Posted on: Sunday, September 26, 2004

When the kids become your entertainment

By Michael C. DeMattos

It seemed like there was a family party nearly every weekend when I was growing up. My parents would give us the weekend itinerary on Friday and my brother and I would moan and groan until my mother finally had enough. Mom had a short fuse when it came to whining. The moment I saw smoke and smelled the sulfur. I would shut my mouth knowing that she was about to blow. Sadly, my brother was not so quick on the uptake, but that is a different story.

In the end, Mom and Dad prevailed and we were taken, sometimes kicking and screaming, to the family gathering. Once there, it seemed that everything went well. We hooked up with our cousins and spent the night running and playing and working up a sweat. We were seen but not heard.

I remember when we first told our daughter about our reading group. She was excited about seeing all her calabash cousins, but was unsure of how the night would unfold. That first night the adults formed a circle in the living room and we started our discussion. Meanwhile, the children were sent off to play. And play they did, mostly. Not used to having to fend for themselves, the kids ran through the circle demanding to be seen and heard.

"When are you going to be done?" "You guys have been meeting forever." "I am hungry." "I am tired." "I am bored." "When is it going to be our turn?"

Sure, I was loved as a child, but it seemed that my world revolved around the lives of my parents. Nowadays it seems the opposite is true. It seems that children are the sun around which parents orbit. While I am an advocate for children and have spent the past 20 years doing my best to keep them safe and happy, I find the change in the family constellation problematic.

And so each time a child broke through the ranks of the reading circle they were sent packing. This was adult time, and the kids were given the arduous task of playing and having fun. There was supervision, but we were not our children's entertainment.

Then something miraculous happened: The children became our entertainment. One of the kids got the idea to put on a performance for the adults after the reading group concluded. I still remember the first night, my daughter danced ballet, her cousin rolled and tumbled demonstrating her gymnastic prowess and the third child, still in diapers, cheered and laughed with glee and became the official mascot.

Now in our fourth year, the diapers are long gone, and the youngest is dancing hula while a fourth cousin is dancing hip-hop. What started off as a boring reading group for the kids is now an official performance night. It seems that they put as much planning into each night's performance as we do into our reading group. Everyone wins in the end. We get some peace and quiet during our meeting. The girls get their time on stage at the close of each night. Like my brother and I more than 30 years ago, these kids are kicking and screaming, but while we were just kicking up a fuss, they are kicking up their shoes.

Family therapist Michael C. DeMattos has a master's degree in social work.