The Loaded Text
When I was deciding on what thoughtful topic I wanted to write about this week, I had many choices. National Dive Bar Day (7/7), National Pina Colada Day (7/10) and National Mojito Day (7/11) all fall within my weekly parameter of Tuesday 7/7 to Monday 7/13. Lately, my posts have been very much celebratory of the national days; fun and light-hearted. In fact, National French Fry Day is on 7/13 and who doesn’t love a good french fry?
However, last night I got a text from my daughter and it rocked my world. I won’t go into detail what it was about but I will share that I felt so overwhelmed by the content, that I wanted to give up immediately without even trying to address anything she said. I just wanted to quit being a parent. I don’t think there has ever been a time prior to last night when I went to bed feeling like no matter what I did the next morning, I would not be able to fix my relationship with my daughter.
Before I fell asleep I knew one thing was certain; the timing of all of this stark content {Side Note: I’m also reading the book White Fragility which makes me want to quit being a US citizen} is not an accident. After all, I believe that everything happens for a reason. I needed this to happen so that I could check myself. What are my faults and where can I improve? Fortunately, because I believe in two other theories, I was able to wake up today with a plan that was better than quitting.
I believe in Karma. As a Catholic this is not really allowed (I am only supposed to believe in one God). In my defense, I think of Karma as more of theory and not a person; sort of like believing in luck. Anyway, I digress. I’m pretty sure the more I try to be the opposite of my mom, the more my daughter resists me and simply adores my mom. That’s Karma. Now is the perfect time for me to let go of the fear that my daughter won’t respect me just like I did not respect my mom when I was growing up. This past April I tried to thank my mom for doing the best she could as a parent and I apologized for ever thinking I would be better at raising a daughter than she. The conversation was lost upon her because she immediately considered it negative even though I spoke with compassion and kept it all positive. In fact, I swallowed my pride and admitted that parenting is much harder than I could have ever imagined. If I didn’t have her help now because she lives with us, I’d be struggling. Instead, she actually got upset that I wouldn’t tell her what she could have done better. My thought was, why would I tell her those things now that I’m 50 years old? She can’t reverse time in order to do anything about it. Why couldn’t she accept my apology and see that it took guts for me to say these things? At that moment in the conversation with my mother, I realized that I should not have said anything at all. That made me even more sad because I wished I had a mother that I could talk to. Couldn’t I just be a daughter who make mistakes and has a mother who comforts me when I do?
Never say never. Before I had kids I watched a TV show called The Super Nanny. It was a brilliant show. Americans watched this British nanny get families and their homes in order. I remember in one episode a mom was constantly cleaning her house. Her kids would get into trouble because they were not supervised and the mom never interacted with them because she was obsessed with cleaning her house. As a result, she would have to yell at them for making a mess. I remember thinking that I would NEVER be that way when I had kids. Flash forward to the Covid era and a reminder that I am both a Type A and a Virgo Perfectionist. Separately both “disorders” have issues with control and so the combo means… that I’m a control freak. Here is what typically happens around my house: I find a lot of joy in putting together little thoughtful pinches . I spend time shopping for things, wrapping them up and getting them ready to deliver or mail out. This “hobby” or passion (ok, obsession), fills my heart but it also takes time out of my day. Since I am not able to add more hours in a day, the things I can control are how our activities will operate and where everything belongs in the house because every item has a proper place. My tendency is to bark out orders and dwell on the things that are not in order. My sentences are terse and sound a little threatening because I’m always in a hurry and I’m desperate to meet a deadline (almost always!). In fact, I think I’m worse than the mom on Super Nanny because at least her kids had fun making a mess. My kids get nagged if they leave a cup in the library. It’s ridiculous. Sure I can say that I’m helping them to NOT grow up to be slobs but really this is about my sense of “out of control” when something is just out of place. As of last night, I realized that the price is too high to pay for constantly running around demanding that our house is in order. Since it’s my choice to give out thoughtful pinches , it’s up to me to manage my time accordingly so that I can slow down and take time to spend time with my family.
My reply to my daughter’s loaded text last night was that I didn’t know what to do with all the information she gave me. The silver linings that come from all of this is that I’m glad my daughter spoke up about things that bothered her and I used this opportunity to work on myself, letting go of fear, controlling less around the house and most of all - not quitting! Nevertheless, my guess is that I would have had fun doing the reconnaissance for a much lighter thoughtful topic like National Dive Bar Day! Cheers!
Pinches,
Barb
