Marbles in the Marble Jar

We have a marble jar in our house, and the kids win prizes by filling it up for cooperation, good behavior, and sometimes, just because we love them and give them extra marbles for no reason at all.

It holds 117 marbles, and they fill it to the top every week-and-a-half to two weeks. There's no purpose or numeric, Kabbalistic mysticism to 117 marbles. That just happens to be the number of marbles that fit in the jar, without a bunch of marbles spilling over onto my carpet where I'll almost assuredly step on them in the dark and say swear words. 117 is maximum marble jar capacity, so that's how you get, to quote 2012 J2.

The prizes range from the very ordinary (a Saturday movie or new earrings at the mall), to the very fashionable (new skinny jeans or a new dress), to the gotta-have-it, heart's desire (a new Arsenal league soccer ball, a trip to Adventuredome, or God help us all, fur-lined boots).

At 7 and 8, J1 and J2 have not yet discovered these are all things we'd buy them anyway. There's nothing better than having your kids feel extra special with prizes that are just the normal, everyday business of life. There's no better day in my house than the one where I say, "What should our next prize be?" and they both shout out, "New shoes, new shoes!" and little do they realize, they've grown another size, so those were on my necessary To-Do list anyway. I believe, my friends, that's called an automatic Win-Win.

I bought the marbles at Wal-Mart, and they're pretty spiffy jar-fillers. We call them marbles, but they're really not. You couldn't shoot a game with them. Like us, they're not round and smooth yet. Like us, they're rough and sharp and they're crazy-sparkly like gems. I got them in the fish tank section. They're diamond-shaped, see-through, shiny and colorful. They're blue and red and yellow and pink and orange. They're diverse and different, like we are too. It's a pretty marble jar. It catches the sunlight. It gets prettier and prettier as victories mount and we fill it up together. I guess you really can't wish for anything more than that, right? Victories you fill up together?

We're pretty generous with the marbles. Doing homework will get you marbles. Sometimes a marble a page if we're feel magnanimous. Taking your plate to the sink will get you a marble. So will cleaning your room (although this is still mostly an untested theory). Being helpful gets you marbles. Being kind. Getting along. Being cooperative. Treating each other with loving kindness. Handing the last cookie to your sister and saying, "Here, Justice, you can have it." That'll get you a shitload of marbles. Boy, will it ever.

Mostly, marbles are for the times we get caught in the monumental act of respect. For looking beyond ourselves to see the other person sitting next to us. The amazing and beautiful times where no one is doing something good to earn something. The times where you get a marble and you say, "wow, I didn't even see that marble coming." Those are the priceless marbles. The ones you earn for not thinking about you. The ones you earn for thinking about someone else.

J1 and J2 have come so far in these past 17 months with us, it's sometimes hard to believe they're the same kids. From siblings whose default setting was fight and fight often, to the cooperative, sharing, caring duo of now, I almost can't believe it. I am blisteringly proud. I am stunned to watch it unfold.

I posted a video clip to Facebook the other day. They were at Chuck E. Cheese, feeding prize tickets into the ticket-counter machine, and effortlessly, for a minute and a half of video, they cooperatively found a rhythm. They instinctively handed each other tickets, fed them into the machine, didn't fight, didn't push, didn't compete. They just worked with each other with barely a word said, for the common good...them. It was fascinating to watch.

Do they still fight? Oh Lord, yes. They are a brother and sister, 7 and 8, one year apart, and if sibling rivalry didn't rear its ugly head at least once a day and lead to a minor spat or skirmish or two, I think I'd send them to the doctor for a cognitive workup and a blood panel. Big sisters think little brothers are an almighty pain in the ass and I assure you, it's vice-versa. He likes to kick the soccer ball back and forth at breakneck speed, and she likes to sit on it and take her time pondering new self-invented rules like, "okay, this next time, we all close our eyes and whoever gets it first gets a thousand dollars." It drives him up a tree. As far as stylistic pissing contests go, they can still come up with some doozies.

But there's no rage behind it anymore. Whatever life did to these kids to wallop them in the ass, mind and spirit...the worst days are behind them. Some of it is just growing up and growing older, but some of it is pure Them. We don't have to do "Kid of the Day" anymore to see who's turn it is to push the garage door button and turn off the light switch at night. They don't give a shit anymore. Life's too full of other things now.

The constant chorus of "that's not fair!" which haunted us from Day 1 to Day 365 is now just a watered-down, auto-pilot afterthought. There's no heartbreak to it anymore. There is still the occasional sense of injustice and inequity, but it finds its basis in reality now, not knee-jerk reactivity. "Fair" is a word that means something to them now. It is not a egocentric baby-demand. It is a thing that has objectivity and nuances.

I'm so proud of them.

They have grown, and continue to grow into remarkable, beautiful, wonderful-wise children. Life threw them lemons and they made lemonade so sweet we can all taste it. We can spot it from a distance. The anger, the hurt, the uncertainty, the rage...they turned it into hope. And goodness. And possibility. And, if at first they don't succeed? They try, try again. Lord, how they try.

I don't think there is anything more pleasing to the eyes of a father to watch two children whose anger at the world first turned inward to anger at each other, learn how to love each other again, to be best friends for real this time, to rediscover balance, cooperative spirit, and careful respect as they continue to settle into the ever-changing landscape of their lives.

More I cannot wish you, the Scottish blessing says.

Future J1? Future J2? Always love each other. You will never have another friend like your sister. You will never have another friend like your brother.

Never, ever, ever.

They're not even here right now. They're having a playdate at their friend Noya's house. But I just got up and grabbed a handful of marbles and I put it in their jar. I love you kids. And I love watching you love each other. That's my reward. That's my prize.

17 years Adam and I have been together this year. 17 months the kids have been with us this month. 117 marbles. If that's not kismet, well then, get your own jar. Try it yourself.

Meanwhile, our jar keeps filling. These wonderful, crazy-beautiful kids of ours...they beat the odds.

Dad and Daddy. Justice and Justin.

We overflow.