My oldest son, Nathan, is a wonderful kid. He is advanced for
his age, bright, alert and sweet-natured. During the first
year, we were completely besotted over him. He was clean,
well cared for and everyone prophesied a bright future for
this child.
Now that he is eighteen months old, my husband and I seem to
have turned into his slaves. Morning, noon and night, we are
at `his lordship's' beck and call. If we don't give in to his
every whim, he is likely to scream incessantly, as if the
world were coming to an end. Such a tiny child, yet such a
tyrant. I always dreamed of well-disciplined children who
respected their parents but at this rate, what is going to be
with him? We do try to stand up to him in this war of
attrition, but he is stronger than we are!
My fifteen-year-old daughter Shira is a paragon. She has
yiras shomayim, is hard working, kind, clever, good
natured and popular. However, she has one fault which bothers
me. Her bedroom looks as if an earthquake hit it; her drawers
and cupboard are in perpetual disarray, as a result of which
she wastes many hours just trying to find things. How is such
an untidy person ever going to run a home? I feel that if she
would only try a little harder, she could become absolutely
perfect and overcome this one flaw.
Penina finished seminary with excellent grades and married
the kind of man she had always wanted. A true Ben Torah who
didn't waste a minute of his time. She tried to find a
teaching job and to her dismay, nobody was interested in her
wonderful report cards and recommendations. Her only recourse
was to look after the children of neighbors who went out to
work. Moreover, because money was so tight, her young husband
joined an evening kollel, and only came home for a
bite to eat, going straight out again till very late at
night.
Penina was forced to go to simchas on her own and was
unhappy and frustrated at having to forgo much of the
pleasures of her life before she got married. What had
happened to the wonderful life her teachers had portrayed for
those fortunate ones who helped their husbands advance in
learning?
Disappointments are an integral part of life and befall all
of us at some time or other. Some of the major causes of
disappointment are erroneous expectations. The first grader
who came home in tears from school and explained to his
mother that the teacher had said first thing in the morning,
"Sit here for the present," and then had forgotten to give
him his `present' is a good example of mistaken hopes. When a
person builds up hopes and deludes himself with unrealistic
anticipation, disappointment will arrive in full force in the
cold light of reason.
No doubt Nathan's mother dreamt about her future offspring
when she was still a young girl. They would be clean, tidy
and obedient at all times! This worked well during his first
year, when, as Chazal tell us, an infant is like a king. They
draw a far less flattering comparison for the child in his
second year, when his chief delight is rooting around in dirt
and mud.
The mother's hopes were unrealistic and she will just have to
change. The child is acting his age. Perhaps in future years,
he will at times live up to her expectations.
A woman who waited a number of years for her first child
imagined that when she finally got children, life would be
perfect. After she finally conceived, she found out that all
her sincere gratitude and joy could not minimize the
discomfort, pain and the dificulties of child rearing.
Parents who accept the fact that although there are moments
of pure pleasure and nachas, being a parent is no
sinecure, will not feel let down.
Shira's mother, who depicts her almost perfect daughter, with
just one fault, is making a big mistake. Nobody in this world
is perfect. We have to work on ourselves till the end of our
days. Someone once consulted his Rov about an absolutely
perfect boy who had been suggested as a shidduch for
his daughter. The Rov advised him against it, saying that
perfect people are not long for this world!
Everyone knows that he himself is not perfect. We all have
faults. Thus, our expectations for partners for our children
should be pragmatic, weighing up the pros and cons, whether
the faults are such that can be overlooked, in the same way
as we hope our own children's shortcomings will be
discounted. When we hear of a perfect shidduch for our
child, we might have to delve for the defect -- there has to
be one -- and decide with the candidate for marriage, as one
does with more obvious faults, whether s/he can live with it
or not.
If a girl is old enough to get married, she must know the
score about the work-force and the slim chances of finding
permanent employment. Together with her teachers, Penina
built castles in the air which were not about to come to
fruition. Girls must know that money will be tight and
boredom might set in for a while if they marry a true Ben
Torah. They cannot expect him to take them out at night, nor
can they expect riches to rain down on them from Heaven. They
should be taught ahead of time that if they want a social
life and maybe plenty to live on, perhaps they should forgo
the privilege of marrying a Ben Torah. If they know this in
advance, they will not be disappointed.
Raising one's hopes too high is often a cause for great
anguish. Whether it is going to a new place of work, a new
school, a new life by getting married, things will not change
radically unless we change ourselves first. A sick person who
consults a doctor cannot expect him to manufacture an instant
cure, even if he did spend a fortune by going privately.
Incidentally, these hopes for instant cures have given rise
to quacks and charlatans who take our money and promise to
fulfill our unrealistic optimism. By being honest with
ourselves and with others, we will save ourselves much
heartache.
