![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Look, kid. I don't like you and you don't like me. But we're stuck with each other for at least the next eight years*. So let's try to compromise and work together to get through this as easily as possible.
…no, no, no. Of course I don't say that to the Junebug, for a million reasons, and the fact that it wouldn't work even a little bit is of course the least of those reasons. What is real, though, is that the bit where I was his favorite parent has ended. Remember back when I was like nine months pregnant and it was tears if daddy insisted on carrying him up the stairs instead of mama? Yeah those days are long gone. These days, if I come to the door of his room - not actually IN his room - to ask what he wants for breakfast, he sobs so hard he goes fetal. "Don't come, Mama!"
I have extremely mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, of course……ouch. On the other hand…you mean I have to spend more time with the Flumpy Baby of Squishy Adorableness, and Mr. E has to do more coping with the Twoddler** of Whyyyy and Don't Wipe Me and But NO!? Uh…oh no, Br'er Fox, that sounds terrible. ¬__¬
The chill out project has been, uh, tested this week. Man, I know that an extremely privileged life doesn't mean that shit never happens, it means that you have the resources to cope with what life throws at you. I was trying to remind myself of that when I was standing outside of a closing daycare with two kids, staring at the big empty backseat of the car where I forgot to put the carseat back, with the Junebug unceasingly asking me "Why you forget the carseat, Mama? Why?" We did get home, though, and the car didn't even get towed or anything. And I have been doing a lot of thinking about this poem:
( Read more... )
I know about the tigers, I know about the cliff, I know about the mice. But I am trying to notice the moments when they are all in the future, and what I have, right now, just in the present, is a momentary strawberry. A moment when I'm driving alone and I see the eucalyptus trees in the fog. A moment when I'm playing with Rocket and he's beaming. A moment when the kids are both asleep and Mr. E is hugging me. These good moments.
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*I think ten is the earliest you can go to boarding school
**Perfect word invented by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
veek
…no, no, no. Of course I don't say that to the Junebug, for a million reasons, and the fact that it wouldn't work even a little bit is of course the least of those reasons. What is real, though, is that the bit where I was his favorite parent has ended. Remember back when I was like nine months pregnant and it was tears if daddy insisted on carrying him up the stairs instead of mama? Yeah those days are long gone. These days, if I come to the door of his room - not actually IN his room - to ask what he wants for breakfast, he sobs so hard he goes fetal. "Don't come, Mama!"
I have extremely mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, of course……ouch. On the other hand…you mean I have to spend more time with the Flumpy Baby of Squishy Adorableness, and Mr. E has to do more coping with the Twoddler** of Whyyyy and Don't Wipe Me and But NO!? Uh…oh no, Br'er Fox, that sounds terrible. ¬__¬
The chill out project has been, uh, tested this week. Man, I know that an extremely privileged life doesn't mean that shit never happens, it means that you have the resources to cope with what life throws at you. I was trying to remind myself of that when I was standing outside of a closing daycare with two kids, staring at the big empty backseat of the car where I forgot to put the carseat back, with the Junebug unceasingly asking me "Why you forget the carseat, Mama? Why?" We did get home, though, and the car didn't even get towed or anything. And I have been doing a lot of thinking about this poem:
( Read more... )
I know about the tigers, I know about the cliff, I know about the mice. But I am trying to notice the moments when they are all in the future, and what I have, right now, just in the present, is a momentary strawberry. A moment when I'm driving alone and I see the eucalyptus trees in the fog. A moment when I'm playing with Rocket and he's beaming. A moment when the kids are both asleep and Mr. E is hugging me. These good moments.
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*I think ten is the earliest you can go to boarding school
**Perfect word invented by
veek
