The two hardest words

I had an interesting glimpse into the human psyche the other night.

Robert and I were playing with Emma in her room, and I reached over to show her one of her toys. As I did, Emma quickly snatched it away from me and said, “No, mommy, that’s mine.” In the process of pulling the toy away, she inadvertently whacked me in the face.

Now, I really should clarify, I don’t believe for one moment that she meant to hit me. Clearly, she was being toddlerifically selfish, but the “injury” was purely accidental. And I should further clarify that this is not standard Emma behavior, lest the readers of this blog think I’ve raised a monster. She’s generally very sweet natured, much like her mother.

Nevertheless, Robert wisely identified this as a situation that needed to be addressed. “Tell your mommy you’re sorry,” he said in a firm, fatherly tone.

Emma immediately stood straight up, arms by her side and clamped down her jaw in stubborn defiance.

After a few moments of silence, Robert repeated the order. “Emma, tell your mommy that you’re sorry.”

Straight face, no response, her eyes firmly locked on the wall.

Robert looked at me, and then turned back to Emma. “Alright then. I guess you’re going to have to go in time out until you can say you’re sorry.”

Now, just to underscore how uncharacteristic this is of Emma, we’ve rarely had to punish her to this point in her life. And coincidentally, it’s never happened while we’ve been home. He turned back to me and we had one of those magical conversations that take place without a single word being uttered. “Where is time out?” my shrug conveyed. “I’m not sure,” his eyes replied. I motioned toward the corner with my head, and he marched her over there.

She stood silently staring at the wall for a minute or so, when Robert went over and gently spun her around. “Are you ready to say you’re sorry?”

No response.

“Emma, all you have to say is ‘I’m sorry.’ It’s easy. Tell your mommy you’re sorry for hurting her.”

No response.

He sighed. “Alright, I guess it’s back to time out.”

Two minutes later. “Now, are you ready to say you’re sorry?”

No response.

“Back to time out.”

Folks, this went on four more times, each following about two minutes worth of time out. It was a rather impressive standoff, and I was genuinely worried we’d be there all night.

Then Robert asked the controversial question one last time, after the sixth and final time out session. I’m still not sure exactly what she said, but we heard the faintest of whispers from Emma’s lips. Actually, I’m not even sure that she said anything, but her lips did move. And then she came and hugged me.

We took it. It was way past bedtime, and we were feeling drained.

Such simple words: I’m sorry. And yet even at two years old, Emma already knows how difficult they are to say.

I was thinking about this encounter with Emma today, as one of my colleagues walked into my office.

Earlier in the day, we had quite the infuriating conversation, and I had been fuming ever sense. He had said the most outlandish, unfair things, and I let them get under my skin. I was angry and discouraged by the whole situation.

So when he walked into my office, he was absolutely the last person in the world I wanted to see. Then he said the two hardest words in the English language.

“I’m sorry.”

Those words are as powerful as they are difficult, and in that moment, my anger instantly vaporized.

“I was wrong,” he said. “I was unfair, out of line, and should have never said the things I did. I apologize.”

Wow.

Weeks from now, I’m sure I will not remember the subject of our dispute. I won’t remember what he said, and I won’t remember why it made me angry. What I will remember is his willingness to make it right. I saw his character more clearly in that moment of reconciliation than I have in all the days when he’s been nice to me.

That’s the kind of transparency I want to have, and the kind of attitude I want to bestow upon my children.

In this world, there will be days we screw up royally. All of us will be at fault at one time or another, and we’re bound to hurt the people around us. In those times, it’s the people of character who will stand out because of their willingness to say, “I’m sorry.”

The World’s Most Super-Interesting Olivetian

You may have heard, my sister Stephanie has been actively campaigning for my attention lately.

Not the regular, sisterly, “I love you; let’s spend some time together” kind of attention, mind you. After all, we converse via phone, e-mail, or Facebook just about every day. Sometimes multiple times a day. No, the attention she desires is much more specific.

You see, I’m the editor of Olivet’s alumni publication, The Olivetian. Stephanie sees this connection as her ticket to glory and fame. And so she uses every opportunity she can to try and convince me why she should be the subject matter for an upcoming alumni feature. She’s blogged about it; she’s talked to friends about it; she’s submitted photos to me for it. I think the next step is a billboard.

Rather than see Stephanie waste her precious time and resources on a mass advertising campaign, I decided to dedicate a blog entry to her. Perhaps it’s not quite as far reaching as ONU’s official publication, but the best I can figure, at least five people read my random ponderings.

And so, Stephanie, a tribute to you…

15 reasons why Stephanie Joan (Quimby) Kumor is my pick for the 2009 World’s Most Super-Interesting Olivetian: *

1. Stephanie has never had a cavity.

2. Stephanie’s left eye (or is it right? I’m sure she’ll correct me) moves back and forth involuntarily when she’s eating.

3. Stephanie is an incredibly loving and hard working mother. Where I would probably spend most of my day lounging around, she spends her days keeping things exciting for Caleb and Thane. On any given day, she’s at the zoo, library, or park with them, or at home playing educational games. No wonder Caleb is brilliant – his mommy is constantly teaching him new things!

4. Stephanie is the utmost authority on shaving devices and products. She has tried everything from wax and sandpaper to bleach and electronic zappers in her quest to find the most painless and effective way to rid her body of unwanted hair.

5. After graduating from ONU, Stephanie worked for a sleep clinic, where she measured the brain activity of patients while they were sleeping. This data was used to confirm or rule out sleeping disorders such as Sleep Apnea. One April Fool’s Day, Stephanie told a patient that if he produced a drop of sweat while sleeping, he would be instantly electrocuted by all the wires.

6. Stephanie is a pickle fiend. She has loved them for as long I can remember and can wipe out a jar in no time. She also adores those pickled peppers you see at salad buffets.

7. Stephanie’s middle name, which is the same as our mom’s, defines phonetic reasoning. Heaven help her the day she gives birth to a girl. She intends on passing the name to a third generation, and Ben insists on making it rhyme with “phone” instead of treating it as two syllables (Jo-an.)

8. Stephanie is a Craig’s List connaisseur. She’s the queen of getting incredible deals on toys and furniture.

9. When she was a child, Stephanie developed a weird, large, purple blob-type growth on the top of her foot. The doctors were fascinated by it, claiming they had never seen anything like it before. It went away as mysteriously as it appeared.

10. Stephanie has always been athletically gifted. She was a fantastic basketball player back in the day, and on our town’s swim team, she could do the breast stroke like nobody’s business. I always enjoyed watching her from the bench.

11. Related, when we lived in Hoopeston, Stephanie once woke up and discovered that the Sweetcorn Festival’s 5K run was beginning directly in front of our house. She threw on a pair of shorts, and decided to give it a try, without any training whatsoever. She was one of the top finishers in her category.

12. In a moment of beautiful creativity today, Stephanie figured out how to turn Leviticus 18:19-20 into a special, Valentine’s acrostic greeting. (Look it up. You won’t regret it.)

13. Stephanie and I are contemplating starting a side business providing baby/toddler attitude tees. Proposed onesie sayings include “Follow me to a hot mama,” “I drool cuz I’m cool” and “Booby: the other white meat.”

14. As a child, Stephanie had her mouth washed out with soap so often that she developed a taste for Dawn.

15. Finally, Stephanie has an extraordinarily gifted sister who just so happens to be the editor of The Olivetian. She is thereby interesting by association.

So, there you have it. Stephanie, I think you’re pretty cool, and I will do my darndest to work you into an upcoming issue.

Just submit a short note, no longer than 50 words, beginning with the announcement of Thane’s birth, and I’m pretty sure I can squeeze it somewhere into Class Notes.

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* The World’s Most Super-Interesting Olivetian contest has no affiliation or impact on the World’s Most Interesting Olivetian annual contest sponsored by Olivet Nazarene University. The similarity in title is purely coincidental and shall not be construed as an endorsement, or prediction of outcome, for the 2009 WMIO contest to be held later this year.