On our drive to daycare, school, and work recently (a trio that doesn’t often happen), I had what could best be described as a mini-menty-b (aka a mental breakdown). Why? Mainly over the fact that with the heavy rain, the double drop-off — which also necessitated going the long way from daycare to the office in order to pass the school — and the wild traffic backups our city is becoming notorious for, two of us were going to be late.

Sure, the toddlers were both screaming in the back because they were soaking wet from getting into the car during a torrential downpour and the roads weren’t great but the biggest source of unending frustration for me is how I always feel rushed. Even when I give myself more than enough time, there always seems to be something. And the something this morning? Mostly that my oldest son would be late (again — yesterday, he was out in the morning for an orthodontist appointment).

Mom. Chill. No one cares if I’m late.

This was the resounding comment from my son. Apparently, lots of kids in his high school show up late, making their way to class whenever they happen to get there, and they’re marked either Absent or Present. To a 15-year-old, it’s a black or white situation.

And so, in swooped mom with the grey.

It’s important to note that he is rarely late. He almost always leaves early, enjoying a more leisurely walk to school and time to hang with his friends. F is generally a pretty good kid, and while he’s unlikely to be crowned Top Student any time soon, he does OK.

But, that’s not the point.

As I tried to explain the grey zone, it occurred to me that learning the little, and often nuanced things in life can sometimes be the hardest. The unspoken rules. The “best practices”. The things we might only learn the hard way when something has blown up in our face. And, I found myself wondering how best to teach those little things.

So, I used a very real example for F and explained how me believing that something “didn’t matter” because no one had told me differently almost ruined one of the longest-standing friendships I’d ever had. It was a little thing that compounded into a really big thing. It was something that I thought didn’t matter because I hadn’t been expressly told that it mattered a lot.

I went on to explain the ways I’ve seen things that “don’t matter”. Like the person who was consistently a few minutes late who was let go from a job they were awesome at, simply because they couldn’t be where they were supposed to be. Or the person who didn’t get a job offer because, at the end of their interview, they neglected to ask if they could put their water glass or coffee mug somewhere or didn’t bother thanking the reception staff who’d let them in.

Little things, I told him, matter.

In big ways.

Did it sink in? I don’t know. But I’d love to know… how are YOU teaching your kids the little things?