The other day I ran into a parent from a soccer team the boys played on a few years ago. After recognizing each other from behind our respective facial coverings, we launched into the COVID-19 parental conversation protocol. In my experience, this conversations has four main phases: 1) Acknowledgement that our children have lost pieces their childhood 2) Mutual inquiries about our kids’ schooling 3) Justification of why and how we’re socializing at a safe distance in the name of our kids’ sanity and 4) Humorous conclusion about the situation incorporating “day drinking,” “moving to New Zealand,” or “forming a quarantine commune.” After we finished the standard topics, we touched on something new. I mentioned one of the things missing is a regular opportunity for the boys to get better at something. To which this mother of three said “they need challenge” and my mind immediately latched on to the word “challenge” and it’s stuck with me ever since that day at Albertsons.
Pre-pandemic, our family calendar was filled with commitments that revolved around the boys’ development. In addition to school, there were baseball practices, band concerts, basketball games, cub scout meetings, play rehearsals, family outings, etc. Each one of those activities afforded the boys an opportunity to improve at something. It could be a specific skill, like a left-handed layup, or something more general, like learning how to get along better with peers. Each of these moments presented the boys some sort of challenge. Heck, sometimes the challenge was merely showing up to the activity. The point being, now without our usual outside world and the regular feedback loop it provides, how are our children being tested and what is the impetus for them to change and grow?
Last year, attending middle school and specifically navigating the new social dynamics was a very age-appropriate challenge for Ryan. My oldest son is primarily a rule-follower (gets it from his mother) and the wider range of freedoms and behaviors in middle school were eye-opening to him, to say the least. Prior to witnessing it in middle school, it didn’t occur to Ryan that a 13-year old could cause so much trouble that she would need an adult escort to and from all of her classes. Such bad behavior just didn’t register on his ethical scale. Sometimes I’ll ask Ryan if he’s heard about less than savory teenager topics and my inquiry is insulting to him, like I should know he’s more worldly for finishing the sixth grade. He’ll announce, “In case you don’t remember, “I’VE BEEN TO MIDDLE SCHOOL!” like a grizzled veteran who earned the Purple Heart during his second tour of Vietnam.
Whether it was surviving the jungle of the PE locker room or hearing an onslaught of obscenities lobbed by eighth graders, I’m sure the challenge was very real and I guarantee that Ryan grew from the experience. Getting through the wringer that is middle school social drama of is a rite of passage and one that is significantly less interesting when traveled via video conference. Ryan and I had some insightful and honest heart-to-heart talks about the nature of sixth grade boys and girls and how to evaluate and act in different situations. Since school has gone virtual, he’s needed significantly less guidance in this vein.
With very little on the schedule, a big part of our home life during the pandemic has been “filling time.” How many episodes of DC’s Legends of Tomorrow can we watch in one sitting? And I definitely remember days where I was counting hours until dinner or basically just waiting to go to bed. The problem with filling time is that it doesn’t feel “thriving.”
An important concept around the Matsumoto household is differentiation between “easy fun” and “hard fun.” As the name would suggest, easy fun is amusement that doesn’t take all that much effort to produce. Playing video games, watching YouTube, binging CW shows all fall into this category. Hard fun, on the other hand, takes additional effort to create, but pays off with so much more positive enjoyment and experiences Sure putting on your Scout uniform and getting popcorn supplies ready takes time and energy, but Chase absolutely loves selling popcorn as a part of the annual Scout fundraiser. (SHAMELESS PLUG:…and if wanted to support Chase & Scouts, you could do so by visiting chasethepopcorn.com) Would it be easier to slip on the headphones and watch Mr. Beast videos? Of course it would, but to what end? Not that there’s anything wrong with easy fun, but I’m guessing you can tell the Matsumoto administration recommends a healthy dose of hard fun in one’s life.
The whole easy fun/hard fun leans into the concept of “flow” as developed by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. I assure you, Jenni and I were busy reading his academic papers while chasing two toddlers around playgrounds years ago. According to Csikszentmihalyi, finding flow or “being in the zone” requires, among other things, a good balance between the perceived challenges of the task at hand and their own perceived skills. We feel peak experience when abilities are being tested just enough or in the words of the Alberstons soccer mom “they need challenge.”
And it’s not just the kids; we all need challenge. Flow is a crucial component to everyone’s happiness. While I may avoid challenge and sack out on the couch, I know that I am happiest when I’m firing on all cylinders. Sure, in the moment, indulging in a whole season season of Ozark at two in the morning seems fun, but it’s not meaningful or memorable. Managing Ryan’s baseball team, talking to Chase about time travel, writing this post, trying to master my new smoker are all going to be more engaging and potentially enriching activities.
With the exception of the baseball team, everything I just mentioned could be done while under a stay-at-home order. Still, like the rest of my family, I’m without many of the challenges of my previous outside world and the corresponding opportunities for growth. In this way, it feels like there’s a piece of me missing. For Seinfeld initiated, it like the conflict between Independent George and Relationship George–right now there is only Family Steve.
We’ve been at this for six months and thing are starting to change. School has started and so Family Jenni is also balanced with Teacher Jenni. Little League is allowed to practice and so Ryan and I have one of those outside commitments back. The Scouts are selling popcorn in-person and even behind the mask, Chase is still the best salesperson in the family.
The “challenge” soccer mom from Albertons–the soccer team the boys were on was horrifically bad. I was the assistant coach and our record was 1-8-1. Still, I think back to the challenges of that season–learning how to lose graciously, improving regardless of your record, staying cool in San Diego in September–those would be welcome today. That was our last season playing soccer as neither boy took to it, but if you told me we could play a soccer season this fall, I’d sign up to coach, chalk the fields, wash the uniforms, and bring the orange slices.
All of it will return and before you know it we’ll be back to complaining about “running the kids all over town” and “how busy we are.” In March when everything shut down, I was struck by the how fragile our world was as an invisible virus took away everything we took for granted. When more of the everyday challenges return, I will better appreciate them for what they are–opportunities for some challenging fun.
