There are many definitions of the word Cog but my favorite so far is: A subordinate member of an organization who performs necessary but usually minor or routine functions.
Sooooooo, like a kid? Ya know, each one in the family? Vital to run smoothly but no more and no less than the next one? Like that?
Cuz for now, I’ve had it with the little Johnny’s of the world running around thinking they’re the most special in all the land. Mommies did that. Stop doing that. Know what happens to kids who think the world revolves around them? Uhhhhh, they become adults who thinks the world revolves around them. Duh.
Each family member is a Cog, vital for cohesiveness; but no one holds the golden key to greatness.
Our family getting ready for camping roadtrip? Z’s lay out camping bins, tents, sleeping bags, etc. Everything needed for cozy camp living. The little Oz man carrying down pillows, blankets for the car, everything laid out that he could carry. Ma supervises and gets food and drinks packed up. Everyone has a job. If one of us fails our job, the whole unit hurts. So we all rely on each other to succeed. We took many roadtrips this way. Texas, multiple times to visit Granny; Yellowstone to hook up with the Washington relatives (one of the funnest 10 days of my life), and Seattle…the granddaddy of all roadtrips. Over 1600 miles of road; kids; mountain passes; and as many Capri Suns and red licorice one Tahoe could hold. (OH! Peanut butter cookies with a kiss in them. The babysitter sent us westward ho with a box of those. We wouldn’t have made it without ’em!) I was a proud Ma. We did it together. I couldn’t have done it without Zac. Or Zandra. Or Oscar. Or the Tahoe;)
If at any point in time, one of the kids revolted and pulled any type of “I need royal treatment, serve me” bullshit that I see kids doing these days, we would’ve sunk. The just past babyhood Oz man had a slight meltdown while gassing up in Spokane but after some explosive dia…well, you get the picture; all was well. (He also wanted to go back home and grab the shovels when we hit snow on our first Wyoming mountain pass. Uhhhhhh, no dude.)
Cogs. No superstars. Oh sure, the past 20 years has brought more attention in moments to one vs. the other two, but to date, they’ve supported each other in either celebrating or helping through hard times. But we had to roll this way. I was a single Ma; had a stressful job; went to school; and had no time for diva’s. If I had kids behave the way I see so many now, demanding attention to parents who are speaking to others; screaming incoherently instead of talking with clear enunciation; telling adults “I WANT!” instead of ‘May I?’; OR throwing such ginormous temper tantrums in stores that parent’s just buy loads of shit to shut them up INSTEAD OF GRABBING HOLD OF LITTLE JOHNNY’S ARM AND LEAVING WITHOUT BUYING ANYTHING!!!! I can’t imagine the relationship I would have with not only my kids (who I would be completely ashamed of) but with those around me.
Raising individual prince and princess’ do them no good mommies and daddies. Showing them that your world, your mission to life is to serve them will most likely make them believe that ALL people were placed on this earth to serve them. Don’t do that. You hurt them. You stunt their ability to recognize needs in others. You raise up high maintenance, self absorbed maniacs who have never heard the words, “You can’t do that now, we have to give ‘anyone else’s name’ attention now.” You give them chores and say good job when they’re done. No, they don’t need a reward. They did what they were supposed to. JHMFC, it’s almost has if kids are being raised with tip jars belted to their pants where they expect additional money or candy or whatever just for doing what they’re supposed to do. Instill a love for a job well done…and then watch them come up and ask if anything else needs to be done. You say yes, you need to go play outside and have fun. There little dude, there’s your reward.
You cannot help people permanently by doing for them, what they could and should do for themselves.