In Theory

     Sir Isaac Newton has been called the most influential scientist to have ever lived.  Wikepedia will tell you that not only was Isaac Newton a scientist; he also happened to be a physicist, mathematician, astronomer, natural philosopher, alchemist and theologian.  How is it possible that a stay at home mom with no college degree who required a tutor to pass algebra 2 has disproved one of Sir Isaac's theories?  I suppose it is an actual law and not a theory.  Newton's third law of motion, in layman's terms (or Shannon's terms- take your pick), basically states that for every action there will be an equal but opposite reaction. How did I come to disprove this basic and widely accepted law of motion, one may ask?  It was completely unintentional.  I generally try to keep a safe distance from all things scientific or mathematical in nature.  This startling discovery, which would shock the world at large and turn the mechanical world upside down (that is if more than five people read my blog, and if I understood the basic principals of science above a third grade level) was made while I was attempting to get my baby to poop.  That's right; I said the "p word".  If you are offended by descriptions of bodily functions to any degree, 1)you are not a parent, and 2) you may want to stop reading this post now.  I will try to refrain from getting too graphic, but a discovery of this magnitude does deserve some explanation.  My baby boy was born before his bowels were ready to perform their proper function.  He has always had some difficulties in the "p department".  When he was a small infant, these difficulties led his father and I to buy liquid gold formula for "sensitive tummies."  After selling a few prized possessions and remortgaging the house to buy said formula for the first six months of our baby's life, Dirk and I decided it was time to switch him to the regular formula.  It was iron fortified, which is code for constipating, at least in babies with sensitive tummies.  The first few months on the new formula were filled with a lot of screaming, red faced grunting, thermometers covered in Vaseline (won't go into detail there), Miralax, and occasionally glycerin suppositories.  One day, after about a week with no dirty diapers and an apparent demonic possession of my sweet baby, I decided it was time for a suppository.  I was ready to put my sweet boy out of his misery.  Perhaps most of you have never had the distinct pleasure of using a glycerin suppository.  In case you have not yet experienced it, I will explain.  Glycerin suppositories are small white, bullet shaped pieces of glycerin which are inserted in a place where you don't want many things shoved, and are used to "get things moving".  On the day of my scientific discovery, I pulled out the pristine, pure white glycerin bullet, and gently inserted it in my baby's bum.  Then I waited.  Within about ten minutes, Ryan's face turned the color of a beet and his physical exertion became apparent.  It was working!  And oh how it worked!!!  Had I not know from his face alone that the suppository had done it's job, I would certainly have known by the sound and smell which shortly followed.  I'm pretty sure my neighbors up the street were aware that Ryan had finally "made a poo."  It was a five alarm, ten wipe, strip down, bathe and dress diaper.

     As I mentioned before, I do not have a scientific mind.  But if you had seen the reaction to my action, you would be questioning Sir Issac's third law of motion as well.  Let's examine the facts: My action was this: I gently inserted a clean, fresh smelling suppository, which is basically a piece of soap into my tiny baby.  The reaction caused by the action was this: My baby basically exploded into an a-bomb of baby stench.  Opposite, perhaps, but certainly not equal.  I am sure many parents have similar stories of their children's bodily functions defying all scientific law and reason.  Perhaps the great scientists of the world never had children.  I'm pretty sure Isaac Newton never did.  This would be a great point to stop this post.  But I am far too long-winded for that.  Many theories exist in our world.  Some are touted as "laws", but to me they are still theories.  A theory is a way of trying to understand the way something works.  In science, these theories are often tested extensively and then become laws.  There are a few theories I would not mind being the test subject for.  For instance, the theory, "money can't buy happiness."  Some may say this is a proven fact.  To me it is purely conjecture. I have never had a chance to prove or disprove it.  I would be more than willing to be the guinea pig in that experiment.  As a friend once said it best, "Money may not buy happiness, but I'd rather cry my eyes out in a Mercedes than in  a Geo Metro."  I have already disproved the seven year itch theory.  I think the seventh year of marriage to my husband was one of our best.  Then there's the chaos theory, which basically asserts that if a butterfly flaps it's wings, it can affect climate and other changes on the other side of the world.  I am a firm believer in the chaos theory.  I just wish whichever dang butterfly is flapping away over in China would give it a rest.  Maybe the chaos in my house would settle down a bit.

     Parenthood is one giant theory.  As parents, we are constantly trying to prove that flawed, jaded, often clueless and helpless human beings can raise other human beings to become well-rounded, functioning adults who will not only survive in the outside world, but who will thrive in it.  I have this theory that I am a good parent.  I have a nurturing heart.  I love my children more than my own life.  but I am constantly, daily trying to prove that these elements combined will be enough to produce the desired result.  Isaac Newton once said, "Errors are not in the art but in the artificers."  I think as parents, we are often ashamed of our children's misbehavior because we feel it is somehow a reflection of our parenting.  When our child throws an ear splitting tantrum in public, we begin to wonder if we have done an adequate job teaching them how to behave.  When our child seems to completely forget how to use the words "please" and "thank you", we wonder if we are unintentionally raising a spoiled rotten brat.  We wonder.  We postulate.  We cry.  We pull out hairs, many of which have turned gray.  And the truth of it is, there is no answer.  There are no definitive parenting laws.  There are far too many variables.  Each parent is different; so is each child.  Parenting involves a lot of guesswork, followed by a lot of praying that your guess will work.  I have never understood science.  I have always been a little better with matters of the heart.  This works out as a mom, for the most part.  Dirk may have to help our children with their math and science homework after they are out of the fifth grade, but I will always be there with a hug, a smile and a listening ear.  So much about children and about parenting is mysterious and undefinable.  I have this theory though;  All kids really want is to be loved.  I may never fully understand the laws of the universe, but I know how to administer a band-aid (always with a kiss), cheer up a first grader after a rough day at school (always with a cookie and milk), and bring life to a gray winter day (always with hot chocolate and a stack of library books.)  There are many truths I have yet to discover, many theories I have yet to prove, but the few truths I have learned are enough to love the people around me, and for me that's enough.  The greatest truth I have learned is that I am here on this earth to better learn how to love others.  Isaac Newton once said, "We build too many walls and not enough bridges."  Guess he was a pretty smart guy after all.