My Son Hacked Off a Limb
Hey Dad,
It’s bitterly cold outside, but spring is coming. I can hardly wait because I’m a ‘plant guy’. I like flowers, shrubs, ornamental grasses, and trees of all kinds.
This time of year, I eye the plants in my yard and see what their prospects are for the summer. I check the red twig dogwood branch for swelling buds, pull back the old growth from last year’s perennials to see tender shoots poking up, and blame the deer for nibbling the tips off my white pines.
With that in mind, you can imagine the battle that ensued within me a couple of hours ago when I saw my oldest son, Ben, tromping across the yard carrying a sharp bow saw.
Twenty minutes earlier, he had asked me how to make a sling shot…not the kind with tubular metal and high-strength surgical hose, but the old-fashioned kind made from two rubber bands and a ‘Y’ shaped branch from a tree.
Minutes later, something outside the window caught my eye. It was Ben, with saw in hand, walking across the side yard with determination in his face. I knew instantly which tree he was heading for—my flowering crab. It had been rescued from a demolition project, and for the last four years, I had groomed and trained it into a nice shape.
“He has an entire woods to choose from, and he’s going to cut a honking big branch off MY flowing crab,” I thought. That’s when the battle started. Gardener vs. Dad. The gardener had plenty of valid arguments, but the dad inside of me said, “Hey, I’m growing kids, not trees.”
Later, Ben walked by the window holding the honking big branch cut from my ‘baby’ and came inside to show me the beginnings of his sling shot. He smiled and looked to see my response. This was crucial—one moment of weakness, and I would blow it and teach him that trees are more important to me than he is.
I looked at the severed limb and said, “Wow, that’s a good stick. That’ll make a great sling shot.”
Victory.
Dad, is your son or daughter constantly asking to use your ___________ (fill in the blank)? Take a deep breath, smile, and let them. You know what? Flowering crabapples, shiny cars, gleaming tools, and the things you’re holding on to don’t matter squat, but the kids who mess them up—mean everything.
You ‘da dad,
This is all well and good but what about your son learning about respect for his father and obeying your word?
regards
Drew
Methinks Drew missed the point.
another day will bring another opportunity for a lesson in respect/obedience 🙂
This is a good lesson in not placing a replaceable thing (tree, car, etc.) over an irreplaceable thing your blessed child.
I don’t see disobedience because I don’t see where the son was told not to cut the tree. Congratulations on building up your son.
I’m absolutely onboard with not placing other things over the value of my child. And I think this was indeed a victory. But I’m thinking it might also have been a good chance for some some instruction on respect for others and for things on which others have worked hard. After the fact, it’s probably too late – no way to avoid just making him feel miserable for the mistake. But if you could have caught him prior and said, “hey, great idea – but let’s think about the best place to go find that branch” also. That might have been a double-win. (Or am I missing it?)
actually, he did see Ben walking across the yard before he cut the tree. seems to me the dad missed the chanch to teach where to saw.
Thanks for sharing this story. I’m happy for your son, able to share an experience with you and be empowered by doing something on his own without having a parent take over and do it for him. Letting your son’s growing independence and self-esteem have greater value in your life than your personal projects is how I’d like to be for my kids, too.
I think the issue is more for Dad to get a grip on what’s important, which he did. Seizing the teachable moment means sometimes stopping ourselves long enough to see our own teachable moment. It’s not always about what the kids are learning. Thanks for sharing your life experiences and the everyday struggles of being a person as well as a parent.
Did the kid ever finish the slingshot or is it sitting some were on a lonely shelf? I am 14 and this is revolutionary thinking for my family. My mom is glad you shared this, because she says she has never thought of a situation this way. Things may be changing around here! Yeah!