Let’s see if I can remember how it went…
My sister and I were riding in a car with my father, who was driving. My sister had just won an award and we were on our way to collect it, all of us in great spirits.
I suddenly realize that my son, L, is somewhere waiting for me to come pick him up, but I am horribly late, and I also have no idea where he is. I can only hope that he will call me on my cellphone, but for some reason it's not working. At this point, a Rogers sales rep arrives with a new phone. I explain to him that I need my phone to be ready for an important call from my son. He tells me that I simply need to activate my new phone and then leaves. I frantically struggle for the next few minutes trying to get my phone to work, but it further breaks into several pieces. My sister and father are unable to help. I am overcome by an awful sinking feeling that L is stranded somewhere, alone and lost. I work on the phone, concentrating hard. I cannot focus on anything but the object of fixing the phone.
And as my body slowly wakes, I struggle to stay asleep so that I can fix the damn phone. I am becoming aware of my bed and the morning light, but my mind is also still trying to put the pieces of the phone together. Finally, I start to understand that I was dreaming, and more importantly, that I don’t need to fix the phone, because L is safe and asleep in the next room. But it takes me a long time. I almost don’t trust myself to turn over onto my other side, to stop thinking about the phone, to accept this new reality.
And the next thing I thought was that this must have been what it was like for my mother in her moments of dementia.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
what in the world?
I've been keeping up with the news. But really, I shouldn't.
What kind of world is this? Bullies in schools driving young people to suicide? Female RCMP officers being sexually assaulted by their partners and harassed by senior officers? Children being molested by teachers? by Cub Scout leaders? by hockey coaches and by Mr. Sandusky. The Roman Catholic Church no longer needs to bear its burden alone. It looks like lots of organizations are trying to cover up their messes.
But after my anger, after my outrage, I'm just feeling drained and cynical.
Then I hear the worst stories. A woman recounts how she was sexually abused by her father. Another describes how his mother used to cut him with a steak knife, when he was three years old. Or a woman who when arrested for beating her...
I couldn't even finish reading it.
I don't know. How is my son going to handle all this, when he finds out about the inhumanities in our society? He can't even stand watching Voldemort, a fictional character, on TV.
One day, he might read this blog, and he will learn that I did have real fears, which I hid from him. For now, whenever he comes across something in the news, I'll say something about bad people and that it'll never happen to him and change the subject. But the fact that it happens to someone else in our society is something I can't reconcile. What do we do? Put our heads in the sand? Acknowledge that there is evil in the world? Fight it? Lock the doors and turn on the alarm system? Pray?
Although I want him to grow up with a positive outlook, there are times when I've felt something much less.
-MO
What kind of world is this? Bullies in schools driving young people to suicide? Female RCMP officers being sexually assaulted by their partners and harassed by senior officers? Children being molested by teachers? by Cub Scout leaders? by hockey coaches and by Mr. Sandusky. The Roman Catholic Church no longer needs to bear its burden alone. It looks like lots of organizations are trying to cover up their messes.
But after my anger, after my outrage, I'm just feeling drained and cynical.
Then I hear the worst stories. A woman recounts how she was sexually abused by her father. Another describes how his mother used to cut him with a steak knife, when he was three years old. Or a woman who when arrested for beating her...
I couldn't even finish reading it.
I don't know. How is my son going to handle all this, when he finds out about the inhumanities in our society? He can't even stand watching Voldemort, a fictional character, on TV.
One day, he might read this blog, and he will learn that I did have real fears, which I hid from him. For now, whenever he comes across something in the news, I'll say something about bad people and that it'll never happen to him and change the subject. But the fact that it happens to someone else in our society is something I can't reconcile. What do we do? Put our heads in the sand? Acknowledge that there is evil in the world? Fight it? Lock the doors and turn on the alarm system? Pray?
Although I want him to grow up with a positive outlook, there are times when I've felt something much less.
-MO
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
That's enough...
Seriously, that's enough.
At 2:30 on a Wednesday afternoon
I suddenly decided
I'd like stop working
I'd like to go home
Right now
So I did
I made up an excuse
And muttered something about checking emails from home
But that was a lie.
I had no intention.
Because I didn't want to.
I'd had enough of work.
But now I wonder
For how long?
enough for today?
this week?
this year?
or just, "enough"
Period.
27 years down,
18 years to go
why now?
why today?
Or perhaps as I asked myself today
Why not ?
At 2:30 on a Wednesday afternoon
I suddenly decided
I'd like stop working
I'd like to go home
Right now
So I did
I made up an excuse
And muttered something about checking emails from home
But that was a lie.
I had no intention.
Because I didn't want to.
I'd had enough of work.
But now I wonder
For how long?
enough for today?
this week?
this year?
or just, "enough"
Period.
27 years down,
18 years to go
why now?
why today?
Or perhaps as I asked myself today
Why not ?
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Growing
I didn't see him slap his friend's face the first time. I only heard M say, "don't slap my face" as we were walking into McDonald's. I immediately told my son to keep his hands to himself, trying to find the right balance between being stern and cool about it, so as not to dampen the atmosphere of our fun little outing. Then later, while chatting with my husband at the table, in my peripheral vision, I saw my boy reach out and slap his best friend's face. It was just a soft swipe, but the idea...I immediately grabbed his arm and with my teeth clenched, I told him to say sorry. "I'm sorry," he said looking at me. Still angry, I told him not to apologize to me, but to M. Then I made it very clear to him that he was NEVER to slap M or anyone else in the face, and if he did, he would suffer the consequences, something like beloved DS would be confiscated for a year. Then I told M to let me know if my son were ever to slap him. My son was immediately rueful and the mood was low for a while, until my husband stepped in to buy the boys ice cream.
A few days later, I participated in my son's walk-a-thon. I stayed in the back, to shepherd the laggers, and thus for 10 km, I followed and watched 32 grade 4 children entertaining each other as they marched along. When I saw one boy slap his friend's face, I realized that this was probably where my son learned it. Again, it was just a soft swipe, between buddies, and the receiver didn't seem to mind, but just laughed. I even wondered if my son ever got his face slapped, and how he dealt with it.
But the real point of this, is that I am realizing that my son is exposed to the antics of his peers and of the world around him - all that shapes him, and makes him the person he is and will become. My husband and I are still an influence of course, and we have his attention because he knows we support him, look after him, and of course love him. He will do things to please us and avoid other stuff if he knows we don't like it. We have expectations and hopes. He knows this too. There may come a time when he rebels against us and everything we value, as he tries to find himself. And I will try to remember not to show disappointment, if there is any, because there may be. Because he is my son, I have expectations. When the other boy slapped his friend's face, I didn't jump in and tell him not to, as I did with my son, because I don't invest my energy with other children as I do with my son. When my son is an adult, I will still love him, and I will not be scolding him any more (Oh god, I hope not), that job will be done. At some point, he will learn to do things to please himself and challenge himself, and not us nor anyone else, as it should be. And when he does, I will remember to be proud.
-MO
A few days later, I participated in my son's walk-a-thon. I stayed in the back, to shepherd the laggers, and thus for 10 km, I followed and watched 32 grade 4 children entertaining each other as they marched along. When I saw one boy slap his friend's face, I realized that this was probably where my son learned it. Again, it was just a soft swipe, between buddies, and the receiver didn't seem to mind, but just laughed. I even wondered if my son ever got his face slapped, and how he dealt with it.
But the real point of this, is that I am realizing that my son is exposed to the antics of his peers and of the world around him - all that shapes him, and makes him the person he is and will become. My husband and I are still an influence of course, and we have his attention because he knows we support him, look after him, and of course love him. He will do things to please us and avoid other stuff if he knows we don't like it. We have expectations and hopes. He knows this too. There may come a time when he rebels against us and everything we value, as he tries to find himself. And I will try to remember not to show disappointment, if there is any, because there may be. Because he is my son, I have expectations. When the other boy slapped his friend's face, I didn't jump in and tell him not to, as I did with my son, because I don't invest my energy with other children as I do with my son. When my son is an adult, I will still love him, and I will not be scolding him any more (Oh god, I hope not), that job will be done. At some point, he will learn to do things to please himself and challenge himself, and not us nor anyone else, as it should be. And when he does, I will remember to be proud.
-MO
Sunday, October 2, 2011
High Maintenance
I talked with my older brother on the phone tonight. At one point the conversation turned to the topic of his adult children. "How is Lynn doing?", I asked. "She's going to be moving back east in November." he said. My voice raised an octave "Wow that's great news. You guys must be happy that she'll be moving closer to home". "We'll see", he said.... She can be high maintenance." He then proceeded to go through a list of criticisms that he obviously has gone through many times before. She's got herself into an unmanageable level of debt despite making a good salary; She spent it all on trips and clothes - has nothing to show; She's a complete slob; She's always worried about her weight; The only problem she's ever had in her whole life is with boyfriends; Most people would love her life but she just takes it all for granted.
How? I ask myself - How can it possibly be that he could speak this way about his own child. How did he ever lose that unconditional love and total admiration that he must have had for her when she was young. It reminded me of someone talking about their ex-spouse. At one time they may have loved them with all their hearts - but then they woke up and saw them for what they really were. The initial love was a complete facade.
But that's just not possible. The initial love for a child is never a facade. In fact it's probably the most real experience we'll ever have in our entire lives. There's something else going on here I think.... A leftover effect of the inevitable separation and rejection that comes when our children enter adulthood. It hurts deeply and yet there is no socially acceptable way to express it. We're supposed to simply let go and be glad for their growing sense of independence. But as with all denied pain, it festers and grows and looks for a new home. Anger always seems to have a vacancy. It's high maintenance though.-AG
How? I ask myself - How can it possibly be that he could speak this way about his own child. How did he ever lose that unconditional love and total admiration that he must have had for her when she was young. It reminded me of someone talking about their ex-spouse. At one time they may have loved them with all their hearts - but then they woke up and saw them for what they really were. The initial love was a complete facade.
But that's just not possible. The initial love for a child is never a facade. In fact it's probably the most real experience we'll ever have in our entire lives. There's something else going on here I think.... A leftover effect of the inevitable separation and rejection that comes when our children enter adulthood. It hurts deeply and yet there is no socially acceptable way to express it. We're supposed to simply let go and be glad for their growing sense of independence. But as with all denied pain, it festers and grows and looks for a new home. Anger always seems to have a vacancy. It's high maintenance though.-AG
Friday, September 23, 2011
Ambition
I work at a very large, institution of higher education and for the last 10 years I’ve reported to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to the president. I guess you could call it 4DS or 4 degrees of separation. But this year, I am in a new position and I now report to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to the president or 3DS. Just one degree of separation closer but I feel as though I am in a completely different world. As it turns out I discover – I am. I am now in a world completely populated with “Type A’s”. That’s “A” for Ambitious.
They are everywhere. They are: In before 8. Not home til’ 6. In back to back meetings every hour of the day, every day of the week – sometimes double or triple booked. Often skipping lunch. Never taking breaks. In on their days off. Unlikely to take all of their vacation in any given year. The number of high priority, urgent, large scale projects on their plate at any given time is absolutely mind boggling. And what’s more mind boggling is that in the midst of that they will often volunteer to take on more work.
Just last week one of our Directors laid out her latest six-month plan at the weekly Directors meeting. There she sat – wide eyed, fresh faced, teethy grin spreading from ear to ear. All listened attentively as she painstakingly laid out the complex array of grandiose priorities, projects and plans. And then at the end – the smile widened just a bit as she declared “This is a very ambitious plan”. And at that moment a simultaneous wave of smiles, nods and approving murmurs spread throughout the room. Yes, yes, said the Vice President – A very ambitious plan. We must give her our full support. Yes indeed was the unanimous reply.
You see, down a level at 4DS – they’re not like that. Oh sure, there’s a few lunatics who burn the midnight oil and take on big harry audacious goals, but they’re the minority, and often they don’t stay down there very long because they get promoted. At 4DS, most people just don’t operate that way. They don’t look for more work than they have the capacity to do. They say “no” to one another when things get too busy. They go for coffee. They eat their lunch. They take their vacation – All of it. It’s not that they don’t work hard or never put in more than the minimum – They do- often. But they have limits, they know their limits and they keep their limits.
One of my fondest childhood memories was the arrival of the annual Christmas letter from our over-achieving cousins. We would rush to the kitchen table and my oldest brother would offer to read it aloud. Quickly he would scan and pick out the most boastful, self-aggrandizing sentences he could find. “Oh, Oh, listen to this one he would say”…“Edward has progressed to level 10 of the Western Music Academy and will be playing 1st clarinet in the Ontario Youth Orchestra this year. Andrea is progressing well with her ballet and has won a scholarship to the Julliard school of dance. It is a very competitive school with only 1% of applicants who get in so we are very very proud of her” …. “Oh my God, Give me a break- my brother would interject. My family would erupt with laughter. Then my other brother would chime in and suggest “we should send them a letter from our family.. “We could tell them, Scott was recently suspended from school for 2 days for beating up on the disabled kid at school. Hopefully the kid will recover.” I would laugh so hard that tears would fall down my face. These are my people.
So I’m in the midst of an odd kind of “supersize me” experiment right now. But instead of overdosing on fast food I am overdosing on work, commitments and deadlines. The symptoms though are remarkably similar. Insomnia, clouded thinking, exhaustion, irritability and perhaps the strangest of all – the more I take on, the more I crave. It will be short term though. It has to be. I’m not wired for this. Never was. Never will be. But for now I will continue to study this strange ambitious breed and explore their limitless world. -AG
I work at a very large, institution of higher education and for the last 10 years I’ve reported to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to the president. I guess you could call it 4DS or 4 degrees of separation. But this year, I am in a new position and I now report to someone, who reports to someone, who reports to the president or 3DS. Just one degree of separation closer but I feel as though I am in a completely different world. As it turns out I discover – I am. I am now in a world completely populated with “Type A’s”. That’s “A” for Ambitious.
They are everywhere. They are: In before 8. Not home til’ 6. In back to back meetings every hour of the day, every day of the week – sometimes double or triple booked. Often skipping lunch. Never taking breaks. In on their days off. Unlikely to take all of their vacation in any given year. The number of high priority, urgent, large scale projects on their plate at any given time is absolutely mind boggling. And what’s more mind boggling is that in the midst of that they will often volunteer to take on more work.
Just last week one of our Directors laid out her latest six-month plan at the weekly Directors meeting. There she sat – wide eyed, fresh faced, teethy grin spreading from ear to ear. All listened attentively as she painstakingly laid out the complex array of grandiose priorities, projects and plans. And then at the end – the smile widened just a bit as she declared “This is a very ambitious plan”. And at that moment a simultaneous wave of smiles, nods and approving murmurs spread throughout the room. Yes, yes, said the Vice President – A very ambitious plan. We must give her our full support. Yes indeed was the unanimous reply.
You see, down a level at 4DS – they’re not like that. Oh sure, there’s a few lunatics who burn the midnight oil and take on big harry audacious goals, but they’re the minority, and often they don’t stay down there very long because they get promoted. At 4DS, most people just don’t operate that way. They don’t look for more work than they have the capacity to do. They say “no” to one another when things get too busy. They go for coffee. They eat their lunch. They take their vacation – All of it. It’s not that they don’t work hard or never put in more than the minimum – They do- often. But they have limits, they know their limits and they keep their limits.
One of my fondest childhood memories was the arrival of the annual Christmas letter from our over-achieving cousins. We would rush to the kitchen table and my oldest brother would offer to read it aloud. Quickly he would scan and pick out the most boastful, self-aggrandizing sentences he could find. “Oh, Oh, listen to this one he would say”…“Edward has progressed to level 10 of the Western Music Academy and will be playing 1st clarinet in the Ontario Youth Orchestra this year. Andrea is progressing well with her ballet and has won a scholarship to the Julliard school of dance. It is a very competitive school with only 1% of applicants who get in so we are very very proud of her” …. “Oh my God, Give me a break- my brother would interject. My family would erupt with laughter. Then my other brother would chime in and suggest “we should send them a letter from our family.. “We could tell them, Scott was recently suspended from school for 2 days for beating up on the disabled kid at school. Hopefully the kid will recover.” I would laugh so hard that tears would fall down my face. These are my people.
So I’m in the midst of an odd kind of “supersize me” experiment right now. But instead of overdosing on fast food I am overdosing on work, commitments and deadlines. The symptoms though are remarkably similar. Insomnia, clouded thinking, exhaustion, irritability and perhaps the strangest of all – the more I take on, the more I crave. It will be short term though. It has to be. I’m not wired for this. Never was. Never will be. But for now I will continue to study this strange ambitious breed and explore their limitless world. -AG
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I Don't Remember
I now have to set an alarm to remind myself to go pick up my son from school, because I find that my internal time-awareness is not so reliable anymore and I can easily forget other obligations and appointments. But, there is a good thing about my memory going soft. It's a subtle transfer of power. They never teach you about this in school.
My mother never learned to drive (not until she was a senile senior, when she could do some real damage). We went to school and back home via Yellow School Bus. I don't think my mother even walked us to the bus stop. It was our responsibility to get ready in the morning and to the bus stop on time. One morning, when I was nine and playing in my bedroom, I suddenly had a sinking feeling about the time and ran to the front door to see the bus motoring off down the street. My yells didn't stop the bus but they woke up my mother who was of course furious with me, and she had to call a cab to take me to school (I don't remember her coming with me, either). I told this to my son this morning as I drove him to school, and he was amazed that 1) my mom didn't drive and 2) I went to school by myself. I realize now that my mom's parenting style (or smaller skill set, perhaps) forced me to become self-reliant and to learn from my mistakes fast.
Now fast forward to 2011, and for my son and other kids his age, it's a very different way of life. Everything is seat-belted, helmeted, cushioned and padded - mama is a chauffeur/personal assistant who takes care of all his needs so that he can lead a smooth, safe, and untroubled existence. However, at some point, my son will have to start solving his own problems, and at the same time, he will grasp that he can even do this better than I. Hence, my aging and memory going soft. It's a frustrating, but necessary factor in the development of my child.
It's Life coming full circle. I have learned to look after myself, and then, to look after another little person, but life won't let me keep looking after him (not very well, anyway) and every time I fall short of his expectations or of meeting his needs, it should make him question status quo, and even, do something positive about it. Right? Wrong. Some days, he wants to curl up with mama looking after him, and everything else. Who can blame him? Like I said, they don't teach you this stuff in school.
by MO
My mother never learned to drive (not until she was a senile senior, when she could do some real damage). We went to school and back home via Yellow School Bus. I don't think my mother even walked us to the bus stop. It was our responsibility to get ready in the morning and to the bus stop on time. One morning, when I was nine and playing in my bedroom, I suddenly had a sinking feeling about the time and ran to the front door to see the bus motoring off down the street. My yells didn't stop the bus but they woke up my mother who was of course furious with me, and she had to call a cab to take me to school (I don't remember her coming with me, either). I told this to my son this morning as I drove him to school, and he was amazed that 1) my mom didn't drive and 2) I went to school by myself. I realize now that my mom's parenting style (or smaller skill set, perhaps) forced me to become self-reliant and to learn from my mistakes fast.
Now fast forward to 2011, and for my son and other kids his age, it's a very different way of life. Everything is seat-belted, helmeted, cushioned and padded - mama is a chauffeur/personal assistant who takes care of all his needs so that he can lead a smooth, safe, and untroubled existence. However, at some point, my son will have to start solving his own problems, and at the same time, he will grasp that he can even do this better than I. Hence, my aging and memory going soft. It's a frustrating, but necessary factor in the development of my child.
It's Life coming full circle. I have learned to look after myself, and then, to look after another little person, but life won't let me keep looking after him (not very well, anyway) and every time I fall short of his expectations or of meeting his needs, it should make him question status quo, and even, do something positive about it. Right? Wrong. Some days, he wants to curl up with mama looking after him, and everything else. Who can blame him? Like I said, they don't teach you this stuff in school.
by MO
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