correctly?
“I’ll be fine,” I responded with booming confidence. “The only reason you think this is so difficult is because you obsess about every little detail of everything.”
That may sound like a harsh response, but my teaching style is to catch people off guard to get their attention and then the wise professor works his magic. By the stunned look on her face, I could tell class was now in session.
“Just relax! You worry way too much about every little detail,” I continued. “I’ll take Sadie and Jonah to swimming and it will be a breeze. You have nothing to worry about.”
The last word wasn’t completely out of my mouth, and Leslie had already packed up the two eldest and the remaining children leaving me No. 3 and 4 and the baby.
As the door closed behind them, a brief panic started to set in.
Was she really leaving me all alone to handle this? What exactly do kids wear when they swim? Should I be packing other… I don’t know… other stuff?
Then it hit me. I was falling into Leslie’s trap. I wasn’t going to allow myself to drown in the details. I was resolved not to sweat the small stuff.
I let Sadie pick out a swimsuit while I packed Jonah’s things. I saddled up the baby and walked my two soon-to-be-swimmers to the car. When we arrived at the pool, I was greeted by a sea of swimming moms. A couple of them offered their support when they realized that I was without Leslie.
“Would you like me to help Sadie get ready?” one of the kind mothers asked. Another offered to hold the baby.
“No thanks!” I dismissed them with a nod, knowing that I was more than prepared for this moment.
I pointed Sadie in the right direction and walked Jonah into the locker room. I helped him get his suit on and then pushed him out the door toward the instructor, while taking my place within the crowd to gaze upon our precious little ducklings.
Splash…splash…splash one after the other dropped over the edge and into the pool. Jonah and Sadie joined their friends in the water. My angel Sadie, like the trained seal that she is, took off swimming all the way to the barrier and back to the edge swimming laps around many of the other newbies.
I could just feel the mob of mothers looking at me and thinking “Wow… he’s a great dad.” And I was thinking to myself, “They are so right!”
As I stood against the wall, my chest puffed out with pride, I started to craft my next teaching moment with Leslie. I’d be able to use today as an object lesson to show her just how enjoyable life can be when we don’t have to micromanage every moment, when we are freed from the details.
As I contemplated the proper tone for my dissertation (not too haughty, but still brazenly confident), Sadie grabbed the edge of the pool and pulled herself up onto the deck. The top of her suit hung about navel high and as she smiled ear to ear at me she flashed everyone seated on the bleachers. As I surveyed the scene I realized that Sadie had packed a suit that was not her size.
This was one detail that I probably shouldn’t have overlooked. As she stood there dripping and smiling, my mind was racing with how I would respond when Leslie found out. Time has taught me that Leslie always finds out. I ran to Sadie with a towel for shelter. As we walked back to the locker room I explained to her that there are some tidbits from our time together that Mommy wouldn’t need to hear about. You know, stick to the big stuff.
But at least for today, swimming lessons showed that my theory on ignoring the details was all wet.
