You’d think I would know better by now, but I’ll give you just a couple examples of how my decisions have affected my family; lame in that they’re real, ridiculous in that they’re recent. So Friday I left for an 8:30 appointment; I had three that morning. And was headed to book group at noon. Afterward I had two choices: go Costco and to the little market to get our produce or head home and deal with groceries later. I’m a stay-at-home mom (theoretically) with all sorts of discretionary time, not a big deal to switch up my schedule. But I’m constantly taking the easy way out and just wanted to get home for a bit before getting the kids at 3. Which is what I chose. Which meant that I had to take my 13 year-old son with me to the next town over to WalMart (cleaner than the nasty one close to us) for what I thought would be a consolidation of both the little market and Costco, it would give us a little time together, it’d be cheaper, and it wouldn’t take long. Just for the record, I was wrong on all accounts. He crabbed the entire way there, the whole 15 minute drive. It took us more than an hour and a half to go to one store. And I spent a ton. Plus, I refused to buy most of the produce I needed because it was so much more expensive than our little market sale prices and not as good. Which meant I had to go to the market and Costco on Monday anyway and I doubled what I would’ve spent on groceries for the week with that one choice.
Over Christmas that same 13 year-old son wanted to buy a computer game, he had his own money, so I acquiesced. Within a few minutes he was distraught because it wasn’t working. Our home-from-college other son quickly assessed the situation and reported that it wasn’t compatible with our computer. I hadn’t even thought to check, I just assumed the boys knew what they were doing. I’d asked our older son to check to see if it was from a reputable site, if it was an ok game. Which he did. But I was upset because it was a simple thing to check to see if it was going to be compatible or not, something they didn’t even pay attention to. I was mad because of their laziness, but mostly my own laziness to step away from what I was cooking to walk over and just look through a few screens. So we basically just ate the $15. (But not really, because I just slide that kind of thing over to our “continuing ed” column of our make-believe budget.) So maybe it wasn’t so much about the money, but it unnecessarily created a tense scene for my sons and me, and it made my 13 year-old feel embarrassed and like I was blaming him, something that I could’ve avoided if I’d taken 30 seconds to check things out.
Just a couple weeks ago I pulled another dumb one. We replaced our college son’s broken (flip) phone with a used one, which we wanted to get in the mail as soon as we could. They gave us a charging cord at the store, which I didn’t think to look at till I got home. Of course it didn’t fit in the phone I’d just bought, which was so irritating. I hate errands. HATE them. So I mailed the phone anyway and figured my son most likely had one laying around he could use. Come to find out he had to order one. But for some reason the cord he ordered came to our home address and not his college dorm. Not only that, but it came with an envelope for Postage Due. So then we had to make another trip to the post office and pay again for a cord that was just delivered and mail it to my son. How hard would it have been for me to have simply gone back to the store where I bought the phone on the way to mail the package and just exchange the cord? During the three weeks he was without his phone he missed calls and reminders from teachers, club members, and jobs. Can you begin to see how my lazy ways actually complicate things? It’s so annoying… to me, my husband, and the rest of my family.
You might remember your days with babies and toddlers. Do you recall how applesauce, Raisin Bran and oatmeal became solid compounds on their high chair trays? In my early mom days I just ignored their business and figured I’d deal with it later, I always seemed to have so many other fires to put out. As a busy young mom with littles running around, when I had to finally address the glued-on applesauce or baby cereal hours later, it took considerably longer to scrape off the tray than it would have if I would’ve simply taken a wash cloth and cleaned it off when I was wiping down my baby. I surrendered precious time with my baby and toddler by putting it off, time I could’ve been reading to them or just sitting out on the grass with them. Obviously, I was annoyed and irritated when I had to focus on the clean-up hours later, I was more tired, less fresh, and I wasn’t in a relaxed state of mind, which obviously affects the entire household.
Even this morning, 28 degrees out. It would’ve easily taken12 seconds for me to run out and start the van a few minutes before we had to leave, but I didn’t ever really feel like it. Which is no big deal really, just made for a pretty cold ride to school for all of us, something I could’ve easily avoided. It wasn’t just that I was chilled, it’s that my choice made it cold for the kids as well. Not a biggie. And yet, that’s exactly it. It wasn’t a big deal, so why didn’t I just take the time so that we’d all be a little more comfortable?
I’ve thought about this a lot over the years, and I’m chagrined to notice how lazy I still am. Truly lazy. In some ways, when it’s something I like to do, I’m a go-getter. I’ll organize a closet or drawer any day. I’ll write a love note or work on a blog any hour of the day. But I’d put off painting for weeks, even though we needed to get all the trim done in four rooms by the time the carpet came. I constantly put off cooking the food for get-togethers till the very last minute, sometimes up until 15 minutes before guests are due. I’ve made nuts for a friend that didn’t work but I was running out the door, so I had to go with it. So embarrassing. I was cooking bread the other day as guests were coming in the door, and it wasn’t working (our oven’s mostly dead, I discovered). I’d rather set the table and clean than cook any day, so I just put it off. Now is also the perfect example. I have to leave in 20 minutes. Still haven’t done the breakfast dishes, gotten ready, loaded up the recycling, made my lunch, or packed up the van with my errands for the day. Instead I’m just writing like I have all the time in the world. Good grief.
There’s not really an analogy, a metaphor, or even a hidden message in all this. Just an acknowledgment that I still have a ways to go (as you’ll continue to see) and maybe a lesson for all of us as we indulge in our laziness and as we raise our families. The thing is, it’s not just us our lazy choices affect. That’s the part I don’t think we (I/our kids) get. We mistakenly think it’s our business if we want to be lazy or not, it shouldn’t matter to anyone else what we do with our time or other resources. But that’s where we’re so wrong.
“All are free to choose, of course, and we would not have it otherwise. Unfortunately, however, when some choose slackness, they are choosing not only for themselves, but for the next generation and the next. Small equivocations in parents can produce large deviations in their children! Earlier generations in a family may have reflected dedication, while some in the current generation evidence equivocation. Sadly, in the next, some may choose dissension as erosion takes its toll.” (Elder Maxwell, Oct 1992 General Conference)
Granted, he’s talking about the religiosity and faith of a family, but apply it broadly. How many generations have been affected by the work ethic (or lack thereof) parents have exhibited and taught? How many people do we see taking the easy way out in our society these days?
I have friends who were in school for more than a decade longer than we were, way longer than me and many years longer than my husband who became a veterinarian. No way did they take the easy way out, I’m completely impressed and inspired by them. They make me wish I could have a do-over. They leave me wondering what I was thinking, why I wasted so much time when I could’ve worked harder to make more of the opportunities I had in college. This is a regret many adults have I think. Maybe most of us were inherently lazy as kids and teenagers. But I’m impressed by those who managed to catch the vision at a younger age. Obviously some still have no idea, and some are playing catch-up (like me). Granted, everyone has different opportunities and backgrounds, but for those of us who just didn’t quite live up to our potential or work as well as we could’ve, it’s disappointing to realize what could’ve materialized if only we’d tried a little harder. This principle of delayed-gratification—working hard now for greater rewards down the road—is one we’re in large measure failing to teach our younger set.
I think back to my own schooling and how I slowly let my grades slide over the years I was in college, especially frustrating to note because I’d worked so hard to get in to college. I didn’t even know what my grades in college were until we were moving a few weeks back and I found an old transcript. I just remember worrying more about who I was going out with, where we’d be playing tennis that night, writing my missionary, and working (and working out). I don’t know where my head was, but I was extremely lazy about what I was really there to do: get an education. It just seemed like something else was always more interesting or pertinent at the moment. To this day, my college experience is my biggest regret. I wish I’d used that time to figure out what I wanted to become—what kind of employment I could use my natural abilities in—instead of just taking classes to finish a major I didn’t even love. I just try to squelch the memory every time it surfaces (like when we’re getting to know a new couple and we talk about our college years). As a stay-at-home-mom, maybe you’d think it doesn’t really affect anyone but me. But what if I actually need to fall back on a useful major? What if I had used that time to develop some real skills that I could use for a future job? Even now, I’d love to have something to contribute in some kind of part-time work, I’d like to help with the increasing expenses of an older family, and yet I feel like my education is useless and that I'd have to start over anyway. I continue to feel dumb and uneducated even about what I was supposed to be learning in my major and other general issues I know we covered in school but I lazily ignored. I feel like I wasted my education and it affects how I feel about myself. Major life regret.
I’m embarrassed to admit I’m still figuring things out—even the small things, and yet maybe you can relate. I don’t know how many times I’ve left dinner to the last minute simply because I’m too lazy to think about it earlier in the day or even the afternoon (something to do with not really loving to cook), but I’m learning that dinner is a million times easier if I take 15 minutes before I go shopping and plan out the week. Totally easy, but it makes all the difference in the days ahead. Are you like I’ve been when it comes to laundry? I hate it when I’ve washed the sheets but they aren’t quite dry before we have to go out on a Friday night, which means we’re making the bed at 11 that night when all I want to do is go to sleep. Lately I’ve made the sheets a priority and am getting them done first, a simple—and obvious—concept. But you all know what it’s like to finally make it to your room at night and then be hit by the pile of underwear all over the bed. We’ve had nasty subfloor with a plastic covering and tons of dog hair, I certainly wasn’t putting my clean clothes on the floor, and we don’t have any other ledges or benches, so there’s only one solution. I’m so embarrassed on nights like that. My procrastination prevents us from getting to bed like we wanted, and instead we’re spending our time matching socks, good grief.
Likewise, I actually wonder if I parent out of laziness or am I really parenting with love and logic? Do I truly believe a lassiez-faire approach is best or am I the mom who just can’t be bothered making her kids’ lunches or doing their laundry or filling out their missionary/college applications or micro-managing their social lives because I’m too lazy? I’m not sure. But yesterday at the dentist, my hygienist mentioned reading to her grand babies and reminded me that I read to my kids all the time (we’ve been going there for 17 years, she’s watched us raise up our babies). I told her that was the only thing I was absolutely certain I did right as a mom. And I’m happy that at least in that one regard I took the high road. I remember gathering them for stories before naps and again before bed on the “reading chair” and sometimes just randomly throughout the day, under a tree, just cuddled on a couch. I was completely hands-off with what they wore and how they did their hair (and maybe that was lazy, maybe it was just self-preservation); but I’m so grateful for the time we invested in reading, that I was not lazy at least in that one regard. I hope that my kids will remember those times and that they will want those same memories with their own kids.
I hope they will be truly mindful as they sort out their own parenting styles, that they will act with intention and not make choices based on the path of least resistance. Even if we are decidedly lazy in most ways, parenting is (along with marriage and relationships in general) the one arena in which we need to pull up our boot straps and pay attention. Lazy parenting might buy us some free time when we feel the most desperate, like consistently using electronics to keep messes at bay and to keep kids quiet and entertained. But looking ahead, our longing for ease may have undesired consequences, perhaps kids who need to always be engaged with a machine, who don’t know how to think creatively, who don’t feel comfortable interacting with people, who don’t want to engage in the world, who think life is a game, who resent parents who try to set limits later on. I just tend to think as laziness as spending our resources frivolously now rather than investing in the future. Working hard is looking down the road, visualizing what we really want out of life. It’s putting aside our selfishness and instant gratification, whereas laziness is spending our paycheck on candy or shoes and telling our families we have none for the rent. Our decisions aren't ours alone; they affect the people we love and interact with.
Our kids need to learn this principle. Which works best when they rely on us to model it. We can teach them to notice what the consequences of their decisions and choices will likely be—on both themselves and others. It’s obviously preferable to teach this when they’re young, but it’s tough for really little ones to grasp. Even our teenagers are still figuring this out. Our 13 year-old son has exactly one white shirt and one pair of church pants. So I’ve reminded him, if he has a band concert or other dress-up occasion during the week, that he will run into problems if he doesn’t wash his shirt. He’s had enough instances over the years that he knows what will happen. I think our 15 year-old is getting this because she’s run into troubles when she’s sort of had a lazy weekend and then has tons of studying and notes and reading to make up in the week following. But they're learning their decisions affect the rest of the family too. It takes her away from a family activity if she hasn’t finished her work, and his lack of foresight could definitely affect our morning or my day with a shirt to wash and take to him (he knows that will never happen; he’d just have to iron it and wear it dirty). It seems to work best when we let natural consequences give the pep talks instead of us. But think of the application, how much more meaningful our kids’ lives could be if they could just wrap their heads around the principle of industry, of purposeful living, of looking ahead. Instead of consistently relegating themselves to the easiest track, they could learn to put in the effort for what they really want in life. We can help them shoot higher than the moment, to realize what they do today potentially affects their future families and their own kids. I know I was a weird kid, but that always motivated me.
I guess my point in all of this is to remind us (myself mostly) to think ahead just a bit. And ask what the ramifications of my split-second decisions will be, and not just on me. How will my decision affect others? Arguably, we don’t need to create a flow chart about every choice we’re up against; but it doesn’t hurt to take just a second and note that laziness in the moment usually means we’re putting off something that requires a little effort. And in my experience, the most valuable things in life require effort. I’m not saying a night off with cereal for everyone will lead to poor eating habits, nor am I saying a nap isn’t sometimes the very best investment for you and everyone in your family. I’m just pointing out that sometimes we mistakenly believe our choices only affect us, and I just don’t believe it. We’re way more interconnected than that.
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