Maybel, the wizened, discerning, year-and-seven-month-old she is (and I'm serious), has already landed on some repetitive films in her short time. Wallace and Grommit Curse of the Wererabbit was first. Then it was Hotel Transylvania and Tangled alternated at regular intervals. How to Train Your Dragon made the rounds. The Fantastic Mr. Fox is her current du jour, following a stint of The Croods. Big sis Logan paved the way with these, and at the same age, had her own crop of repeats. The love of a good movie is in their DNA, no secret there. Dabbling so frequently in this arena, I realized recently that one of the perks to being a parent these days is to have such an awesome array to choose from. Not every one is a gem, but those that shine are sunglasses worthy. They stand on their own as great films, not just for a certain type, age or mentality. The lackluster pillars of cutesy, clichéd "kid" shows have crumbled, and standing in their place are some of the most original, touching, and well executed stories being told. Stories that by being told in their unique way, send a message of uniqueness being a good thing.
That being said, the kid demographic has the majority of the credit for those risks being taken I'd suspect. Little ones dwell in full magical imagination while forming opinions, with a complete suspension of disbelief. No skepticism or cynicism in their way. What's so cool is that you in adult form get sucked into that world for a brief time with them, remembering what that feels like, if you let yourself. The kiddos appreciate those kinds of interactions too, how rare they can be.
Watching the flawless end results-often with new nuance found each time-it's easy to forget what it takes to get to that end. The technical genius-be it computer, stop-motion or old fashioned paper and pencil-rarely receives adequate recognition. It takes years of daily minutia from start to finish, and only a select few in the team of thousands bringing them to life ever get the high fives their live action counterparts do, if at all. They toil away to present these vivid dreamscapes with fresh takes on relevant real-life lessons. Far more than before, I'd say. The actors bringing unfettered flair armed with just a microphone, have freedom to bring the character to life with equally dazzling vividness, with no physical limitation. That in itself is pretty rad. It's art come to life simplistically, because it's allowed to be by everyone involved. The industry could apply such tactics across the board and build a sturdier foundation to launch from. Maybe even earn back a little credibility with which to earn a buck.
All technical reverence aside, the real value is how they are personally bonded to you/your family. It's honestly why I got into this crazy entertainment racket myself. Some of the happier memories of childhood are of the whole family watching a movie as a unit when the moments before and after, we were anything but. We'd take a journey, have fun and forget all else for a while. Everyone deserves as much.
I'm a big fan of quiet time, reading time, no technology time and being outside time, for sure. We are equally happy doing all. When it is time to bust out though, I'm pleased with the substance offered and retained. To know that it's enriching, not just vacant space. That we share quotes, inside references and the knowledge that we have a rekindling of those things, whenever we want. Even at a raucous daily rate.
To be bestowed such gifts, it seems like there ought to be a better shorthand way (too late) of conveying thanks. I do know that with all flowing, passionate pursuits, the work is it's own reward. Any child can show you by how they are. Those contrasting colors will be vibrant, knocking down any four walled stumbling blocks in their way, living on. I'll take that ticket every time.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Alchemetizing
We are the sum of our greatest and weakest parts combined, at times the weak links having the glittering edge on defining us. Flaws subconsciously tormenting, always reappearing, on an endless vicious cycle. The nuisances (or those who point them out) emerge to kick us down a peg just when we think we have a handle on them. The why is different for everyone but the how in which we try to fix them is usually common ground and for common reasons: to be happy. Self-help, affirmations, copious amounts of prescribed, legal and illegal drugs. Religion. Spirituality. Feigned ignorance. Physical exercise in place of them all. I've chosen to deal with mine using all of the above at one time or another, but in all those cases, the basis is to change the unsavory completely. To renounce the bad with a whirlwind of determination and gumption and delight in doing society and loved ones a solid. Acknowledge the little bastards, usually with a sigh or a snarl, pushing to be "better next time".
Turning tin into gold is a once thriving practice known as alchemy. Science, magic, and whatever else being used to transform something into something else more valuable. I came upon an idea linking the two together this past weekend, a provocative alternative to anyone who plays hard for Team Fix Yourself. Instead of grabbing the gnarly root and yanking it with ferocity, you allow yourself to follow it back to inception (childhood or adolescence), introduce yourself and invite it to brunch. Get to know it, embrace it, own it, love it. You are never rid of those things you give attention or effort to, so being at war is a big waste. The negative are as much a part of you as your DNA, and as hard to remove. If you're argumentative, strap on your litigious shoes and fight for important cases in a court room. So you transmute, in order not to transgress.
As I watched the five minutes of video, my knee jerk reaction-which in itself is one of my more minor yet niggling traits of doom-was a tilt of the head and a knitted brow. It was almost like this trusted sage speaking sagely to me was enabling us all to be a-holes. It takes honesty, energy and a swift kick to the comfort zone, but oppositional change is certainly attainable. To set oneself aflame is quite the ordeal mind you, but it's entirely possible.
I mused on it for the rest of the day to give the notion a fair shot. I jotted down a bullet list of the self actualized major offenders, and while doing so I had a light bulb. Try it and see for yourself.
The enumerations of shame I came up with weren't mind boggling, so there's that. I'm painfully aware of how stubborn I am, how independent to an alienating degree, how moody, how judgmental when confronted with judgment, how shamelessly I remain a joyous shopaholic, and most of all, how heinously hyper-analytical. Because I live in the maze of my thoughts like a Kodiak in it's cozy labyrinthine cave, I've come to know these things far longer. The difference was as I sat there, I think I finally managed to high five my big ol' bear. After we on-goingly meditate him down to more of a cuddly cub. It's taken 15 years or so, but fair enough. The flip side to those blighters are my fortitude in all matters, my leadership by example, my passionate pursuit of what I want, my distinct sense of style and where to find it, and that lovable bear yields what I write.
I haven't turned on myself and wagged a disapproving finger, as I automatically used to. I've simply chosen to alter the yucky thoughts in my head as they arise. I'm testing shit out in the field, recording data with less urgency and more "aaaah, that makes sense". I can't ever stop my fervent thinktitude, but I can turn it to a more accomodating speed with more light hearted outcomes. I can choose to shrug off rigidity and be flexible. I can pass by the shoe section and avert my gaze. I can accept help more often. Not with a sullen sulk for the rest of the hour/day, but with an ease and confidence.
As you become a "grown up" with responsibilities and obligations and stress, it gets easier and easier to shrug it all off and keep doing what you have to, compiling and vocalizing a litany of reasons why you can't do anything about it. I've challenged myself not to slide by in that way. I refuse to be an embittered husk, walking around pissed off at the imaginary oppressive juggernauts who are responsible. That is enemy number one of life as we have it, as far as I'm concerned.
The results are still coming in, as they will until I'm at long last, a complete and flawless individual. Spoiler alert: that ain't gonna happen. So I'll keep treading through the discomfort and learning curves, so I can meet up with the higher level interpreted me. The Lola 2.0 (or whatever .0 is relevant these days), will surely greet me with a smile.
Despite the trials, tribulations and general monotonous loops the human condition is comprised of, I'm all for it. It's worth the lost relationships-which will come back better over time if they are a mutual good thing-the angst fueled epiphanies and the romance with yourself deepening. It's a tempestuous best friend that you can't help but keep around (minus some hate, war, greed, fear mongering and looking to others to find answers), even as it kicks you in the shins or embarrasses you at a party. I advise revisions, they are more than worth their wait in gold. And they will be to those uplifted by them, too.
Turning tin into gold is a once thriving practice known as alchemy. Science, magic, and whatever else being used to transform something into something else more valuable. I came upon an idea linking the two together this past weekend, a provocative alternative to anyone who plays hard for Team Fix Yourself. Instead of grabbing the gnarly root and yanking it with ferocity, you allow yourself to follow it back to inception (childhood or adolescence), introduce yourself and invite it to brunch. Get to know it, embrace it, own it, love it. You are never rid of those things you give attention or effort to, so being at war is a big waste. The negative are as much a part of you as your DNA, and as hard to remove. If you're argumentative, strap on your litigious shoes and fight for important cases in a court room. So you transmute, in order not to transgress.
As I watched the five minutes of video, my knee jerk reaction-which in itself is one of my more minor yet niggling traits of doom-was a tilt of the head and a knitted brow. It was almost like this trusted sage speaking sagely to me was enabling us all to be a-holes. It takes honesty, energy and a swift kick to the comfort zone, but oppositional change is certainly attainable. To set oneself aflame is quite the ordeal mind you, but it's entirely possible.
I mused on it for the rest of the day to give the notion a fair shot. I jotted down a bullet list of the self actualized major offenders, and while doing so I had a light bulb. Try it and see for yourself.
The enumerations of shame I came up with weren't mind boggling, so there's that. I'm painfully aware of how stubborn I am, how independent to an alienating degree, how moody, how judgmental when confronted with judgment, how shamelessly I remain a joyous shopaholic, and most of all, how heinously hyper-analytical. Because I live in the maze of my thoughts like a Kodiak in it's cozy labyrinthine cave, I've come to know these things far longer. The difference was as I sat there, I think I finally managed to high five my big ol' bear. After we on-goingly meditate him down to more of a cuddly cub. It's taken 15 years or so, but fair enough. The flip side to those blighters are my fortitude in all matters, my leadership by example, my passionate pursuit of what I want, my distinct sense of style and where to find it, and that lovable bear yields what I write.
I haven't turned on myself and wagged a disapproving finger, as I automatically used to. I've simply chosen to alter the yucky thoughts in my head as they arise. I'm testing shit out in the field, recording data with less urgency and more "aaaah, that makes sense". I can't ever stop my fervent thinktitude, but I can turn it to a more accomodating speed with more light hearted outcomes. I can choose to shrug off rigidity and be flexible. I can pass by the shoe section and avert my gaze. I can accept help more often. Not with a sullen sulk for the rest of the hour/day, but with an ease and confidence.
As you become a "grown up" with responsibilities and obligations and stress, it gets easier and easier to shrug it all off and keep doing what you have to, compiling and vocalizing a litany of reasons why you can't do anything about it. I've challenged myself not to slide by in that way. I refuse to be an embittered husk, walking around pissed off at the imaginary oppressive juggernauts who are responsible. That is enemy number one of life as we have it, as far as I'm concerned.
The results are still coming in, as they will until I'm at long last, a complete and flawless individual. Spoiler alert: that ain't gonna happen. So I'll keep treading through the discomfort and learning curves, so I can meet up with the higher level interpreted me. The Lola 2.0 (or whatever .0 is relevant these days), will surely greet me with a smile.
Despite the trials, tribulations and general monotonous loops the human condition is comprised of, I'm all for it. It's worth the lost relationships-which will come back better over time if they are a mutual good thing-the angst fueled epiphanies and the romance with yourself deepening. It's a tempestuous best friend that you can't help but keep around (minus some hate, war, greed, fear mongering and looking to others to find answers), even as it kicks you in the shins or embarrasses you at a party. I advise revisions, they are more than worth their wait in gold. And they will be to those uplifted by them, too.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Blendship
As you get older, the need to maintain friendships dwindles. The want may never fade, but the dogged pursuit of unnecessary bros and subsequent compromise...it grows less urgent with time and maturity (hopefully). When a bond does last, however, it is a beautiful, awesome, life affirming thing. I had the privilege of spending time with two very special friends this past weekend (sparking a few new friendships and reviving a few old ones in the process). I was a bridesmaid in the wedding of one, and the house guest (for the wedding trip) of another. Couldn't have had one without the other. I'm thankful and delighted to witness the people they've become, for at times it seemed like we'd never mix up again.
Lifestyle is the king pin in relationships. Quitting a certain drug or getting married or deciding to be a lion tamer can either strengthen or snap a bond in twain. My particular friendship killer was moving to California to pursue my life goals and get the eff out of the blizzardry. It's a word. Before I left the first time, I knew I had a handful of friends that cared about me and my life and all that jazz. By the time I came back with my first kiddo in tow, that number was down significantly but I was knee deep in being a young, first time mom, so I didn't really notice. Kids are the number one killer of inane friendships, by the way, rightfully so. Then I filled in the gaps while I was back in town, re-connecting with the best of them and drinking my anxieties away. Drinking even a hangnail away, really.
Then I rallied and moved back to Cali, and those bonds that I cemented the three years I was back, took a hit. I suppose I played yo-yo with emotions, quite unintentionally. The visits I had back since to the ol' hometown have always been split between familial obligations and a want to keep those few lasting connections. It was often too much to do and too many to see for it to be satisfying, though. Then I joined Facebook-or the modern day town crier/gossip that doubles as your personal publicist who you check in with a minimum of 38 times a day-and it became both easier and harder to stay connected. I watched as the relationships I thought I had strained a bit under the contrast of closeness. I started not wanting to comment on photos or post my own, simply because, what's the point? We are different people day to day so how can you rely on any friendship, really?
So then the wedding trip came together. I was a bit nervous to be seeing long lost faces, as I was nervous to be staying out of town without my family by my side. Like NO family. Friend only, this time around. Plus I'd be staying with one friend and partaking in festivities with the other. The old twenty-something me would have blown a gasket at that loyalty clustercuss (ten points for that movie reference if you get it right). But instead of stressing (as the old me would have) I just went with it. I am so delighted that I did so, all weekend.
As I went through the events that surround both a three day off stint and a wedding, I realized some wonderful things. I realized that those who truly know you, will rise to meet your needs. You won't have to ask, they'll do you a solid every time. I realized that the closest person to you may still learn something new, something that you couldn't tell anyone before. Timing takes a big part in what is said. I learned that no matter how well you plan, you have to give yourself over to the moment, and if you picked your people right, you'll have a blast every time. The small stuff won't be a big deal, when the big stuff is so well preserved. I learned that even if you've gained a few pounds or lost a few hairs, the core you that is you, is shining on brilliantly, no matter what. And if you pick your people well, they love you for that shining brilliance alone.
I knew all of this before, but to realize it spontaneously again, made the whole experience all the more magical. Not that the raucous bar convos, the late night heart to hearts, the laughter, the MANY MANY drinks, the gorgeous rainbow, the sporadic silliness, the tearful tenderness, the relaxed elegance, the humble talent, the warm memories (past and presently made), the copious witty exchanges and above all the unconditional love didn't contribute...it did.
How thankful I am that finally, life is no longer a bunch of ingredients clobbering the next for palatable recognition, but rather every easy component mixing deliciously. To have those around to help in whatever way the are able make that happen for you, is a true joy.
I know I couldn't possible re-cap to a satisfying degree, so I won't try. The regurgitation is never as good as the meal itself, if you catch my breeze. Something sacred. I did have a wonderful time, dashed lightly with near panic attack inducing hangovers, but no matter. It was well worth it, all of it coming out in the wash of life's awesomeness. I looked into the eyes of my best friend, two times over that weekend, each pair reflecting a particular strand of myself, yet the best possible sum of it's whole. It's a good feeling, one I recall in the moments since, in their absence.
To my ladies, Jiffy and the Meerkat, I love thee always. And to my other lovelies: Max, Laruelini, the Chihuahua, Head, T-Dub, Adamantium, Mandita, Eric B, Effin' Mahoney, Molly J and the rest who I bonded with randomly...It was a pleasure and I can't wait to pick up where we left off.
Lifestyle is the king pin in relationships. Quitting a certain drug or getting married or deciding to be a lion tamer can either strengthen or snap a bond in twain. My particular friendship killer was moving to California to pursue my life goals and get the eff out of the blizzardry. It's a word. Before I left the first time, I knew I had a handful of friends that cared about me and my life and all that jazz. By the time I came back with my first kiddo in tow, that number was down significantly but I was knee deep in being a young, first time mom, so I didn't really notice. Kids are the number one killer of inane friendships, by the way, rightfully so. Then I filled in the gaps while I was back in town, re-connecting with the best of them and drinking my anxieties away. Drinking even a hangnail away, really.
Then I rallied and moved back to Cali, and those bonds that I cemented the three years I was back, took a hit. I suppose I played yo-yo with emotions, quite unintentionally. The visits I had back since to the ol' hometown have always been split between familial obligations and a want to keep those few lasting connections. It was often too much to do and too many to see for it to be satisfying, though. Then I joined Facebook-or the modern day town crier/gossip that doubles as your personal publicist who you check in with a minimum of 38 times a day-and it became both easier and harder to stay connected. I watched as the relationships I thought I had strained a bit under the contrast of closeness. I started not wanting to comment on photos or post my own, simply because, what's the point? We are different people day to day so how can you rely on any friendship, really?
So then the wedding trip came together. I was a bit nervous to be seeing long lost faces, as I was nervous to be staying out of town without my family by my side. Like NO family. Friend only, this time around. Plus I'd be staying with one friend and partaking in festivities with the other. The old twenty-something me would have blown a gasket at that loyalty clustercuss (ten points for that movie reference if you get it right). But instead of stressing (as the old me would have) I just went with it. I am so delighted that I did so, all weekend.
As I went through the events that surround both a three day off stint and a wedding, I realized some wonderful things. I realized that those who truly know you, will rise to meet your needs. You won't have to ask, they'll do you a solid every time. I realized that the closest person to you may still learn something new, something that you couldn't tell anyone before. Timing takes a big part in what is said. I learned that no matter how well you plan, you have to give yourself over to the moment, and if you picked your people right, you'll have a blast every time. The small stuff won't be a big deal, when the big stuff is so well preserved. I learned that even if you've gained a few pounds or lost a few hairs, the core you that is you, is shining on brilliantly, no matter what. And if you pick your people well, they love you for that shining brilliance alone.
I knew all of this before, but to realize it spontaneously again, made the whole experience all the more magical. Not that the raucous bar convos, the late night heart to hearts, the laughter, the MANY MANY drinks, the gorgeous rainbow, the sporadic silliness, the tearful tenderness, the relaxed elegance, the humble talent, the warm memories (past and presently made), the copious witty exchanges and above all the unconditional love didn't contribute...it did.
How thankful I am that finally, life is no longer a bunch of ingredients clobbering the next for palatable recognition, but rather every easy component mixing deliciously. To have those around to help in whatever way the are able make that happen for you, is a true joy.
I know I couldn't possible re-cap to a satisfying degree, so I won't try. The regurgitation is never as good as the meal itself, if you catch my breeze. Something sacred. I did have a wonderful time, dashed lightly with near panic attack inducing hangovers, but no matter. It was well worth it, all of it coming out in the wash of life's awesomeness. I looked into the eyes of my best friend, two times over that weekend, each pair reflecting a particular strand of myself, yet the best possible sum of it's whole. It's a good feeling, one I recall in the moments since, in their absence.
To my ladies, Jiffy and the Meerkat, I love thee always. And to my other lovelies: Max, Laruelini, the Chihuahua, Head, T-Dub, Adamantium, Mandita, Eric B, Effin' Mahoney, Molly J and the rest who I bonded with randomly...It was a pleasure and I can't wait to pick up where we left off.
Friday, March 15, 2013
The NSSDMD: Shitty Kids Need Love Too
The neighborhood kids we were once excited to befriend, are a lot more complicated to be friends with, turns out. Logan is trapped in the frantic middle, as this particular playground is also her home turf. We witness multiple unsavory acts and hear hellacious phrases from this Viking brood roaming the grounds. Separately, they're alright. They can focus past cuss words and physical lashings enough to converse on their favorite super heroes, or how school was that day. Lump them together, however and it's a disparaging, lowbrow extravaganza.
When Logan has been allowed to join, she turns into one of them herself. Upon return, Maybel catches grief simply for being younger and unable to tell her to back off. Us adults catch grief for expecting more of her and we have residual fights to that end. As yucky as those consequences are, I can't help but feel for the wild bunch outside, even as they disappoint and infuriate. I know they don't have anyone counteracting all the damage they sustain out there or they wouldn't be in this mess. We've tried to bridge the gap when we can-a pizza party here, a listening ear and positive word there-but we shan't help them over our own, especially when Logan gets ganged up on and hurt inevitably. Bullying is the new black (either giving or receiving), for so many kids.
We waffled on letting her outside to play for the first few months. We instructed her on how to avoid the undesirables while still accommodating her need to mix it up with her peers. Lordy knows she ain't innocent herself at times, but no one deserves to be harassed or made fun of en masse. After many trials and a few more errors, we concluded that no-mans land isn't worth it, and instead we will be accompanying her to the park, for social and physical exertion.
Only problem is, now she has to endure the kids carrying on without her, within ear/eye shot.For a social kid like her, it's torturous. She has to be the even odder man out, and the kids that once walked to school with us or enjoyed a juice box with on occasion, are now not so included. The stress we try to alleviate still rests on everyones' shoulders in a new way.
My way has always been to go solo if there's no one on the same page as me, while Logan prefers to chase down someone to play with regardless of conflict. It's been a challenge to meet in the middle. Now that she's older than a toddler, whatever bad influence she's exposed to rubs off instantly, out of sheer survival. How difficult it is, to resonate love and kindness and understanding, while she watches her peers shove the opposite at her constantly. And what a kerfuffle it is for those meanie-heads hacking it in society. Now and later.
Like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I believe that you can only replace negative with positive. It's Law of Attraction. I can't allow them to treat Logan with such disregard, but be so disgusted that I turn into an adult version of that. I can't single out Logan and stress her out incessantly over this stuff. She's almost eight (not twenty-eight), and has plenty time to right the wrongs within herself, and it's up to her anyway. More often she needs a hug and some quality time, not a lecture. I know if we choose kindness in the face of ugliness, we'll all be better for it no matter what the circumstances are.
Focus on yourself (which is the only element you really can control), keep your head up and ignore the others sipping on Haterade and slingin' mud. Lead by example and stay positive, even as you avoid it all together. I'll strive to keep her as fulfilled as possible without them in her sphere, until she finds a better fitting flock.
Kids getting the shit end of the stick, whether it's Logan assimilating or the neighbor kids demonstrating, the consequences of turd burger behaviour, the crap stress it puts on others and the difficult interpersonal bullshit we all have to wade through as humans, will always be there in some form. I'm thankful we have the option to flush it all away and start fresh, every day.
When Logan has been allowed to join, she turns into one of them herself. Upon return, Maybel catches grief simply for being younger and unable to tell her to back off. Us adults catch grief for expecting more of her and we have residual fights to that end. As yucky as those consequences are, I can't help but feel for the wild bunch outside, even as they disappoint and infuriate. I know they don't have anyone counteracting all the damage they sustain out there or they wouldn't be in this mess. We've tried to bridge the gap when we can-a pizza party here, a listening ear and positive word there-but we shan't help them over our own, especially when Logan gets ganged up on and hurt inevitably. Bullying is the new black (either giving or receiving), for so many kids.
We waffled on letting her outside to play for the first few months. We instructed her on how to avoid the undesirables while still accommodating her need to mix it up with her peers. Lordy knows she ain't innocent herself at times, but no one deserves to be harassed or made fun of en masse. After many trials and a few more errors, we concluded that no-mans land isn't worth it, and instead we will be accompanying her to the park, for social and physical exertion.
Only problem is, now she has to endure the kids carrying on without her, within ear/eye shot.For a social kid like her, it's torturous. She has to be the even odder man out, and the kids that once walked to school with us or enjoyed a juice box with on occasion, are now not so included. The stress we try to alleviate still rests on everyones' shoulders in a new way.
My way has always been to go solo if there's no one on the same page as me, while Logan prefers to chase down someone to play with regardless of conflict. It's been a challenge to meet in the middle. Now that she's older than a toddler, whatever bad influence she's exposed to rubs off instantly, out of sheer survival. How difficult it is, to resonate love and kindness and understanding, while she watches her peers shove the opposite at her constantly. And what a kerfuffle it is for those meanie-heads hacking it in society. Now and later.
Like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., I believe that you can only replace negative with positive. It's Law of Attraction. I can't allow them to treat Logan with such disregard, but be so disgusted that I turn into an adult version of that. I can't single out Logan and stress her out incessantly over this stuff. She's almost eight (not twenty-eight), and has plenty time to right the wrongs within herself, and it's up to her anyway. More often she needs a hug and some quality time, not a lecture. I know if we choose kindness in the face of ugliness, we'll all be better for it no matter what the circumstances are.
Focus on yourself (which is the only element you really can control), keep your head up and ignore the others sipping on Haterade and slingin' mud. Lead by example and stay positive, even as you avoid it all together. I'll strive to keep her as fulfilled as possible without them in her sphere, until she finds a better fitting flock.
Kids getting the shit end of the stick, whether it's Logan assimilating or the neighbor kids demonstrating, the consequences of turd burger behaviour, the crap stress it puts on others and the difficult interpersonal bullshit we all have to wade through as humans, will always be there in some form. I'm thankful we have the option to flush it all away and start fresh, every day.
Friday, February 8, 2013
The Matriarch Mess
Your parents are the most important relationship you have, I'd say. From the ground up, the way you relate to them and vice versa directs every other avenue you take in your life. Even the worst of the worst examples of the parental bond have a way of contrasting life so that either, you never pass on any endured unsavory-ness, or you learn enough by it to overcome and be better than they had been.
At times, familiarity breeds contempt, however. It seems that if you're a daughter, no one gets under your skin like your mom, and same for father and son. A same sex parent can be a handful, and I know for a fact they feel the same about us. I have two daughters of my own.
My mother came to stay with me and the fledgling fam over the holidays, a step in the process of moving here permanently. It both chagrins and delights me, the idea was hatched out of a mutual agreement on us being under the same roof for a myriad of reasons. It sounded great in theory, as most theories do. If I didn't sport the Mama Card already, the transition and adjustments might not have been so bumpy as they've frequently been. But I do and they have, all the while, life churning on around us, being effected by our fall out. Shades of how it was in my childhood, cascading back.
I love my mom. I respect her and I appreciate who she is, look up to her in many ways. In the most flattering, emulating the groundwork she laid with me, for my own kiddos. I always did, even when our relationship was nothing to be proud of. So why is it that I mentally flip her off so often, cringe at her insistent instruction? Has my own daughter started doing the same to me, at the tender age of seven? How far off is my eight month old daughter on that? Crap on a cracker, I say. Doesn't seem right or fair. Just flat out contradictory to the very nurturing nature that women posses.
You despise most in others that which you despise in yourself, and that saying makes the most sense when I reflect on shouting matches we have. My mom is an intelligent, stubborn, hard working, persevering lady. She expects the best of people, or at very least, ownership of the worst. I am not far off in those respects, she instilled all of her four children with those traits, painstakingly so at times. They have served us well for the most part, so it's not for naught. I can't speak for my sibs, but in my case, she bristles at me most for being the very way she is to me, back at her. Give it a second, it make sense.
It's my choice to take offense to the manner in which she relates to me, I've been privy to her personality long enough to let it roll of my shoulders, or remember that she means all of it with the best intent. To humor her, as she's earned it.
I understand where she's coming from, and she me. We both agree on most subjects enough to make a go of it, but the select issues we do NOT agree on kind of rip our bond a new one. She's the grandma of my kids, and her job is to spoil them and send them back to me to deal with the less appealing aspects of mothering. That's the perks of having grand kids, I thought. Her stance on that is different, however. She's a teacher and therefor lives to instruct no matter what. It just comes out of her, I notice, even when it violates the treaty du jour. I've asked for boundaries to be honored, and the same of hers in turn. But every few days, we have a go-round that results in sullen, iceberg existences from her or I, or both. We have to fix that, I'm tired of the place where I rest my head also being the place I bang it on the wall repeatedly. In order to do so, I have to ask questions and embrace the answers, no matter what they are.
In all honesty, I do wish that she was still in charge at times. That I was just a cog in the machine, not the systems operator. That I could magically regain my freedom. Party, sleep in and not have to give a rats' ass about anything. Maybe her being in close proximity, it's a constant subconscious reminder of that. With my mom now in my California life, the lines of difference between what I had then and what I have now, are all the more visible. The same for her then. Perhaps seeing me with my little ones, starting out in a new chapter of life at the age I'm at, reminds her that shes' in the latter chapters, even if this endeavor is a new exciting phase itself. And that's a lonely place to be. So it's more familiar/easier to charge ahead than trot alongside. Or maybe we're just both stubborn, used to being in the drivers seat and secretly like a good high stakes debate (as usual, I bet both). What silly creatures us women are, though equally complex and amazing.
To meet in the middle, we have to keep trying to understand each others perspective and be patient. God help us all, the patience. I need to organize my own thoughts and emotions and remember who I am and what's happening in this moment. Who I am, in this moment. Even my lovely mom, who I cherish in her own respect, shan't effect that if I'm for real. I think that's how moms still teach us, into our adult years. I hope to remember all of this in the future, if Logan/Maybel and I are ever in a similar predicament.
Unless there's no reason to, we'll keep trying to allow it to work. Family is the best of reasons to do so, even as they make you want to poke your eyes out with blunt spoons. Just have to roll up our sleeves and clean up whatever spills out.
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