What She Looks Like

I worked too much in the Fall. I was working more than 35 hrs a week at a new job with a big commute. I was also teaching at the university at night with all the marking and course prep and a big co-teaching collaborative footprint.

My family gave a lot to make it all work out.

I know when I work like that the kids need to see reason. Often they get the money angle, I'll be honest, so I decided on a sad night when my g'nigh came to an already sleeping face.. again... we would go away. The kids and I would spend some of the money on a little vacation. We went to Victoria.

For this trip we travel from our house for a couple hours. Bye-bye Daddy. Lunch with my parents in Ladner nearby and then the kids get to see their uncle in Victoria. A nice getaway, for sure, a simple trip.

We took the ferry and there Miss Fancy made a friend. Her friend's name was Lillian and I have a little story about it.

We met up right away at sailing. Lillian and Miss Fancy playing with Boy-o in the kids' playspace. We quickly went outside. Not. A. Playspace. Fan. I had a nice chat with Lillian's Mom. They were en route to see Lillian's grandparents for Christmas, for them from Australia. They had come via Beijing where they met up with Lillian's uncle and aunt and her 4 year old cousin. They had also said bye-bye to Daddy.

The children played and played. We mothers talked. I snapped photos with my blackberry, Lillian's mom with her iphone. As we neared the shore we exchanged emails, we'd be in touch. "Thanks for everything!" "Merry Christmas". So on and so on.

By this time the kids had taken to the floor to draw. My daughter's bag of supplies being shared, papers askew. Our new friends were setting off quickly and we were running late. They would walk off and their time was more flexible. I needed to muster to the car deck. C'mon! What is the delay?.. N. was slow. She was drawing over which she does often dawdle.

"Mom I am drawing." ..
"What are you drawing?"..
Silence. What is she drawing? I am wondering.
"I HAVE to finish this."
In my mind, what is she drawing (still not peeking) is she drawing something for Lillian?
Lillian is wandering away.
"I have to finish this."
"Finish what"
"I am drawing Lillian. I want to remember what she looks like."

...Agog.

Isn't that interesting? (I mean is that interesting?) We have these devices, their ubiquity to record and there my girl 7 years old knew and to here it means little (or nothing). She wants her picture. She replaces that -- I know her -- what I have with what she might select from her mind. Her idea under the work of her own hand is what makes the memory. It is what she will trust. Somehow I really loved that.

It was a good trip and that was the best story.

Clingy

I reach for the blackberry on my passenger seat like I reach for his hand. A moment at a stop light to see what he's thinking, p-man.. wherever he is. I realize as I drop it again...two hand on the wheel. It'll keep. Hey, It's me! I'm the clingy one! Me.

My kids had clingy periods sure but mostly they are independent. I remember the day my Ma shot at me 'you just don't want her to be independent'. Who me? of all people? Independence impeder. NEVER. But sometimes you have to wonder....

I am struggling with my daughter's aloofness these days. Aloofness at best; arrogance at worst. Her overly social nature getting the better of her in grade one. Leading the pack and too much independence. Not falling in with the class or abiding the teacher. It's been very hard*** how she is getting bigger and wanting her own way is gonna make trouble. She is demanding too much at times and not good at being flexible or kind when she's not getting it.

My daughter is a friendly kid but when her best friend moved away last year she hasn't found a replacement. I tried not to fuss about it. But I am a fusser into attachment. I realize I am the clingy one. I want to know where everyone is and how they're doing. It is a mystery to me that my daughter is not me in this regard. Ah, well I learn.

In celebration of our 15th wedding anniversary this year my beloved declared himself like a barnacle.. Finds what he likes and sticks to it. So she's not him exactly either. So we have to be the open ones helping her become her while knowing her the best of everyone. We want her to be open.

We all do think about what might be out there, don't we, smirk:





*** in the why I don't blog anymore catalogue... is this sort of sin of the family unbloggable. is it against some law of the parent blog... I think so and won't talk about it too much in my last 30 posts before this blog is closed.

Collateral Bonuses

You know I don't like all of the parents of my daughter's friends. But my daughter seems to swing with the knowledge that she is required to like all the children of my friends. THANK GOD.

I am becoming the tyrant I oft swore to defy.

Ingratitude Rest

On Tuesday last I bustled from the elevator to my desk, wearing the frustration only an effective mother trapped in the body of an ineffective bureaucrat can wear so well.

I saw the delivery guy running around and around and around our offices looking for someone to give flowers to. I thought, wow, isn't that nice, someone is getting flowers. Twenty minutes later a finger pointed at me and my co-worker ushered him and the flowers to the 'door' of my cubicle.
Are you...?
Yes!
OK, have a nice day.
I WILL!

No card. Umm. But he was gone.

Now I like getting flowers, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I get a bit shy about it. You know how it is. for-me?for-me?for-me? REALLY? I sort of ferretted them away. Really, for me?

I just let the mystery of their sender lie. I mean I had been pretty nice that week, despite broadcasting my feelings that Monday. Putting up actors and sharing my quality lox supplies with hungry children from Oregon. I had busted ass, kissed ass and hauled ass for school after school for two solid weeks. These were my flowers. I deserved them. I got them because I'm nice. I sat back to admire them and to read a Cathy cartoon.

Today I could let my ingratitude rest no longer. I had to know to whom I owed thanks.

Well, it's you. My most darling friend. And not because I'm nice at all, but because you are. I love you J. Thank-you. You picked me up.

Ok, now I'll go call.

Point Blank

I don't really keep in touch with more than a couple of my good friends from high school. Next month at my 20th reunion I look forward to the chance to catch up. For the most part I went to school with good people.

One of my best friends from the group, and a really interesting chick, is D. We haven't talked in years but in prep for the reunion I dropped her an email. She is a busy businesswoman up North now often sparing time-off only for a good bit of scuba diving in Belize during the coldest months that Yellowknife can offer. Would she spend part of this year's time away on little ole Burbville-upon-Fraser where we grew up?

The message came back. Yes she would. But she wouldn't bring the whole family? WHAT? What family? This is the girl who said when we were 15 she'd NEVER have kids, due to being"too selfish and kids are a big responsibility." So she DID have them. By the by I remember being simultaneously apalled and admiring about her comment back then. To know thy self that's a good skill. I always envied her that.

To follow up I wrote a message mentioning my two kids and got a message with this senitiment in response.

"WHAT!!!! Two kids!! No way hosey-rosie (as my just 4 year old daughter would say). That’s unexpected for some reason. Here I’ve been envisioning you all these years as some socialite ultra-adult urbanite."

I find this remarkable in a couple ways.

1. Here we both were so sure one another were not 'parent material' ... an allusion to our enduring coolness of youthful memory, perhaps? (insert some sad social commentary on the self-effacing tenor to parenthood these days, your call)
2. Isn't it nice that despite some 8 or 9 years silence and many years of declining intimacy before that we could just pick up in that voice of familiarity and steadfast sarcasm.

I always believe you can't let years of silence be a barrier to friendship. Don't get hung up on who called, or didn't call, last time. With the people that matter... it never matters. I can add I am pretty damn thrilled that she is a Mom. I know she was, actually, never too selfish anyway.

Of course I told her I am a pure and refined hipster parent all the way! hahahahaha

Cue the DJ people.

Dumplings

I have recently come to understand that I must refuse good things. I don't like this, foreign to my disposition. I am a glutton at the smorgasboard of lunches with friends, storybook after storybook and playtimes in the park. Consider me a fiend for quality time in endless quantity. But time has shrunk. With two people who need to nap and poop and learn to feed themselves and walk then run... I don't have enough time.

When I try to 'make time' well. HA! I feel I am being forced to live life like some fiscal conservative. It seems at time it's all a system of cutbacks and downsizing. Certainly, there are too many good blogs to read I am still having hard times find my place in the agenda to write blog. (I miss it.)

Here's a little something more.

I have also recently learned I can find an equilibrium if I fake it til we make it. I call in thank-you notes. I microwave pasta. I choose friends over the lunch with friends. A couple weeks back I had to tell one of my loved ones, you know I love your cooking, but I love you more. Sometimes I will pass on the food to have the talk instead. It is maybe more nutritious. It always makes us feel good to see our friends. Like the sun, or good perogi, they give us energy. We really appreciate it.

Wishing you a happy energizing weekend with your loved ones.

Bad Parent : Part Two

I guess when I wrote a post about cold shouldered toddlers I was doing the bloggy thing. Casting out my parenting nervousness for you-know-what.

Well, what? you ask...

You know. Forgiveness or commiseration or other maybe more general feedback. You guys gave me all that and I thank you for it.

The more I think about what I posted, and what happened, the more I do think I knew what I was doing was wrong. Not the nuance of forcing hugs so much, as seemed to be the emphasis of that spun off the post. But rather that in the face of my daughter's tears I looked to others to provide remedy. What I failed to convey it seems in what I said was how much my girl's crying shocked me. I mean these two kids spurn each other over things all the time. They are, after all, two going on three it is just normal for their age. But this time she was an injured party. Add to this my guilt that I have failed to arrange enough playdates for her since she left daycare a couple months back and I am a wreck over this subject.

This first experience of my daughter feeling pain for 'social' reasons was a hard one. Rejection seems a solemn milestone to me. A road lies ahead mired in my own fears. I think of all things parenting it is the getting along that intimidates me the most. Count me one quick to say 'Oh, physical needs those are no biggie. It's the emotional needs that scare the crap out of me.' How can I help her? Where does our responsibility end and her character take over? It all sort of seems like a level of social engineering that -- to be blunt -- pisses me off. Life can't really expect me to do that. I can't make people get along.

P-man and I are blessed with some really tremendous friends. We are lucky in love some might say. But I count among my dear ones some not always so lucky and this makes me acutely wary. My brother, for example, suffered the wretched geek ostracism that characterised 80's North American teen culture. You know how they say, kids are cruel. I've seen it. It's true. I want so much for my kids to get along with everybody. (Though, of course, I don't.)

I hope I won't make the mistake again and fail to help my little girl, or little guy as the case may be, when someone else's choices or needs hurt them. I was wrong to look to others to smooth over her hurt. I mean that mother naturally had to put her kid first just like I was trying to do.

This is something I see as a level of mothering maturity that I still need to achieve. Time to stop idealising the relationship of humanity to my precious, gorgeous, dear, clever and sweet offspring. Over-simply put is my row to hoe. Though, to be honest, you all pitch in on a semi-regular basis and it does help me to remain in my comfy-not-completely-jaded place. Thanks again. And, chalk that up as Inclusion 1, Exclusion Nil, for blogging will ya Ginga?

Bad Parenting Confessional: Hug Forcing Hippies

I was so so so upset. I saw my daughter cry yesterday like I have never seen before. She was refused a hug and she bawled. Our Girl Friday is not what you would call a bawler. But I've seen it now. I was so upset.

Yesterday we had a playdate to breakup all the Mommy & and Me (and Baby!) doldrums. It was really fun for the two girls. Then when her friend went to leave my girl said. "No, wait. You forgot a hug and a kiss." (This is just like she'd say to Daddy or Grandpa when they're leaving.) The friend looked her square in the face and said "No, hug" and they went to leave.

I froze. I just didn't know how to react. Upon reflection I was leaving it to the other mother. And her response was bye-bye. Was there a sorry in there? I don't remember. I was profoundly upset, dumbstruck. Foolishly (?) we went after them down the lane. I tried to suggest alternatives to my daughter. Blow a kiss? The ever popular, "Ciao, Baby." But it was obvious she wanted no substitute. Our little visitor was amenable to supplying something in response to her playmate's cries in the end. Nose kiss? OK. My daughter held her in her little arms as they did it. What a relief I felt. She only whimpered a little after that. I could chat her through it.

In an effort to help us and to explain the little girl's Mom said she didn't like to force her daughter. Due to, as an example, the thoroughly logical limits she has to impose on her toddler around the hugging of their baby when baby doesn't want it. You know how those can be entirely age-inappropriate rough-housing in hug clothing. I understand this.

But at first it wasn't natural to understand. I was a bit in shock to not be the parent with the kid throwing the cold shoulder. It is usually the other way around. I have forced our daughter to hug this girl a couple dozen times. I never thought forced. I hand-out lighthearted chidings and tell her I expect that she return 'the love' when her friends wanna give it. I mean we're just hippies like that, I guess.

Which brings me around to friends. I mean do little 2 1/2 year old people really have friends? I know they are pretty friendly but are we wrong to hang our thoughts on social nicieties between them like they have such obligations? Or are they what I said... playmates. Thinking it over makes me feel quite icky; sort of like social engineering. I am flummoxed.

I'd be lying not to admit that I was shaken to experience that gap in parenting knowledge that seemed so accessible to the other parent. I tend to obsess about these sorts of run-ins and with the right/wrongedness of this parenting gig. What am I: some massive parenting schmo? I read too much into things, right? I love to ask "Did I do the wrong thing?" after these sorts of things.

The short story is someone refused my child's affection and it made her cry. I am sure this won't be last time. It's just that it was the first. It seems both of us got bawlers down there somewhere.

Good Things

So it is the weekend. In Canada a long weekend, in fact. A time to feel good. My last post hinted at me feeling like a bad parent. Here are two things that I had happen recently that made me know I am a good parent, like you say (thanks for that you dear commenters!).

#1 My smiling daughter exclaims in a breathy voice, "Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thank you." At the sight of 5 smarties as a reward. The thrill of this sugar recompense being thus measured is gratifying. It was as if she had just been given a marvel of such rare quality as something rare and marvelous might be that I was so proud. Demonstrable of my persistence over several days to distance myself from bribery.

#2 My son having two peaceful naps in a day where he did not have to go shopping or unpack my fridge for amusement. Thanks to my parents taking E. yesterday I was able to spoil my son in a way I like. Extra minutes for play with me instead of just near me is so often an unattainable goal. But whoa did we laugh our asses off yesterday.. good times.

I can add to this review of Mo-Wo good things that I experienced a simulatenous nap period for more than 90 minutes this afternoon. 90 minutes! In that time I called an out of town friend I owed a callback to for hmmmm.... 3 years? That was very nice. It was even better that she told me 'you know I think of you whenever I see Maggie Gyllenhaal. you must get that a lot." Well, no. I think in fact she was merely recognizing that I looked something like Ms. Gyllenhaal for 25 minutes back in 1990 when my friend and I were both young gypsy ladies all backpacking like and illegally overnighting on some Welsh Beach in August. Interesting what memory holds and how an image can be so distorted towards beauty by good feeling. Memory and the Internet... so I will now command you all to think that I do actually look like this, even today.



Here's wishing everyone a very good weekend and some goods things coming your way, too.