honesty*rain

I’ve been wanting to chronicle the experience of raising a boy - the great, the less great and the hey! stop don’t jump off of that, are you daft! But every time I sit down to do so I find it difficult to get my thoughts in order.

I obviously had no idea what it would be like to have a boy. I wanted a girl for all of the usual reasons but was as much overjoyed when Jacob was born as if he had been a girl. In fact, I was admittedly excited to be mother to a boy. I knew my bond with him would be eternal and that he would teach me things a girl could not.

There have been challenges with Jacob and I”m not sure all of them have been because of his being male. He’s a lot like me, you see, and while I was a good child I was a constant source of dismay for my mother. This because I am relentless and not a little opinionated. I always tell people that Jacob is me, the jacked up version. He’s got the boy thing on top of what would already have been a rather strong willed personality. He’s got the desire to bash things about and jump on people when they are not expecting it. I wasn’t so much with the physical. I was more with the talkytalkytalk. I never understood why my mother found me so tedious.

I know now.

I really do want to write about my journey through mothering a boy but admit that I don’t know where to start. I don’t want to journal it so much as I want to chronicle it. I want to write about it and apply whatever wisdom I can glean from taking the time to think about it. I feel honored to be Jacob’s mother and I think in the past few years I’ve gotten so busy with the business of parenting that I’ve forgotten to really notice what I am doing. Jacob is an awesome kid who I know will be an awesome grown up person. I want to really put thought into how I’m raising him because some day he will be in a position to consider his childhood and I would like for him to think that I was present and thoughtful about being his mom.

1st good, I did it today! I did not shout at my children. Not even one single time. Today was a shout free day! This will seem all the more impressive when you get to the bad….

2nd good, my niece (11 years old) was in Seussical the Musical at her school tonight. She played the mayor’s wife and had the best costume in the entire show! She is such a performer (loves it) and I was so proud of her! We went to the show despite the bad which I will tell you about now-

the bad, I have the world’s most gigantic, bubbly, yucky cold sore. On my lip. Which is on my face. Which is on the front of me in plain sight for everyone to see. I have not had a cold sore in probably 6 years. Maybe 10. They are so awful, I cannot tell you and I am generally given to keeping myself to myself when I’ve got ‘em. I do not go out unless required to by law and when does law require me to leave my home? Never. I skip school, work, parties, and all public merry-making etcetera when I have a cold sore and feel no guilt whatsoever. I do not care to be seen and I am in no mood for people or their various personalities. I get a kind of flu-like pms thing going on when I have a cold sore. Illin’ and mad. And hideous! Best to stay out of my way. Something Madison is not terribly good at.

AND YET I DID NOT YELL AT HER!

AND YET I WENT OUT INTO PUBLIC TO SEE THE PLAY!

(applause)

I feel perfectly just in saying that I am better than you today. I have risen above. I am superior and if there’s to be medals awarded I get the first and shiniest one. Mine! Mine! Mine!

Now leave me lovely comments or I’ll post a picture of my cold sore and your eyes will burn up and die. BWA HA HA.

Day one of the shoutfree project was going so well! I managed to go all day without shouting at my children despite the fact that Jacob got in trouble at school (turns out for a not major infraction) and that Madison was wild with desire to drive me over the edge. Not to mention that if I were what I feel I would be a zombie and therefore everyone would have been eaten and the matter would have been closed.

And so just an hour before her bed time she did pester me that tiny bit more than I could handle and without thinking I barked at her in a not quiet voice. Was it a shout? Not technically. But I cannot count this as a successful day in the shoutfree project.

Tomorrow is another day. I can and will do this. They will not get the better of me. I will not be given to self indulgent anger just because they are insane.

Jacob’s hockey wind-up was today. We went to a local hotel with a waterslide/pool and then had pizza and cake. One of the coaches got misty-eyed talking to the kids about their year and that right there is why we had the season we did. We couldn’t have been luckier with the coaching staff we’ve had. It was a great introduction to the sport for all the kids.

A few of the siblings came to the wind-up as well, Madison among them. Happily, the two girls she always plays with (sisters of other boys on the team) were also there and they had their own great time. These girls are slightly younger than Madison but close enough for it not to matter.

The funny thing is, I look at these other two gitls and think, oh they’re so little!. I see them as the four year old girls that they are and I can’t imagine getting mad at them for not getting into the truck fast enough on a cold day or for needing a new pair of socks because they went out on the deck in the rain without any shoes on. Obviously, I’d help them figure things out, show them the way and teach them rather than shouting at them.

And yet, I am in near consant annoyance with my own four year old.

It’s ridiculous. I know what she’s capable of and what she deserves but I have to confess that the constancy of her four year oldness drains me and often leaves me far less patient than I mean to be. I forget that she is in fact super little and deserves a little more leeway than someone who is, say, forty-five. I feel a little off track, patience-wise. I could afford to remember that my children are children and not grown up persons who should know better.

I’ve been meaning to start a new personal project called the shoutfree project. I’ve noticed that in recent months I’ve really let life’s stresses get to me and I’ve been pretty damned shouty. I want this to stop. It’s lame to think that I can take my mood and frustration out on my kids (or anyone else) just to get the satisfaction of the explosion. It’s selfishness of the most dangerous kind: I’m changing who my children are with my raised voice and pissiness. Not okay with me.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a war zone. It’s just been a little louder than I want it to be and that’s changing today. I looked at Maddie’s little friends and saw eensy weensy little girls who should not be yelled at and of course, neither should the eensy weensy little girl I love most in the world. So today I begin the shoutfree project. If anyone wants to join me, please do and post in the comments (of whatever post is up) to let me know how it’s going. I will be putting a shoutfree day counter in my sidebar to keep track of the days I can go without shouting at the people I love in anger.

Sadly, today won’t be counted.

i am eternally sorry for leaving this place stranded with whatever that last post was! I mean, I know what it was but still! Mercy! Could I not follow up with SOMETHING a little less waa waa waa? Geez!

Everything is fine, by the way. I am fine. The drama is subsiding. The people who are ass are improving. The situation of assiness is getting better by degrees.

Now I haven’t got anything more because my natterbug is beside me nattering and we have to get ready for dance class! Dance class, Mommy! I have to get dressed! Wheeeeeeeee!

She’s a little bunny, she is. I loves her.

Back soon. Check out my daily photo which is actually being updated daily! What? Hazzah! Also, I am on twitter which I swear was created for moms to get a blogging fix without actually having the time to blog because of the child related emergencies they face every ten seconds(I have dance class! In two hours! Hurry!).

Have a nice day, you who are not ass.

Jacob: When I grow up maybe I want to be an astronaut.

Dan: An Astronaut? Well, you’ll need The Right Stuff. Hehehe.

Jacob: Yeah, I have it. I’ve got a banana, a sandwich and a squeeze bottle!

Dan: A squeeze bottle!

Jacob: Well, yeah, if I put the water in a regular cup it’ll just float away.

My sister has had a shit year. A shit decade, to be honest. Her husband has some rather major issues and is no longer living with the family. He is not allowed to see his two kids (16 and 11 year old girls) and his life is falling apart. My sister has had a tough row to hoe but she’s definitely come out on top.

(applause)

Now, given that, she’s also being a bit of a jackass. She’s still got a lot of stress (single mom! money! laundry! dishes! ack dating!) and she’s taking some stuff out on her 16 year old. A 16 year old who is a downright remarkable girl. This is a kid who reads an entire book in one day and spent three days last summer baking cookies to give to homeless shelters. Just because her and her friends thought it would be a nice thing to do. No one told them to do it. They just did it.

So what the hell? Why is my sister so hard on her? So critical and hard to please? Granted, the kid forgets to to the laundry sometimes and might not do the dishes one night becuase she’s pissed at you and wants to make a point. The child KNOWS what her father has done, she KNOWS everything and has been given load no child should ever be asked to carry. She’s coping well but holy shit, mom, help a kid out. Don’t crap on her head every time you see her.

It’s a case of stress affecting behavior on both sides. My sister isn’t completely recovered herself and has never, to be honest, been very good at considering how other people feel. There is nothing to which she is not central. When the Queen of England takes a shit the backward swirl of her toilet gives my sister a headache.

I’m always somehow in the middle of it when my sister’s life takes turns. She bobs, I weave, we wind our way through the minefield that is her perceived existence. I’m happy to do it because otherwise, frankly, people would be losing limbs and whatnot. I offer my advice and give direction intended to feel gentle but meant to be absolute and as I do so I take personal stock of my own life, my own actions.

I hate the way she treats her teenager. I hate it with every breath I take. This child was the first among my siblings. I remember when she was born as though it was a few weeks ago. I still see in her the possibilities of a future unmarked by the mistakes of her family. I am angered that she is being treated the way she is and it makes me really think. How often have I let my own moods, fears, stresses, anxieties etcetera affect how I treat my own kids? Could I revisit my own behavior to see if there is perhaps room for improvement. Because anyone giving advice had better been willing to take it themselves else they have no business opening their mouths.

Every step along my sister’s path has been a learning experience for me as well. I have expectations of her that I must also demand of myself. I respect her need for moments of weakness that I must also be willing to grant myself (and those around me).

I hate that my sister is being an asshole but if she wasn’t I probably wouldn’t be thinking about how I’ve been treating my own kids and I may not have taken the time to give them a picnic on the driveway today. I’m not feeling well and probably would have put them in front of the TV and asked them to leave me alone. It’s thanks to my sister I remembered to think beyond myself and be the mom I mean to be and not the mom I am by circumstance and accident. I’m grateful for that. So are my kids.

In looking for a witty quote on petience and parenting I came across this gem

everybody is somebody else’s weirdo

and thought, yes. We’ve all got a freak in our lives. Maybe several. I’ve got one for sure and others who are on that fine line between normal and its polar opposite. One misguided step and it’s headlong into crazytown.

But have you ever wondered - have you ever given thought to the idea that - maybe you are somebody else’s weirdo? That person they see coming and wish they had time to escape? Are there people who discuss your oddities over coffee by way of trying, in futility, to understand what makes you tick?

Moreover, do you know for whom it is that you qualify as weird? Are they right?

~ ~ ~

I was looking for quotes on patience because I am in need of more. Jacob is playing in the kitchen and while he is in no way being bad he is doing that thing boys do. He is playing with sound effects. Weaponry and spacecrafts currently attempt to drive me utterly insane. It will be seconds before I run from the house, ears bleeding, eyes streaming with tears. Can’t he go play dollies with his lovely quiet sister?

Who is not usually this quiet, don’t you worry. Her usual thing is reading books ALOUD LOUD LOUD or singing facsinating little songs while you’re trying to catch what Anderson Copper just said about the aliens attacking the place where you live.

Dan, did he just say aliens are attacking?

What?

Aliens?

What? I can’t hear you. Someone is singing a lovely little song…

ALIENS!

No thank you, I had some this morning.

WHAT?!?

~ ~ ~

If you cannot find me later it is maybe because I fell down and am now burried in the pile of laundry that has taken over my home. Which must be what Anderson Cooper was trying to say. Not aliens. Laundry. They don’t sound the same but somehow I misheard.

Jacob is going to a birthday party tomorrow for twins in his class - a boy and a girl - and we have yet to buy the gift(s).

~~~John D. Rockefeller Jr.:
Think of giving not as a duty but as a privilege.~~~

Me: I think we’ll get one present for both of them. Like a game or something.

Jacob: No, no, Mom. Eric wants a Bakugon and Molly wants a Barbie.

Me: . . .

Jacob: No, a Littlest Pet Shop. And Five hundred dollars for Eric. A Bakugon and five hundred dollars. That’s what he wants.

Me: . . .

Jacob: Okay, maybe not the five hundred dollars but for sure the Bakugon. They have them at Toy’s R Us. Go there.

Me: I think we’ll get them a game or something. Maybe Cranium.

Jacob: . . .

There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.

Friedrich Nietzsche (1844 - 1900), “On Reading and Writing”

I would like to extend a warm embrace to not only the people I love but also to those who do not have someone with which the can snuggle up. I send those people the love they deserve, the love they are entitled to as human beings. Not everyone is with someone they love. Not everyone is with someone who loves them. Today those people have me sending them a cyber hug. It’s not the same thing, I know, but it’s heartfelt just the same.

Happy Valentine’s Day. It’s totally worth it to take a minute and really really feel the love you have for the people in your life. Go hug someone - even if it’s the guy in the next cubicle. You don’t know, maybe he really needs that hug. Maybe you do.

Dan, Jacob and Madison, I love you more than sunshine.

postscript: i have begun participating in love thursday and my first submission can be found here.