Yesterday my twelve-year-old decided to take his second “personal day” of the year. He slept in, played with his younger siblings, watched some videos, ran errands with me and grabbed lunch at McDonald’s. No homework, no extra chores, no having to stay in bed for sickness, just a relaxed day at home when he was totally healthy and capable of going to school. And he did it all with my blessing.
When he started middle school in the fall, I told him I would support him taking one personal day each semester. There were some criteria that had to be met before I would agree to let him stay home. It couldn’t be the first or last week of the semester. He couldn’t have missed a lot of days for illness. He couldn’t be using the day to avoid a test or presentation. It needed to be a day where not much was happening and he wouldn’t have a lot to make up the next day.
He’s a healthy, hard-working kid and hasn’t had any trouble sticking to these guidelines. He’s not one to try and get out of assignments, and he typically goes to school even when he’s not feeling 100%. He’s not trying to get out school responsibilities, which is why I think he’s exactly the kind of kid that needs a break. And I’m the kind of parent that needs to give him (and myself) permission to take it.
I am a rule-follower and I think those of us with rule-follower tendencies can raise kids who also feel very bound to the rules. I didn’t excuse my kids from school during their elementary years unless they were truly sick or we were going out of town. My kids knew their attendance was important and they didn’t push me on it. But as my son approached middle school, I could feel some of my own attitudes shifting and I could feel this push to want to help him prioritize in healthy ways.
I remember being an overcommitted, over-scheduled high schooler. I opted to take an early class, so some semesters my day would start with a 7 a.m. class, then after school there would be play practice, and the night would end with musical practices. . . except when I got home I still needed to do my AP homework, practice music, and hopefully connect with my family. I can remember on more than one occasion falling asleep with my head in a textbook, my hand still gripping my pencil. And summers were spent working a full-time job to save up for college. I was running at a breakneck pace that in some ways feels like it never stopped.
I was talking to a college student babysitter of ours and she was explaining to me how busy she was, but how she was looking forward to graduation so her life would slow down. I told her that maybe her life would slow down, but maybe she was a person who managed to fill up all the empty spaces in her life, so this is pretty much always how things are going to feel. I don’t necessarily think that’s a healthy way to live, but I think for some of us we tend to lean in that direction. Any free moment feels like a vacuum to be filled. We need to be productive to be valued. If we stop moving, we stop being relevant, gaining influence, proving our worth. For those of us with that internal value system, sometimes the most subversive and healthy thing we can do is just step off the rollercoaster, even if it’s just for a day.
When we see that the world keeps moving without us, we get a small respite from the pressure of perfection. When we rest, we find ourselves capable of making more healthy decisions. When we can spend time with people who love us unconditionally– parents, siblings, the family dog– we can reorient our perspective and be reminded that we are not what we accomplish. This is what I want for my middle school son when he takes a personal day.
I remember a day during my senior year of high school when my mom walked into my bedroom and told me I wasn’t going to school. She told me I was too tired and she said something about how ridiculous this was. In her tone I didn’t necessarily hear an abundance of compassion for my exhausted state, but a deep sense of irritation with all the pressure I was under and how I seemed to keep taking on more and more. Calling me out of school when I wasn’t actually sick was her small act of rebellion and it was a much needed reminder that my mom didn’t need me to exhaust myself for her approval.
I want to offer that to my kids before they get to that state of emotional and physical depletion. I want them to know that school is important, but so is family, so is rest, so is their spiritual health. I want them to proactively choose times to get refreshed rather than getting to the end of their rope. I don’t want them bothering me to let them skip school or pretending to be sick. I want them to know that when they need rest, they can ask for it. They can find a way to preventatively build it into their schedule.
My hope is that this will help them develop an important lifelong skill of being able to remind yourself where your value lies. Maybe they won’t have to run themselves into the ground or suffer the impact of burnout. Maybe I can help instill in them routines of rest that will serve them when the pressures of adulthood feel overwhelming. Maybe while I’m teaching them these lessons, I will work harder to believe them myself.
One Comment
Leave a reply →