One on One

You'll never regret the time you spend together

I’m writing this from a hotel room in Kansas City, Missouri, with a blizzard outside and a hotel full of bagpipers and drummers in workshops downstairs. I’m here with my bagpiper who was competing in his first grade 3 piping competition, in what is arguably the most influential solo piping weekend in North America.

I have been privileged to travel alone with each of my kids - usually to do something they’re interested in, but sometimes to accompany me for a book event - and those trips are some of the most important milestones in our relationships.

I’ve written before about the trip around the world I took with my dad when I was twelve, and how impactful that was on me. The trip both of my kids took with their Grammy is the one they’ll remember their whole lives as well. The Antarctica adventure came up in conversation between my piper and a mentor last night as they discussed the colleges with piping scholarships, and the opportunities that different schools will offer. He’ll remember that conversation when he thinks about this weekend at Winter Storm (the name of the piping and drumming event and the weather conditions outside), and he’ll remember the 4th place finish he got in a category of 23 of the country’s best grade 3 pipers. He’ll think about the lessons from the world class teachers he’s getting today, and he’ll even remember bundling up to walk five minutes to the restaurant with the best shrimp and grits we’ve ever had.

My part in this weekend will be chaperone and cheerleader and photographer. It’ll be mom who points out people for him to talk to, and Mom (said with an eye-roll) who strikes up random conversations with his heroes. And ultimately, my part in this weekend is the shared experience. I’m the one person who really understands what his Winter Storm weekend was like, I’ll be the person who gets it when he reflects on a conversation with the Pipe Major of a World Championship band who remembered his name, and I’ll understand his cringe at the memory of the phrase he repeated during his solo Piobaireachd competition.

I’m the one who FaceTimed his teacher for help tuning, and who’s fearless about talking to Instructors about a project he’s working on. I’m also the one he iced out when he was processing his note errors and reading his sheets, and the mom he didn’t want to hang out with before a workshop. But ultimately, I got to hear those precious words, after the disappointment about competition results had faded and the perspective had set in, whispered late at night when the lights were out just as I was falling to sleep, “thanks for your support, Mom.”

The one on one moments don’t have to be trips, they can be Nutella and toast “tea time” after reading an English children’s mystery series out loud. They can be bread baking and afternoon dog walks, conversations side by side in the car, and favorite shows binge-watched together. They can be trips to the craft store and visits to Costco for the tasters, or the purchase of a favorite tea just because. Reading out loud was my favorite way to connect when my kids were young, and games of Yahtzee with my grandmother, rolling dice while catching up on my college experiences was a favorite connection of my own.

We make time to connect with our partners one on one, but making one on one plans with our kids is more than just logistical alone time. It has to be deliberate and intentional for them to understand that its special. “I was thinking about you, so I made your favorite thing,” or “Let’s go for a walk and you can tell me about what you’ve built in Minecraft.” That’s what makes one on one trips so easily meaningful - they feel like they’re on purpose, and there’s no other place either of you could be than there, alone, together.

I met a man with nine kids (sounds like the beginning of a tongue twister) this weekend, and my first, second, and third thoughts were all about how someone could manage life with nine children - now adults and teens. But then I wondered what it was like to be child number five or six in that line-up. Everything was shared - every single experience almost certainly involved at least one other sibling. Even in my family of two kids, the default has always been to do things together, which makes that one on one time with a parent, particularly when it’s deliberately planned and intentional, even more meaningful for both of us. Spending time with each of my kids alone has created bonds between us that we don’t share with anyone else, references that only we can understand, and memories that won’t require explanations.

We’ll go home to make-up homework and early morning grumpiness and resistance to practice - in other words, normal life - but the next time Shrimp and Grits is an option on a restaurant menu, we’ll both think back to the ones he had at Rye in Kansas City, and we’ll share a raised eyebrow of question (could it possibly compare?) and then a shrug (doesn’t matter, we know what the best tastes like) before we dig in.