Tonight I'm thinking about what is important, and what I want to walk away with at the end of my life, or at the end of every day for that matter. My greatest source of guilt at this point in my career of existence is the amount of time I spend with my kids.
It's Saturday, the first day off after five nearly-10-hour days at work. I got out of bed around 8:30 am... a late start for me. Over the course of the day I spent 3 hours working for my second job, about an hour doing various household tasks and another hour or so keeping my kids engaged in household tasks and/or homework. That accounts for 5 of the waking hours. We went to visit a relative in the hospital who was ill... that was an hour. I was with my kids during that time, so I guess that counts for something. I made them lunch but ate mine in my room because I didn't care to hear Phineas and Ferb during my first authentic leisure period of my day.
My kids alternated between playing down the street with friends or in our own front yard, video games and 3DS's, iPad Touch Zoo, iPhone Chess and reruns of Looney Toons. Where did the day go? And where was I?
I took my daughter with me to get the car washed. I played chess with my oldest son. I sat by the crackling chiminea with my middle child while he fell asleep after cornbread and a chocolate bar (that's another story). It just never seems like it's enough. With the kids, I mean.
It could be blamed on my busyness... two jobs. Well, two-and-a-half jobs, really, if you count that my main job takes much more energy than I have budgeted for it. Then there's the house, meals, laundry, yada yada. (Oh yeah, I spent about an hour weeding the back yard and the herb garden). But what breaks my heart is that I really am not very playful, so when I do have time, I don't default to doing fun things with my kids. I'm good at telling them what to do, taking them with me on errands, or going out to eat. But the whole quality time thing seems to require so much more energy that I ever have at hand.
I do my best to communicate my love for them, but all too often I have to redirect or correct them and sometimes it seems that is the vast majority of my interaction with them. So what's a mom to do?
Sometimes I think maybe they don't notice, maybe they don't necessarily have expectations and they just think their family life is what it is. Sometimes I wonder if they'll want anything to do with me when they turn 12 or 13, if I don't lay some kind of foundation of 'the party's here' for them to come running home to. Sometimes I think it's too much to expect parents to be life trainers and entertainers all at the same time.
So I sit here at the end of a day like today and think, "Did I let my kids know that I love them?" I'm not as irritable as I used to be. I gently explain and guide them more than I yell out exasperated commands... a vast improvement from my parenting style a few years ago. And bless their hearts, my kids are really resilient. They don't seem half as rattled by my behavior as I am. And at the end of the day, they give me a kiss and put their heads on their pillows and fall asleep.
I can only keep trying to be the best mom I am capable of being, communicate my love and value for them in every way I can, and start each day with the objective of showing them the ropes in this crazy little thing called life. I'm not completely satisfied with my performance, but in recognizing my own imperfections, I find myself willing to make more allowances for theirs, reducing the pressure on all of us. It sucks that when you've finally had time to figure out this parenting thing, your kids are grown and you're moving on to a new chapter in life.
I choose to savor these moments, these precious days, imperfect as I am fumbling through them, and treasure my kids. Maybe if that's my mindset, through the busyness and the two-and-a-half jobs and the housework and the homework... some of my value for them will come through, and they'll grow up knowing that their mom really does--really truly with a tower of whip cream and a cherry on top--love them more than anything or anyone or any whatever else. For always.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
Who Knew
When I met my husband, it was plain to see that he was a fun-loving, marginally mischievous and pleasantly adventurous personality. It was not until we had been married for a year or two that I began to learn more about his history as a blatant non-conformist. And as recently as this weekend, I received yet another glimpse of his past persona that bucked institutional standards and administrative 'say-so'. It makes sense, knowing him as I do now, that he is a hard-wired free thinker. Don't tell him 'this is how it is' unless you are prepared for a challenge. His processes of independent thought take on more adult and mature expression now (thank goodness), and obviously he is subjected to fewer impositions of authoritative overlords than he was growing up in private school, so the opportunities to rebel are fewer and farther between.
What is becoming more and more hysterical to me is that he and I ended up together. If opposites do indeed attract, then I suppose it makes perfect sense. I was in every respect of my childhood and young adulthood, a rule keeper. For every situation in which I found myself, my first internal question was, "What are the guidelines? By what standard am I to abide?" Just give me the parameters, and I would stay neatly inside them. It was the rules that made me feel safe; it was keeping the rules that made me feel okay about myself. I was the quintessential delight of every teacher, chaperone, employer and youth worker I ever knew. And of course, I brought my parents nothing if not uncompromised joy and scintillating satisfaction.
The problem one encounters when one constantly seeks the 'appropriate and acceptable' steps of action before making any decisions is that one inadvertently abdicates the power of choice to the proximally nearest and most influential predecessor. It seemed I could find a way to agree with almost anyone's point of view in any discussion. I often felt hypocritical, because with whomsoever I found myself, I was doomed inevitably to be the agreeable, acquiessing comrade. I was paralytically impaired whenever in the position of having to make a judgment call. I rocked at lego-structure building kits, with all their detailed instructions, and perfectly executed the step-by-step directions.
Behold the dawning of a new day... the turning of the proverbial tide... the unanticipated and altogether unsolicited toss-ed-ness together with my alter ego: an out-of-the-box, the-world-is-my-playground, intensely confident, unscrupulously self-assured anarchist of social convention. He would indeed be a thorough menace to society if it were not for the fact that he is a truly good person who never uses his powers for evil.
I had no idea the impact his life would have on mine. And I'm certain if we had known each other earlier in life, we would never have fallen for each other, being polarized by our extreme differences in fundamental practice. At the beginning of our relationship I was a bit dominated, not because he victimized me but because I naturally assumed the role of the subservient follower. Over time I began to question his omniscience and started expressing differences of opinion. I began a campaign of self-advocation. I may have been a peacemaker by nature, but I wasn't an idiot, and I was actually capable of independent thought when I chose to exercise it.
The next few years were frought with conflict, as butted the heads of 'I-don't-really-think-so' and 'because-I-said-so' in our respective mentalities. But, thanks be to goodness, this man truly did love me, and strong though his determination was to be validated in everything, he cared enough that something was important to me to open his mind to another way of thinking. He could easily have preyed upon my misgivings and lack of confidence; but instead he prioritized me above his own pride... and he chose to respect me.
And the most amazing thing happened. I began to respect myself. I began to think maybe there were inclinations inside of me that didn't need to be filtered and reengineered before being delivered to the world. Instead of thinking about my life in terms of what I 'should' do, I began to look inside and see what it was I 'wanted' to do. This new adventure in self determination has presented it's own challenges. Things aren't as neat and tidy when the path is not already prescribed. But that is another blog.
I am so deeply thankful that I married an open-hearted, unencumbered dreamer who keeps teaching me to open my arms wide to all of life's possibilities. I still have a respect for rules and have not swung so far as to lose the perspective of their importance. But they are not my master, and convention is no longer my limitation. It's a good start. We'll see where we go from here.
What is becoming more and more hysterical to me is that he and I ended up together. If opposites do indeed attract, then I suppose it makes perfect sense. I was in every respect of my childhood and young adulthood, a rule keeper. For every situation in which I found myself, my first internal question was, "What are the guidelines? By what standard am I to abide?" Just give me the parameters, and I would stay neatly inside them. It was the rules that made me feel safe; it was keeping the rules that made me feel okay about myself. I was the quintessential delight of every teacher, chaperone, employer and youth worker I ever knew. And of course, I brought my parents nothing if not uncompromised joy and scintillating satisfaction.
The problem one encounters when one constantly seeks the 'appropriate and acceptable' steps of action before making any decisions is that one inadvertently abdicates the power of choice to the proximally nearest and most influential predecessor. It seemed I could find a way to agree with almost anyone's point of view in any discussion. I often felt hypocritical, because with whomsoever I found myself, I was doomed inevitably to be the agreeable, acquiessing comrade. I was paralytically impaired whenever in the position of having to make a judgment call. I rocked at lego-structure building kits, with all their detailed instructions, and perfectly executed the step-by-step directions.
Behold the dawning of a new day... the turning of the proverbial tide... the unanticipated and altogether unsolicited toss-ed-ness together with my alter ego: an out-of-the-box, the-world-is-my-playground, intensely confident, unscrupulously self-assured anarchist of social convention. He would indeed be a thorough menace to society if it were not for the fact that he is a truly good person who never uses his powers for evil.
I had no idea the impact his life would have on mine. And I'm certain if we had known each other earlier in life, we would never have fallen for each other, being polarized by our extreme differences in fundamental practice. At the beginning of our relationship I was a bit dominated, not because he victimized me but because I naturally assumed the role of the subservient follower. Over time I began to question his omniscience and started expressing differences of opinion. I began a campaign of self-advocation. I may have been a peacemaker by nature, but I wasn't an idiot, and I was actually capable of independent thought when I chose to exercise it.
The next few years were frought with conflict, as butted the heads of 'I-don't-really-think-so' and 'because-I-said-so' in our respective mentalities. But, thanks be to goodness, this man truly did love me, and strong though his determination was to be validated in everything, he cared enough that something was important to me to open his mind to another way of thinking. He could easily have preyed upon my misgivings and lack of confidence; but instead he prioritized me above his own pride... and he chose to respect me.
And the most amazing thing happened. I began to respect myself. I began to think maybe there were inclinations inside of me that didn't need to be filtered and reengineered before being delivered to the world. Instead of thinking about my life in terms of what I 'should' do, I began to look inside and see what it was I 'wanted' to do. This new adventure in self determination has presented it's own challenges. Things aren't as neat and tidy when the path is not already prescribed. But that is another blog.
I am so deeply thankful that I married an open-hearted, unencumbered dreamer who keeps teaching me to open my arms wide to all of life's possibilities. I still have a respect for rules and have not swung so far as to lose the perspective of their importance. But they are not my master, and convention is no longer my limitation. It's a good start. We'll see where we go from here.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Hello, Web
A first blog post for someone of my age and situation is, I'd imagine, somewhat akin to a baby's first steps. Nothing particularly astounding about the venture itself, as many all across the world have already succeeded in the act. Nevertheless, for me, it is a celebrated accomplishment, as I am averse to new activities and most particularly those with a technological element. Thank goodness for the young minds of our day that move with such lithe grace between media tools and interfaces of social interaction that they create for the less mentally pliable the illusion of simplicity.
So here I am, tottering my way into the realm of web-facilitated communication. As the name of the blog implies, the intent of this platform is to pontificate on whatever issue or experience or societal occurrence seems relevant at any given moment, and hopefully to draw some meaning and purpose out of it all. It's fun to talk; blogging is talking; ergo, blogging must be fun.
Quick sidebar: I had a heck of a time securing an available identity that incorporated the word "pastiche", which tells me the idea of talking profusely about everything and anything is a common motive for this sort of thing. Score one for the baby blogger. I guess I made it from the armchair to the coffee table. We'll see where we go from here.
So here I am, tottering my way into the realm of web-facilitated communication. As the name of the blog implies, the intent of this platform is to pontificate on whatever issue or experience or societal occurrence seems relevant at any given moment, and hopefully to draw some meaning and purpose out of it all. It's fun to talk; blogging is talking; ergo, blogging must be fun.
Quick sidebar: I had a heck of a time securing an available identity that incorporated the word "pastiche", which tells me the idea of talking profusely about everything and anything is a common motive for this sort of thing. Score one for the baby blogger. I guess I made it from the armchair to the coffee table. We'll see where we go from here.
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