About sixteen years ago, I met him for the first time. My trainwreck sibling brought home this adorable puppy he had no business adopting because he had not one thing in his life that wasn’t a mess. I was furious at my sibling – he didn’t even take care of himself, how could he drag
Piyali Bhattacharya. Good Girls Marry Doctors. I could not put this book down. It resonated so strongly with my ingrained sense of duty and family culture (though we aren’t South Asian), the silencing of women even while expecting us to be strong enough to bear every burden, the expiration date at age 25, the arranged marriage set-ups, the expectations that you will always prioritize your parents.
Nicola Yoon. Everything Everything. Very well written but the twist at the end reminded me of the real life story of a similar situation which is incredibly sad.
The Sun is Also a Star. Also very well written. The twist at the end made me mad it was the end because I want mooooreeee.
1. Friday: I dragged my reluctant brain to work, and pummeled it into cooperating but I also took a couple of cleaning my office breaks when the trudge was too difficult. While I didn’t get enough work done, it WAS really satisfying to have gotten that much cleaning done! It did open up new places for the dogs to lose the Kong, though, whoops.
2. Saturday: I had been trying to reach an equilibrium with my feelings towards Dad, looking for a neutral ground for my own peace, for the past few months. The process is both acknowledging the harm he’s caused AND that there were good things in my past as well. It felt like a healthy way to move forward no matter what kind of relationship we end up having (or not).
Then he popped up again on my radar. We’re estranged because of his pathological lying. So what does he do? He used someone I care about and trust to manipulate me into lying for his benefit. He knows it could carry legal consequences for me, but he doesn’t care. Ok. Yeah. So, no personal growth then? I am looking at this as confirmation that he still doesn’t belong in our lives.
3. Sunday: We had to meet some new people for brunch (friends of family) and the male half of the couple was a bombastic sexist. What a waste of a Sunday brunch! But PiC and I agreed – at least we don’t have to hang out with them again. It seems like all the new LOCAL people we meet aren’t people we want to meet again, but all the people we enjoy are far away. It’s a shame.
4. Monday: My pain spiked to about an 11 today. That roughly means: my bones are on fire and if I breathe shallowly, I won’t throw up from the pain nausea. JB was oddly solicitous when ze came home, suggesting that I choose the chair with the blanket because it’d be more comfortable and offering to entertain me. We were solo this evening and I’m grateful that ze mostly cooperated throughout playing, dinner, and bath and bed routine.
8. Tuesday: Really grasping for the good today. Pain is sky-high and I am grateful for our recliner we spent the big bucks on before JB was born. The cushion supports my broken body adequately so I can make it through a work day without passing out from pain.
9. Wednesday: With LOTS of sitting down breaks, I was able to attend an event at JB’s daycare. It was rough but I didn’t pass out at the end of the day, I slept naturally, so we’re calling this a win.
10. Thursday: You know what’s fun? Spraining your ankle IN YOUR SLEEP. This is really not my week. But I’m grateful it was a minor sprain, the kind that wears off if I can hobble around all day, exhausting though THAT is.
Primary.com is having a summer sale. If you use this referral code to get 25% off and free shipping on top of their summer prices, the prices are excellent! The referral discount is better than their first time buyer discount (15 0r 20%). I just ordered nibling Christmas gifts.
I have adored Sir Terry Pratchett‘s books since high school, and I’m sad I never got a chance to meet him at a convention.
Tenacious J’s contemplating a midlife crisis. I’m pretty ragey these days too but it’s a combination of professional stress, personal exhaustion, and what our country is doing. It makes sense.
I did not know that Murderinos were a thing and it’s a creepy thing to be forced to hear at work if you’re not into it.
This quote made me click through to read the article I assumed I’d disagree with: “Poverty is not much of a teacher. There’s not much to learn; it’s all necessity. And at the rich end, it’s hard to create the kind of artificial scarcity that you need to make decisions seem as though they mean anything.”
In my experience, dealing with necessity was a learning experience and some people never learn because they never have to. The stakes were never high enough that they needed to make the right choice every single time, so they never learned to analyze the choices in front of them. They always had a safety net so it was not just ok to flounder and make mistakes but to never really get your feet under you. Sometimes that’s totally fine. Sometimes, they reach a tough point of their lives later on and don’t know if they have the strength to make it through because they’ve never been tested. Heck, my sibling sure never learned any of those lessons but it mattered in his case because we had no safety net. Poverty isn’t THE way to learn it but I don’t know how to teach the lessons I learned without inflicting the trauma of impoverishment and living in brokenness, worrying about every penny, on JB.
But as to the article itself, I do agree that it’s gotta be tough to grow up at either end of the spectrum. People scoff when I say I pity the Royal Kids or even Beyonce’s kids a bit – they’re growing up uber wealthy sure, but that’s not wealth they earned and they’re growing up in the limelight they didn’t ask for or choose, and under expectations of either Royal composure or Massive Talent and Drive and that has got to be tough. The money’s nice but I would never ever trade my chosen existence for that kind of life where privacy isn’t the default.
Herman the Worm
This came up on random shuffle when we were listening to kids songs on YouTube, we were bemused to discover that JB knew all the hand movements.
I didn’t take it personally when JB so clearly preferred PiC to me as the vastly superior parent. It’s the kind of thing that goes in cycles. I’d have my turn eventually.
I think this is it. After four short years, I think I’m finally up to bat and it’s very weird. I’m not used to being picked for the team – ever. I’ve gotten accustomed to assuming that even though I answer all the nightmare calls and administer the medicine and tough love and teach essential life skills, when it’s time for a hug or hanging out or you just want a parent, PiC’s the guy. I’m the person who keeps you alive, not the one you want to hang out with.
But now I’m up to bat and I’m making the best of it even as part of my brain goes, huh? Don’t you mean “Dad!” right now?
All I want from my child…
… is for zir to be a good person who we can love and cherish, and who loves us in turn, in a healthy and self aware kind of way.
Is that too much to ask? I really hope not but you never know.
Backwards wiring in internal clocks
Almost every week day is a struggle to get JB up and going. We’ve tried a dozen tactics and some of them work some of the time. But come the weekend, at 6:30 when my body is just hitting that delicious REM sleep: I’M AWAKE!!!.
I don’t like it.
Is this the silly side?
JB does this thing where ze likes to ham it up, then crosses the line over from silly, zips past super silly, straight to forced-awkward-and-even-sounds-painful laugh trying to coerce a laugh from your audience zone and it’s not at all funny. I don’t know what to do with it because that’s a part of childhood I never participated in, nor enjoyed watching in my own peers, and it just brings out the irritability in me. It’s not objectively funny, it’s just awkward. It gets under my skin far more than it should because it reminds me of my sibling’s manipulations when we were younger – he wanted to control how I felt and how I thought and forcing me to laugh was one of his methods.
I know zir goal is just to get a laugh but ze is nowhere near it … what does a parent do in this situation??
Precious Moments
I was musing to PiC that at least half my accomplishments as a child were motivated by spite. People would tell me I was too small, too weak, too frail to do any physical sports or even learn to play particular instruments. I never did pick up guitar but I did get pretty good at running a race and learning to fight.
JB overheard and chimed in: “das not nice! But you don’t have to listen to dem. You can do whatever you want!”
I agree. Just because someone says you’re not capable of something doesn’t mean you have to believe them.
Clearly my lessons on paying attention to animal body language have taken root.
JB: if my bunny’s ears are down, it means it’s sad. If the ears are up, it means the mommy is home. If the ears are sideways, it means it’s going to flyyyyy awayyyyyy.
My bunny is sad. Her mom died. Bad guys caught bunny’s mom.
In the hotel pool
JB: Daddy, now be a shark and swim back!
PiC complies and ze jumps out of the pool yelling: IT’S A SHARK!
PiC, confused: But you *told* me to be a shark.
Me: And then you were. When you see a shark, you GTFO of the water – pretend or not! I endorse this instinct.
Facts
JB: You were supposed to drive me to school but Daddy drove me to school instead n dat’s not right.
Me: Daddy and I both drove you to school.
JB *checks the passenger seat*: No, there is no wheel there so you did not drive.
How I know JB *is* listening (all other evidence to the contrary) aka when ze turns my words on me.
JB: I fixed this! *waves toy toaster*
Me: Good job! Is that toast in there?
JB: Yes I’m making toast for you.
Me: Could I have pretend jam on my pretend toast?
JB: Yes but you have to have peanut butter and jam because JUST jam is not good for you.
JB comes into the kitchen, looks at me with disapproval, capping a pen I’ve left uncapped since the day before: you’re going to let this dry out, Mommy.
JB pops into my unlit office, flips on the light: MOMMY! Dark is not good for your eyes!
1. Friday:Angela reminded me that I’d been leaving money on the table ignoring the Bing search engine and related Microsoft rewards. I’ve earned 9700 points so far! Of course I’m hoarding them so that when I redeem for my first $5 reward (6500) the ticker doesn’t go down to 0 immediately. I don’t like feeling like I’m starting all over again even if I am.
2. Saturday: I had the weirdest dream where I was at a library / grocery store (combined) with the family and JB pulled me away from my spot to do something. When I got back, my things were all gone: my bag, wallet, everything. Someone had gone through and taken everything out of my bag and distributed the contents throughout the shelves. That someone was a librarian. It was Very Weird. I woke up very glad that I make it a rule never to leave my things unattended if they’re out of line of sight and also that that didn’t happen at all.
3. Saturday: We mainly shop online to preserve time and energy but there are two things that I find most risky to order online reliably: shampoo/conditioner and stationery. I need to know how the former smells and how the latter feels. The last time I bought notecards, they were disappointingly thin paper and floppy. I took a risk on some Peter Pauper branded notecards a couple weeks ago, having never seen them in person, and they were really quite a perfect weight and thickness. Yay!
4. Sunday: We half celebrated Father’s Day on Saturday giving him half the day to himself and half on Sunday.
7. Monday: After dinner, JB went straight to the bathroom and did zir entire pre-shower routine without having to be told even once to do it. It was like a tiny miracle.
8. Tuesday: I won a random Amazon giveaway! That never happens! It was just a tiny thing but it was fun.
9. Wednesday: I had a long-awaited massage and my muscles were in shock. Those five minutes of existing entirely without pain post-massage are pure heaven. Invariably my aches all set in again but I savor every second of it.
10. Thursday: I’m ready for my 1x, 2x, or every 2 yearly-depending on how I feel- hair cut. It may be time to go Super Duper Short.
For health reasons, I generally don’t get more than 5000 steps on average, not if I also want to get all my work done, be a present parent and partner, feed my family and tend to our dogs. The energy expenditure required to hit 10,000 steps a day simply isn’t worth it. Good to know that 10,000 steps baseline was totally not based on science.
The news just keeps making me sicker. This country is doing horrific, inhuman things.
I keep going back and forth on whether to take a cruise but knowing this makes me, at the very least, cross Princess and Carnival off our list: “Miami-based Carnival pleaded guilty Monday to six probation violations, including the dumping of plastic mixed with food waste in Bahamian waters. The company also admitted sending teams to visit ships before the inspections to fix any environmental compliance violations, falsifying training records and contacting the U.S. Coast Guard to try to redefine what would be a “major non-conformity” of their environmental compliance plan.…Carnival has had a long history of dumping plastic trash and oily discharge from its ships, with violations dating back to 1993.”
A twitter friend asked some questions about knowing when your parents had money and that got me thinking. How young were you when you started becoming aware of money as a child? Did you know anything about your family’s financial situation? Did you know when your parents got paid by changes in their behavior?
My answers: I was pretty young when I started writing the checks for our bills, around 8 or 9? And even then it stood out to me that I had to post-date our checks for after the due date because we wouldn’t have money until then. That seemed wrong and precarious to me, the rule-abiding child, to not have the money to pay bills when they were due. At the same time, I didn’t have the imagination or the context to figure out what that meant overall for the scope of our family finances.
I didn’t know when money would become available outside of those bill paying periods because my parents were self employed and didn’t have regular paydays. Their spending behaviors also didn’t seem to be calibrated to any particular time of the month.
From the parenting perspective: We’re the adults now!
JB doesn’t know anything about our bills because though I discuss them in the abstract while teaching philosophy about money, ze doesn’t see physical bills or see us paying them. Our spending also doesn’t really revolve around paydays because we put everything on credit cards and I sync up our income to our bills online a few times a month. Or more than a few times, depending on how neurotic I’m feeling.
I don’t want to pass on my neuroticism but I do want to pass on a healthy self awareness around and critical thinking about money, and I’m trying to find the right balance of transparency and sharing for that kind of education.
:: What did you grow up knowing about money? Were your parents forthcoming about your family situation?
It’s my turn!
A twitter friend asked some questions about knowing when your parents had money and that got me thinking. How young were you when you started becoming aware of money as a child? Did you know anything about your family’s financial situation? Did you know when your parents got paid by changes in their behavior?