Thursday, February 24, 2011
Do you love our new home? We put in a bid, it was accepted, and now we are getting it inspected today. Daisy and I have been married almost 12.5 years and have always rented our living quarters. During that time we were able to save 2 million dollars. Of course I'm kidding. But it certainly feels as if we have. The mortgage is about 100 dollars more than our current place but it feels as if it will be twice that amount with the stress involved.
Of course the kids could care less. All they were worried about was if they could bring their toys. But buying a home is both the curse and reward for being an adult.
"Why can you stay up late and I can't?"
"Because I'm an adult"
"Why can you eat ice cream for dinner and I can't?"
"Because I'm an adult"
"Why do you get to vote, drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes, and buy lottery tickets and I can't?"
"Because I'm an adult"
"Why are you crying into your bowl of cheerios?"
"Because I'm an adult and mom has to sleep with creepy men to pay our bills."
Now that we are in the process of purchasing a home buying a dollar cheeseburger from McDonalds is paying too much. Buying alcohol is a double edged sword because it costs money but numbs the pain. When stress comes it makes other stressors, which would normally be tolerable, that much worse. Beast had surgery to remove his adenoids which was a rather simple procedure. The night before, Daisy called me to come home before he went to bed because she was worried it might be the last time I would see him.
The reactions we have received have either been with praise or with warnings of extra expenses. With the warnings I want to plug my ears. A "helpful" comment about lawn care and I freak out.
"I know, I know, I know! If there is an earthquake and our house gets sucked into the earth we might regret the decision." Anyway, I'm off to work an 18 hour day to make sure my kids have clothes to wear and food to eat. They specifically said they want the house more than time with me. Wait, that might have been Daisy.
Monday, February 14, 2011
I was supervised by one of my favorite Psychologists for two years before I became licensed. I greatly respect his opinion and asked what parenting book I might pick up. He wrote back and pointed me toward a few choices. This, of course, gave me the green light to pour out my heart and tell him what prompted my request of his recommendations.
Thanks for your e-mail. When people told me, "They grow up fast." I had trouble believing them at the time. Beast now has the opportunity to go into Kindergarten next year and I'm freaking out. I'm imagining him running toward school with a backpack too large for his body hanging off his shoulders. Then I fall to my knees with my face toward the sky and my arms outstretched toward the heavens. With tears running down my cheeks I scream, "Why are taking my son away from me!" Then I wake up from my night terror gasping for breath and sweat running down my face. Laura touches my shoulder asking if I'm ok.
"Is there more I can be doing?" I ask myself. "Have I done enough to prepare him for this moment? Does he know he is loved? Have I strengthened his ego as much as I possibly can so he can defend himself against children who scorn and mock him for mistakes he will inevitably make?" Then I realize I don't have as much control as I thought I did. Instead of becoming more comfortable with this fact, I redouble my efforts and make last minute gasps toward his comfortability in being held within a safe environment. The solution? Never allowing him to leave home. He will be safely contained with no outside influence that will taint his innocent mind.
Maybe I don't need the books Master. Because being a, "good enough parent" is not good enough. With every friend being of my choosing he will never need to become vulnerable, and therefore hurt, when reaching out to others.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
The red line is control of child while the blue line is warmth. Too high on control and low on warmth and you fall into the Authoritarian box. Too high on warmth and low on control and you fall into the Permissive category. Most parents who give a damn want to be in the Authoritative box where structure and love are balanced.
If you see a family member who is Authoritative, and want to compliment them, make sure you say remember to say AuthoriTATive and not AuthoriTARian. I would always get this mixed up on tests so I remembered TAR is bad and TAT is good. TAT rhymes with CAT and a lot of people like cats. If you say the wrong thing, and they look it up on the web, then they could end up holding resentment toward you for years. And then when it comes to splitting up the inheritance you could find yourself fighting over the laundry basket.
I saved this post as a draft a week ago and now find myself bored with it. I think I'll start another one.