Stupendous Infinity
Reverse psychology. One of the oldest tricks in the parenting book. For good reason. It works like a charm. Right up until it doesn’t anymore.
Most nights, when I put my twin third graders to bed, I’ll tell them I love them (not reverse psychology) and then, on my way out of their bedroom1, I nonchalantly encourage them to “Have medium dreams!” It’s my reverse-psychology version of “sweet dreams”, very much designed to get the reaction it gets, which is some version of “NO! I WILL HAVE AMAZING DREAMS!”
“Look, please just have, like…OK dreams,” I’ll counter while doing the so-so gesture with my wavering hand outstretched.
“NO! SUPERB DREAMS!”
Then I’ll start in again with something like, “maybe think about having dreams that are…just good enough” and before long they’ll be listing superlative adjectives, enumerating the kinds of amazing dreams they’ll have with no breaths so that I can’t cut in to interrupt. Lately, my favorite answer has been “STUPENDOUS INFINITY” which is intended to end the conversation. And it typically does.
A similar conversation takes place when I drop them off for school. I pretend to be trying to temper their expectations, to tamp down their joie de vivre.
”Have a medium day!”
”I’m gonna have an AMAZING DAY!”
”How about just have a day that’s mostly fine? Don’t get too carried away with it?”
”STUPENDOUS INFINITY!”
The door slams as they smile their way into school.
Oh, the power of defiance.
Look at all the sports teams that, even as they cut down the championship nets or as a cocktail of champagne and winners’ confetti rains down around them, proclaim, “NOBODY BELIEVED IN US!” to whatever microphone is thrust in their faces. (Even if it’s not necessarily or even remotely true2 sometimes.)
There’s just something in human nature that’s so satisfying about accomplishing (or even just doing) something in defiance to what is expected or asked. I think there’s a buzz to rebellion, but it’s dwarfed by the buzz of accomplishing something someone said you couldn’t. It’s like the positive inverse of rebellion?
The sports teams might even artificially (subconsciously? purposely?) create the situation. “Us Against The World,” they say. Never mind that, in the case of, say, an NFL team, pitting yourself against the World couldn’t be semantically less true of a story, given that American football doesn’t even air in entire countries of the world. But, as Mary Gauthier once taught me in a songwriting class, “don’t let the facts get in the way of the truth.” Maybe that’s the wrong quote here. Anyway, the psychology of it is motivating. It works.
Of course, there are times when a scrappy team genuinely defies the odds3. When the press or fanbase or whoever has been outspoken about their general unbelief. True underdogs.
But mostly? “Nobody believed in us” is a motivational tactic.
There’s a piece of my DNA that I believe comes from my mother’s side (mostly because it’s come up frequently when talking to more than a couple of my cousins on that side) that has a very, um, strong reaction when being told what to do:
DON’T.
That’s the gist of it. I suspect it’s not uncommon, this desire to not be bossed around, least of all by people we don’t perceive to have the bona fides.
If I’m being honest, it has worked against me in the past. Because it doesn’t really matter if you “don’t like someone’s tone” or think the person’s an imbecile, if said Imbecile With Unpleasant Tone is saying something correct. Defiance in that case is just hurting yourself. Taking the imbecile title for yourself.
It’s not my most charming trait. I’m working on it. (Just don’t TELL ME to work on it.)
Back to my kids. Even detecting that Dad Is Just Playing, they defy.
Maybe I’m setting myself up for some doozies in their teen years, when the days of reverse psychology are in the rearview yet I’ve made defiance a fun and playful thing and then they decide to rebel for real, with higher stakes and scarier stuff than “having excellent dreams” or “having the best day ever.” But I don’t think that’s how this will go (crosses fingers).
For now, my playful pluck of their defiant DNA simply sends them to bed (or to school) with just a bit extra motivation to be happy.
To consciously seek, in the words of Elliott, STUPENDOUS INFINITY4.
Or under-the-stairs nook, in the boy’s case. Since Christmas, he has laid claim to a little mouse house space we have beneath the stairs, Harry Potter-style but by choice. He first set up his new science kit there, but soon began amassing books and other detritus and calling it his “lab.” One night, we let him take a pillow and blanket in and sleep there because, surely, he would soon be crawling back to the comfort of his mattress and bed. But, no, it’s now May and he has no intention of going back to his bedroom. His commitment is incredible. It’s definitely one of those I Will Miss It When This Ends eras of my/his life.
The Chiefs’ Travis Kelce saying that nobody believed the Chiefs could win a Super Bowl (when they had been to two of the last three Super Bowls AND were led by a two-time MVP) is just one example of 54,900 Google results.
US Hockey’s Miracle on Ice in 1980
Villanova shocks Georgetown in the 1985 NCAA Basketball final
Jeremy Lin’s incredible stretch of playing during his Linsanity era with the New York Knicks
Leicester City winning the 2015-16 Premier League title (at 5000-to-1 odds!)
Rulon Gardner defeating the Russian Bear in the 2000 Olympics
Buster Douglas taking down Mike Tyson, 1990
Paul Jacobsen completing his 46th Substack post, 2023
Don’t even think of stealing Stupendous Infinity as your bandname. It’s already taken. BY ME. Also, every time he says it, I think of the Big Thief song “Spud Infinity”, which is such a weird song with its jaw harp and its playful nature, especially in contrast to the intensity of a lot of the previous Big Thief albums.
Come for the parenting tips, stay for the Big Thief references