h. Life is full of 'Plan B' situations

While driving my seven year old son, Ollie, to school today I got to explain to him the concept of 'Plan B situations'.

You see today is Sports Day and as a special treat the school arranged 'special lunches' for the children whose mothers were organised enough to fill out the special forms requesting said lunches ... weeks ago ... and motivated enough to go to the school and line up for many many minutes (whose got that sort of time) to pay for them at the school pay office.

Unfortunately, for young Ollie, he doesn’t have such an organised and motivated mother - so as we drove to school today he was lamenting the fact that his lunch would not be very special at all.  Just the ‘same old’: Vegemite sandwich, apple, two shop-bought biscuits, and a bottle of water.

The children who had the other kind of mothers would have for their lunch today: Hot sausage roll with tomato sauce, flavoured milk or juice, and - most sorely missed by Ollie - a cupcake!

Ollie repeated the word ‘cup cake’ a few times as he listed off the items in the ‘special lunch’ which he would never get to eat because I never got to fill out the necessary paperwork or pay.

I could feel the depth of his disappointment as we drove along with the  morning traffic. I had let my child down. I considered how important such a thing would be for a seven year old boy whose friends all got to eat cupcakes while he ate boring shop-biscuits. It could ruin the entire Sports Day for him! I recalled being seven years old.  It would have ruined my day … because I certainly loved cupcakes as much as Ollie.

Then I remembered the answer to such problems which I have used in my life during many similar, or equally disastrous, situations. I have also taught the concept to my three older children. 

The answer is to find a ‘Plan B’ solution: An alternative plan.

“Ollie,’ I said attempting to lift his spirits. ‘What we could do is work out a Plan B here.’

‘A what?’ he asked.

‘A Plan B,’ I repeated. ‘In fact there is a movie production company called Plan B.  Life is filled with Plan B situations and sometimes the Plan B’s are better than the Plan A’s.’

Ollie remained silent.  He clearly had no idea what I was talking about.

‘So, in this situation … I know I should have got that ‘special lunch’ form sorted … but we didn’t … and we can’t change that now.  But, how about we stop by at the Bakery near your school on the way and you can buy any cupcake you like.  We could buy all the things in the Special Lunch - or - you could choose whatever you like for a special lunch instead.’

‘Yes!’ Ollie cried with delight as he bounced in his seat. I looked into my rear-view mirror and he was smiling back at me giving me the thumbs up. ‘That would be great, Mum!’

I considered how easily Ollie forgave me for being such an imperfect mum.  Although, I’ve always thought that through modelling being average in pretty much everything I do - including mothering - my children will never grow up to feel that they need to be perfect.

Actually, I had a friend who had a ‘perfect’ mother growing up: Her mother’s house was always spotless; the evening meals always consisted of at least two courses; she cared for her seven children and helped in her husband’s business; she never bought ‘shop-cake’ or ‘shop-biscuits’ but made every item of food in the house herself; she even milked a cow on their property and made her own butter from the milk and baked her own bread … and she was also a professional artist as well - in case all of the other stuff wasn’t quite enough! 

Her 'perfection' as a mother and as a person overwhelms me now when I think about it. Although, she was, I might add, also a really lovely woman who was very kind to me as I grew up. And her children and her husband all loved her dearly, as did her many friends and all the people she helped at her local church.

However, when my friend became a wife and mother, years later, the 'bar' that her mother had set for her in this role was so incredibly high that my friend struggled to feel ‘good enough’ for many years.  She told me that she used to feel that she should  try to be ‘perfect’ as a mother especially.

Meanwhile, my mother had been pretty ‘average’ as a mother:  She bought shop-biscuits and shop-cake mostly - only occasionally cooking some as well.  She had a tidy house which was fairly clean - but never ever was it spotless. She joined many craft groups and she studied at university from when I was at primary school - so being busy she often asked my siblings and me to help her to get the tea ready, or even do it without her. And, at least once a week we had an ‘easy tea', as she called it, which consisted of shop bought pies and pasties and cakes. Yum! we all thought.

But I was happy enough, as were my siblings, and when I grew up the bar set for me in the role of wife and mother was so low that I never felt any pressure to be perfect. ‘Good enough’ was good enough for me. So, unlike my friend in this area, I just cruised along as a Mum ... and I still do. The ‘special lunch’ oversight is just another example in a very very long list of ‘average-mothering’ examples.  But my kids are still breathing … and smiling … and so am I.

But, for my friend, her early years as a wife and mother were exhausting as she tried so hard to be as ‘perfect’ as she could: In addition to caring for her three children, she worked four days a week as a doctor (necessary these days to pay the high mortgages in Australia and the high cost of living now); she planned two- or three-course evening meal menus in a book one month in advance; she planned her housework in another book one month in advance (the book listed all the rooms which needed cleaning and which room would be the priority for each week); she sewed many of her children’s clothes; and her fridge was incredibly organised with different lists on cardboard charts of all of her children’s activities and library days and so many other things - so she never forgot special lunches or anything else.  And she volunteered  on school boards and she taught Sunday school as well. 

When her children were young she also planned and catered the most amazing birthday parties:  For one ‘pirate birthday,’ when one of her sons was four, she filled the house with balloon fish hanging from the ceiling along with blue and green paper seaweed and paper boats and pirate outfits which she made for all the invited children, and pirate games she planned and created, and - the piece de resistance - she also made an entire three meter long wooden boat  in the backyard so that the children could play pirates and fish for balloon fish - using the fishing rods she'd made - on the lawn!

Seriously!  The wooden pirate boat had a mast and a sail! 

Meanwhile, my children were lucky to get a party at McDonalds because I didn’t want to cook and clean up any the mess! I just sat and drank coffee and read a newspaper while the Mc Donalds staff looked after the kids.
 
Finally, for my friend - after many years, when her children were in their late teens - she realised that she didn’t need to be the ‘perfect’ in her role as a wife and a mother.  It wasn't possible or necessary to be perfect ... ever!  Her children and her husband and all of her many friends loved her because she was such a dear, sweet, loving  person - not because she had a spotless house or because she made tasty meals and threw great birthday parties.  Those things were very nice  but all of us would have preferred her to rest a little more and do things for herself some of the time. 

My friend has now discovered her own Plan B fortunately.  

She still has a house more tidy than mine will ever be; she is still a better cook than I will ever be … but she’s slowed down and she now loves to tell me how great it is to just be ‘average’ and forget things like 'special lunches,' and not join committees, and allow herself to accept that ‘good enough’ is good enough!

But, back to Ollie and his imperfect mum who didn’t order the 'special lunch' for Sports Day today but instead opted for a ‘Plan B’ solution and took him to the bakery on the way to school.
 
How did that all turn out?

Well, Ollie bought a chocolate donut for his 'Plan B special lunch' as he decided that he quite liked vegemite sandwiches and he didn’t really want a sausage roll anyway. However, as an extra treat I bought him a chocolate eclair, for after school, as well.

‘Do you understand 'Plan B’s' now Ollie?’ I asked him as we drove on to school from the bakery.

‘I think so,’ he said. ‘It’s like when I keep going … and I don’t give up … and I just keep trying.’

‘Do you mean 'persevering' ? 

‘Yes, I don’t give up and I keep trying and then I get there.’

‘Yes, that is what making a Plan B is about, Ollie. It’s when we don’t give up and we just think of new ideas and keep going when the first idea didn’t work. Sometimes we don’t get to where we thought we wanted to go.  But sometimes we get to where we need to be instead … and sometimes we get to somewhere even better than anything we could have hoped for.’

Driving from the bakery meant that I had to take a detour from the usual route we take when we drive directly to school from home - however, driving along the new streets today we found ourselves surrounded by the most beautiful white blossom trees.  The blossom wafted across the road and the footpath, with each gust of wind, creating the impression of snow falling from the sky and covering the ground. It’s spring in Australia and flowers are starting to fill our gardens again. However, the street we drove down today  was especially lovely.

‘Sometimes when you do a Plan B, Mum, things work out lovely.’ Ollie said staring at the blossom trees. ‘My favourite blossom is white.’

‘I know it is Ollie.’
 
‘And I know these streets from Christmas - when we 'drived'  here to see Christmas lights.’

He was silent for a while and then I heard him speak again: ‘Memories’ he said wistfully, ‘Memories.'  

And I knew that he was thinking back to when he had last seen the blossom-filled street ablaze with Christmas lights last year.

However, I think it’s equally likely that he was also creating new memories of today when a 'Plan B' took us to a lovely place which we might never have seen in its white-blossom glory had we not taken the detour that the new plan forced us to make.

Sometimes Plan B’s can be even better than Plan A’s. I think today was an example of that for Ollie and me.