A Reflection on Parenting for Mother’s Day: When Setting a “Bad” Example might be Good

You see one Mayan ruin, you’ve seen them all. There, I’ve said it.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting in an airport terminal in Guatemala City, waiting for a propeller plane to take me to Flores, Guatemala, so my family and I could take a tour of the ruins at Tikal. And I had a bad attitude. 

We never go on trips like this for our kids’ spring break. It’s only a week, and I usually look forward to it as a time of rest. But in February we found a cheap fare, and there we were.

My life partner doesn’t value rest. He always wants an adventure. I like vacation, he likes “trips.” So, we compromise. Half the time exploring ruins and half the time near a lake, to read and watch movies and take boat rides. Ahh . . . 

But first, the adventure. We arrived in Guatemala City very late on a Sunday night and had to get up the next morning at the crack of dawn to go back to the airport for this plane to Flores. I was not thrilled about waking up early and squandering more vacation time in the airport, but it was only a 40 minute flight - we’d have plenty of time for the pool in the afternoon, right?

Except that’s not the way it went. The flight was delayed - a few minutes, then an hour, then another hour. No information was shared about what was happening or when we would leave. We waited for the flight at a gate past security, with no food and no potable water. (We had emptied all of our water bottles to comply with airport protocols.) Sulking, I occupied myself by counting the number of tourists who ignored the sign on the broken vending machine and tried to trick it into dispensing a snack. It didn’t work, not even once.

Eventually, about three or four hours after the flight was scheduled to leave, the airline offered to buy us lunch. Hallelujah, a voucher for lunch. The whole flight of people filed past the security gate to a tiny food kiosk with only two workers, where we waited in a long line for sandwiches. Just as my family made it to the front of the line, an airline representative directed us to go back through security to the gate. So much for lunch.

As I stomped back down the ramp, my oldest child asked me what we were doing. For a split second, I thought about saying something positive or constructive, but then I decided to tell the truth. My truth:

We’re doing nothing. We know nothing, we have no choices, and we are going to follow everyone else down this stupid ramp like sheep because some random person from the airline told us to. And this is a complete waste of time and I don’t even want to go see dumb ruins anyway but I am a good sport, and this is what happens to “good sports.” Any other questions?

Nope.

At 12 and 15, my kids are in their adolescent years; this involves learning to manage big feelings - even over circumstances that are, in the grand scheme of things, inconsequential. It doesn’t help them to have a pollyanna parent who pretends to be too “mature” to express negative emotions. So I made an intentional choice. I thought, they are gonna see me lose it. And then they are gonna see me pull it all back together. 

Because I was gonna pull it back together - eventually. I heard my rational adult brain loud and clear - this is not a big deal. If the worst problem I have is waiting too long in an airport on a vacation, I’ve got no problem at all. 

A few minutes later, we boarded the plane. We skidded over the clouds in that little prop plane as I held my breath and we arrived in Flores and I recovered. I apologized to my family in case anyone thought I was taking up too much space with my bad attitude and complaints, but explained that it was just how I felt. And my son gave me a big hug and said he understood. 

The next morning, we headed to Tikal. Here’s a picture. Now you don’t have to go.

By L. Brown