Baseball. Basketball.  Doesn’t seem to matter.

“There’s no way that kid is the right age.  Can I see a birth certificate?”  Laughter from moms ensues.

I could write about 10,000 words on this subject, but I’m keeping it short and simple. I am a 5’4″ mom to two tall children.  The younger hovers at the top of the infamous growth chart; the older hasn’t been on the chart since the two month check up (the infamous well check visit where the horrified pediatrician told us he was “too big” which led to her imminent firing as pediatrician).   I’ve heard literally every comment ever contrived about the “big kid.”  But by far, the most common thing I hear in the stands at baseball, or basketball, or pretty much anything is…

“Can I see a birth certificate?”

What a clever way of making a point.  (Yeah, okay, that was sarcasm)  It takes enormous self-control not to turn to those people – including fans on our own teams commenting about the big kid on the other team – and say something sarcastic and cutting. Knowing that no one really means anything by it (as I’ve been told, repeatedly) doesn’t really help.  It’s just rude.

May I suggest something to the “average” people of the world, like myself?  We’ve fully embraced that commenting on size regarding kids on the small end of the spectrum is unacceptable and unnecessary, and rightly so.  I suggest we extend that same courtesy to kids who dwarf their peers.  Perhaps that would free us to see the other, more subtle qualities that we hope define them more than something with which they are born, and over which they have no control.  Kindness.  Intensity.  Character.  Thoughtfulness.  Loyalty.  Dedication.  Work ethic.  Spiritual depth.  Hey, maybe we could look for those things in all people…of all sizes…

And in case you don’t take my suggestion…yes, you can see a birth certificate.  It’s in my purse.  Are we good now?

My extended family is full of great qualities and not-so-good qualities, like any other family.  We do many things well.  We do some things kind of poorly.  Many of our traditions are pretty fun – over the past 30 years, our “Candy Bowl” has spawned copycats across the country (although no one can trash talk like we can – and the next generation is learning perfectly how to carry that torch).  But some traditions are more meaningful.  One thing we do beautifully is “going around the table.”

When someone is celebrating a birthday, my family has a tradition of going around the table.  Usually there’s a prompt – “share your funniest memory of so and so” or “tell the first memory you have of so and so.”  Sometimes there is no prompt at all – everyone just gets to share whatever they want about the honoree.

Can I tell you how it usually goes? Granny or Pops decide who will start, and we literally go around the table, in order, and share a thought.   There are always a few giant laughs.  Almost always a few tears.  The truth is, we all love each other very much, just as we are, good and bad.  But there is rarely a good forum to share the specific things we love/remember/treasure, in front of others who are generally giving their “amen” and thus making those things doubly meaningful.  

It means something to hear people who have seen you at your best and worst tell you what makes you different. Special. Unique.  Loved.  Important.  Hearing those words from a table full of all ages is an experience that I cannot describe. I know that the things my family says to me have mileage far beyond the table.  

Most of life is negative, honestly.  People think far more positive things about others than they actually say.  Stop and think for a minute.  Let’s think of sitting in church on a typical Sunday. How many things do you think about those around you, like…

“She looks really beautiful today”

“I’m so glad he went over and talked to that person, I think that’s a visitor and he just made her feel welcome. So cool!”

“When they sing together, it makes it easy to worship.” 

“Every time I see him, he is smiling!”

Now, how often do you actually tell those people what you thought?  

As humans, we are pretty comfortable complaining/judging/”bless her heart”-ing but we are just pathetic at verbally communicating our admiration, to each other’s faces.  Going around the table provides a forum for us to hear the things we need to hear about ourselves.  And it reminds us just how much we love each other.

Need a lift in your family? Try “going around the table.”