If I Do This ...

... will that happen?

"What If" is a game that I became aware of while watching Sesame Street. I used to watch a lot of Sesame Street with my children. I'd watched it before. It premiered on November 10, 1969.

Wikipedia Entry for Sesame Street - (and yep - cut & paste - to read about the Carnegie Institute, Joan Ganz Cooney, Jim Henderson, and many others who intelligently created a new genre of educational television for children. NOTE: "Cooney suggested creating a program that would spread prolearning values to both viewers and nonviewers (including their parents) that would affect them for many years after they stopped watching it.") - GOAL MET.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sesame_Street

Like I said, "I never know exactly what will come out of the fingertips when I start to write these things." Wasn't exactly expecting Sesame Street, but it does play in.

One of my dream jobs was to work for Sesame Street and/or The Children's Television Workshop. I've only dreamed about it. I don't like the current turn that Sesame Street has taken, but it's not entirely terrible. I also wish it was on more often. Strange, huh. Wanting a show on more often (and at better times) when I don't like it as much as I did before. Sesame Street has definitely had a lasting, effective affect on me and countless others.

As time has progressed, I've found that I've fallen in love with little kids again. Their joy and innocence is addicting. How they learn and so quickly! Little sponges running around sucking it all up. It's after they squeeze something out from that sponge that they learn about filtering. What is OK to say. What is not. Behavior; good, bad and so-so. Experiencing this process can be exhilarating. It is exhausting, too. Children force me to be aware of my words and deeds, and I like that. I am not afraid of children.

I've been in love with TV for a long time. The combination of TV and Early Childhood Education was and is brilliant. At one hour in total length cut up into many vignettes, Sesame Street provided me with many opportunities to interact with my children throughout the show. We laughed when we watched Sesame Street and while we retold the stories we had seen. We discussed lessons like "What If" a lot. We talked about all the characters, and why we liked them. Well, before my children could talk, I talked about all the characters, and why I liked them a lot. One of my favorite characters was "The 'A' Machine."

People are constantly griping about TV being used as a babysitter, and I stand proudly guilty as charged. I plopped my kids down to watch Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers. If I had the time, I plopped down with them. If I didn't, I constantly checked in on them and stayed for a moment or two. One of my favorite memories of my son is because of a moment when he was watching Sesame Street just like "A Guy."

Imagine if you will, a two year old boy propped up on his daddy's pillow, laying in his parents bed, watching Sesame Street; one arm bent with his hand behind his head, the other bent with his hand hooked in under his waist band.

"No. No, no. No, no, no," I thought, "What am I going to say? Oh My God! No!"

"Honey, what are you doing? Are you having fun?" I said.

No response.

"Dear. Take your hand out from your waist band, please," I continued, "Gentlemen don't sit like that."

"Huh?"

"Your hand, Sweetie. No not that one. The other one. That's it. Thank you."

I went off to the kitchen to continue my work and breathe while making gestures I didn't want my children to see. When I checked back later, he was at it again.

"Boo-Boo," I reminded.

He removed his hand. He was a pretty quick learner. He also didn't really like being called Boo-Boo. He got the nickname because of Yogi and Boo-Boo. My daughter was taller and took the lead. My son was smaller and followed while questioning the sanity of the decisions.

It's one of my favorite stories about my son. He just graduated from Film School. He's found his passion. His Senior Project was autobiographical; both funny and scary. He can be sloth-like. He can toil like an ox. He's still funny as hell, and to prove it -

Right now, I am listening to him make sounds in the shower; weird yawning, waking up sounds. I swear I heard singing.

He's still "a guy." I've raised me "A Man!" I don't correct him too much anymore. Besides, I consider myself lucky. I only know as much as I do about my son because he still lives with me. His bedroom is his sanctuary, so I butt out.

I even understand, "What?! It's warm." Used to gross me out so bad! Ewwwwww. Now, I've learned the joys of the waist band and the hand(s). It is warm and so perfectly proportional. I've learned many things from my son, and he's learned a lot from me because of Sesame Street.

I wonder if there's a parent and/or teacher out there who has their students make sock puppets or stick puppets, so that their character can give a presentation on a letter or number - to start. That's a pretty basic idea that's good for the ages. Seems I had a teacher, or was it a parent or grandparent, that did that. When I see my granddaughter again, I'll have to have some socks, material, yarn, buttons, needles, thread and glue available. I think I made puppets with my kids. I don't know. Seems laundry lent itself to a few silly sock situations. I have a vague memory of a blind, white newt doing a comedic bit.

If I do this will that happen? It's good to think before doing something. It's good to think while doing something. It's good to have rules that change. It's good to find compromise. It's good to play while working. Talking and laughing are two of the best healing forces around.

My son's girlfriend and I had stressful days yesterday. Off in our own worlds, we shared a certain emotional intensity due to dissimilar situations. My son and I listened to her. My son and she listened to me. My son interjected humor. We did not respond. I offered an affirmation. She responded and started laughing while saying it because my son started offering other voices she could say it with. She turned the table on me with an affirmation, and my son offered a voice. Off we went with our venting/healing session. We are so lucky.

We finished up the evening sharing pet stories. Most of them were funny, and that felt so good. Anytime a story became a bit too serious, we became aware and switched focus to funny, without stating it specifically, understanding that the hour was late and there really was nothing more to be done except laugh, get some rest, and wake up to a new day. Of course, we talked and laughed for hours and stayed up way too late again, but we all went to bed a bit happier and more relaxed; or so I want to believe.

It takes a long time and lots of approaches to get something right. For instance:

My son is now headed out. Before leaving, he walked toward me with his arms outstretched for our hug. My son pretty much always does this. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time, I'm receptive. This time before he arrived at my side, I already had my arms outstretched towards him. How lucky am I? I'm luckier than you know because before leaving, without any prompting, my son just "did the trash." Amazing. It's taken a long time and lots of approaches to get it right.

If I do this will that happen? It's such a good game, "What If."