I Will Never

How is your list of “never going to do that” looking?

On my list of “I Will Never,” which is pretty long, is to talk about hip pain at a dinner party.

Now, that I think about it, an “I Will Never” list is that almost always (sometimes within an hour of putting it on the list), a sure-fire indicator that I will do the thing I said I would never do.

The “I Will Never” list is actually the most effective Get it Done list I have ever seen, come to think of it. In my defense, the hip pain at the dinner party was started by two people who recently had hip replacements, and I wanted to be cool, so yadda, yadda, yadda, I went full old person on that topic, describing exercises, activities to avoid and ever so helpful advice for those younger than I. Those younger than I seemed somehow doubtful that they would ever enjoy a fascinating conversation like this. #Innocence.

The first thing I put on the I Will Never list, back when I was a teenager, was I Will Never be as fat as my mom. It’s OK to say this. She knew she was fat, and she knew I said it. Now this particular item gave me some leeway that I have used to my advantage. I am plenty overweight, but not as much as she was. I also watch all of my numbers, except the scale, and everything is well in line, probably because I hike and strength train before I eat a brownie for breakfast.

Actually, I would NEVER eat a brownie for breakfast. Sugar in the morning is just gross, except for that one time on vacation when we added coffee, berries and ice cream to the brownie… so again … the success of the list rages on. (We figured the berries and milk product made it healthier than French toast sopping up syrup.)

Drat. Now I am hungry. Probably because I have hiked, strength trained and not had breakfast yet because if I fast until lunch I feel healthier than the day I ate the brownie for breakfast, which again, is why it was on the I Will Never list in the first place.

So many things have been on that list, goodness. I Will Never write a book. (The sixth one published in October of ’24.) I Will Never join a direct sales company (being in direct sales made me who I am, and I recently joined another). I Will Never eat curry (my favorite throw together, impress my hip pain compatriots, meal is coconut curry with a dash of lime). I Will Never be one of those grandmas (BTW, my grandson is the smartest, funniest, most handsome teen EVER). I Will Never let a dog sleep on my bed (Good grief, she does like her new split king that she shares with us).

My list is almost endless, as yours probably is too, and if we were having dinner, we could talk about hips, debate perfect grandchildren, and spend time recalling how rich our life is simply because we said we would never, and then went ahead and did it anyway. It’s like the list of things that we promised, as young parents, that our children would never do.

My child will never eat sugar, which changed to my child will never eat sugar before noon, which changed to brownies with berries at breakfast, because you were on vacation. How about my child will never act like that? They heard you whisper that little ditty to yourself and found a way, God bless them, to go full-on tantrum right there in church, with God and that judgey-oh-so-perfect mom watching your every move. You get extra points if the child had a rather outspoken, overly helpful grandparent along for the ride. My child will never talk back to me (uh huh). My child will never drive a teacher crazy, cut their own bangs, make a mess in a restaurant, or forget to call me on Mother’s Day. We’ve said it, they’ve done it, and everyone lived to tell.

And that is the point of this little old column of mine. You will live to tell.

Someone may roll their eyes, someone may ask if you have gone off your rocker, someone, and this is what I hope, may hop on your train and do the I Will Never right beside you. What I see, as I take a moment to reflect, is that the I Will Never, My Child Will Never, lists are usually a list of free-wheeling fun. They contain things that we are just a little (or a whole lot) scared of, but things that draw us in anyways. The things we really kind of want to do, the things that may not be the healthiest choice, but maybe the happiest choice. I mean, I’m not as fat as my mom, but I still eat dessert once in awhile, and balance it out with a nice big salad for my next meal.

Life, if I can give you some advice, is not truly lived if your list of I Will Never is longer than your list of “Look What I Tried.” It is great to have boundaries, but I think it is a lot more fun to have guardrails. Boundaries box you in, keep you out, limit the scope of your curiosity, your experience. Guardrails, now those make it so you can go right up to the edge, look over the cliff, and bounce back to the middle of the lane, back where it’s safe, and breakfast includes both carbs for your brain and protein for your muscles fueling the exciting day ahead.

It's the same with children, and grandchildren too. There are boundaries for a reason, but in my experience the best way to learn not to touch a hot stove is to touch an almost hot stove. We learn by figuring out what we can do, what we can’t do, and what exactly is a little too much. Instead of saying My Child Will Never, I learned to say, I wonder what we will learn today? There were a lot of bounces, bruises, ruined shoes and temper moments, but no one lost an eye running with scissors, which is the greatest goal of parenting.

It does not matter how controlled you think you have to be, how young is too young, or how old is too old. Hands wash, stains just need a little Shout, and burns heal. Tired muscles recover, you can make more money, broken hearts mend, and sore hips give us something to talk about at dinner, especially if they are sore because we jumped the boundary of our fear and embraced the lesson we were learning.

It is spring. There are children to encourage, elders to call, and absolutely amazing experiences waiting for you, some of which are probably on your list of I Will Never, which means you might as well try.