When you are pregnant, you have time to imagine all the things you're going to do with your child, all the things you want for them, all the ways you want to prepare them for a great life. It's a pretty idealistic time. And then the bundle of joy actually arrives and since no kid ever screams for Daddy in the night, you suddenly have a lot less time to make all of those things happen.
I live with this kind of megaphone effect (that's what I call it, but there's probably a diagnosis for it somewhere). It's like this: If Olivia does something small (mouthpiece end of the megaphone) like say, disrespect her dad, I immediately magnify that offense into a HUGE end-life consequence that means she can't keep a job as a grown up because she disrespects everyone. See? Small lie becomes Ponzi Schemer. New bikini = stripper. Everything is put through this ridiculous magnifying filter and it's exhausting really, and also completely unfair because I know Olivia and the likelihood of her becoming a Ponzi scheming stripper who can't keep a job is very slim. On the flip side, all small positive events have the potential to influence great future actions as well. That's the good part I guess.
If I have an example of awful parenting, it would be demonstrated in my addiction to the Dance Mom's phenomenon. Have you seen this show? As far as I'm concerned, it's the only good thing the Lifetime Channel has invested in since Tori Spelling quit making movies with them so that's saying a lot. I'm not sure I've seen a worse example of parenting than this show. These women sit all day at their children's dance rehearsals and compare them and compete with one another. They are catty and mean, but they hide their own ambition behind claims that they want their children to achieve their dreams. It's truly horrible (if by horrible you mean AWESOME to watch), but it's not that far from what you can find here too probably. The poor kid is dancing her ass off and MOM feeds off all the glory. It's a lot of pressure for a child to imagine they are responsible for their parent's success and happiness in the world. It's not hard to end up there, though. It just starts with a little pride in your child's honest accomplishments and apparently ends with sequins, scattered tutus and lots of yelling (New episodes in June!!!).
My point is, the day to day of actual mothering can get in the way of the great goals we were hoping to help the little angels achieve. I mean, since 2000 I've not had a lot of rest really because I'm in charge of everything from homework to teaching the value of good foundation garments to a human who has an agenda of her own. I'm supposed to make sure that while I'm cooking a healthy dinner I cover making sure this kid knows the basics of geometry, bike riding, green vegetables AND fit in things like mascara application and internet safety. And those things are nothing when you compare them to the real things I wanted for her when I was pregnant. Can you fit in lessons on how to be a friend, how to have a friend, how to generate an endless curiosity in the world, how to find joy in generosity and spirituality if you are stuck worrying about things like Red dye #5, whether you have tissues and tic-tacs for church, and lactose intolerance? Hardly. And at age 11, we haven't even covered lessons in career ambition, picking the right partner and never taking your clothes off for the camera.
Needless to say, I've changed my expectations for how this process would go. I mean, some days my only goal is to have neither of our kids living with us past their college graduations. So far we are doing pretty well on that, but as we've discussed, just about anything can happen. It's not like this guy's mom thought this would happen:
And we all know who gets blamed when your kid ends up miserable. M-O-M. Ask any therapist. It's their bread and butter. I've been spending a lot of time thinking about this lately and really, if there are still gonna only be 24 hours in a day, there's hardly enough time to cover everything before the baby birds take flight. Panic panic panic.
The only remedy I've been able to find is this: Your example might be your insurance if you don't want them to live in your basement when they are 30. You've only got a few hours a day to SAY things, but you've got way longer to DEMONSTRATE things. For instance, can I expect my child to cultivate 5 good friendships if she hears me trashing my friends on the phone? Can I expect her to have confidence if I undermine my own all day long? Can I expect her to be curious about the world and develop ambition if I am focusing only on what reality show is in front of me tonight? I can't. It sucks, but it's true. Hear me on this, though, friend: It's all we've got. She turned 11 in the blink of an eye so it's really all hands on deck at this point. Our example is our saving grace, our ace in the hole if you will, and it's also the best investment in everyone around us.
People say all the time they'd lay down their lives for their children, but you probably won't be asked to do that since there aren't a lot of bears or sharks in North Georgia. You can say you live for them, but that seems like a lot of pressure for a kid. It's so simple, really, that I can't believe we missed it: Make your life something your child could aspire to and maybe they will. Make YOUR life a spiritual example, an example of friendship, and one of generosity and hard work so they can witness it. And for God's sake quit drinking so damn much. Soon enough they will sniff out every inconsistency between what we've said we value and what we actually live and that's when the tutus start flying friends.
The great news is that there's still time! Maybe we've been following them around with the tissues so much that we forgot our part in it or maybe it's because we're afraid for ourselves, but whatever the reason, we've got to get out there and actually start being what we want them to become, sister. And while we're at it, let's make sure our girls all know the importance of a good foundation garment and a little mascara.
This is prizewinning stuff, Lori. The only prize of consequence of course being that your daughter notices your good example. Not a tiara or anything.
ReplyDelete9-11 years old is a great time to take stock of what we've wrought. Could our mothers-of-a-0-2-year-old selves have heard this? What biological cocktail renders us so blind to our incongruities while convincing ourselves that what we SAY will bring about the desired fantasy result? It is only when we sense the dawning of their adult-ish consciousness (and hopefully then) that we fear that light shining on us.
A particularly good morning to see the results of that sad super-hero's mother's work. (And WHY are women so hard on each other? We could be allies, couldn't we?) The Avengers cranked up my boys' fantasies over the weekend quite awesomely. But it's Monday morning and my son had to apologize to a friend for accidentally creating a red mark on his neck. I'm all for apologizing. Over and over, all day long. But (sorry, there's a BUT). The stew of comparing and competing and manipulating that all 3rd graders live in can be bitter. (And face it, all of us swim in it.)
Where are the transcendent moments that our investments should yield? OK not to despair too dramatically. It is a LONG row to hoe for all the boys and girls. You are right, there is still time!
What I need is a weekend away with the girls. Hmmm.....
Have you considered starting a blog? We have SOOOO much to discuss. We will start with the superhero topic and move from there?
DeleteSo he apologized for making the red mark, per all the adults' recommendations to help set my misguided boy on the right path, and the other kid goes, "thanks. I accept your apology. And I'm sorry for punching you in the arm, too." In my head I'm screaming, WHAT?? This is news! No one batted emails around parsing the implications of your actions that day, friend!
ReplyDeleteOnce again I despair too dramatically. Keeping one's existential angst to oneself is generally more productive. Thanks for your encouragement though, strangerlori. Superheroes are surely where it's at. But I'm content to reply and have a girls' weekend.