Protected: A Mamatography Challenge – Week Six

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He Will Not Carry Guilt

I suppose all stories are different. Yours is not the same as mine, and mine is not the same as hers. I grew up in a home where guilt trips were the family vacation of choice. This continued well into my adulthood as my mother pounded the guilt she must have felt into me, making it mine to carry. Nothing was ever good enough. I did not clean my house good enough. I did not visit her often enough. I did not put my life on hold enough. I did not close the door to my father, because she decided she didn’t love him anymore. I will not even get into the guilt she made me feel for being born with heart problems, or the ensuing five open heart surgeries I would have and the care she would give as she took time off from her job to tend to me. I repeated I am sorry so many times, it became the basis of our conversations.

Was this a reflection of her mirror? Was she casting  her own guilt on us for the times she left us home alone while she went out on dates, to parties, dabbled with her drug of choice, off to play soft-ball or to bowl? And yes, she was entitled to those things, entitled to a life outside of her children. What she was not entitled to was the physical and mental abuse she dished out to my brother and me. What she was not entitled to was to make us live our lives with an overwhelming amount of guilt which she dumped on our shoulders for her own misgivings.

I try very hard with my daughters not to take them along on these guilt trips, though I realize at times I fail. Because she lived with her for eight years, my eldest daughter is very much like my mother, in the fact that she is both mentally abusive and loves to pack a big ole sack of guilt and pull me along for yet another trip. And admittedly so, I join her for the ride and I retaliate throwing it back her way and then – and then I feel more guilty than I did before because I have allowed her my power, given in to the trip and carried the guilt of others actions which have caused our relationship so much damage. And then I say the mandatory, “I am sorry” so we can move beyond the latest scuffle.

A few days ago I read an article on a news blog in which the author was stating she wished there were a way for all Momma’s to unite, without the judging of how we raise our children, without the criticism when we do not see eye to eye. In the end she decided this was impossible because of the “Mean Mommies” in the mix. The ones who turn their nose up at other parents, the ones who mock another’s parenting style, the ones who are obviously so much better at parenting than we are. In reading this article I was reminded of a day in the park with my Little Man a few weeks ago. I was reminded of the Momma who decided I was not raising my son right, because I had yet to teach him to say he was sorry. I was reminded of the fact that she returned to the park bench where her friend sat waiting, pointed at my son and went on to talk about how he must have learning disabilities because he could not say, “I am sorry”. I commented on this article with a reflection of this particular incident in the park. Before I tell you about the assault on my character which followed, you will probably want to know what transpired at the park that day.

There is a little park in our town behind a museum which is normally empty when Riley and I visit there for a play date. I like it this way; I am a long time sufferer of agoraphobia and though I have been able to overcome the most difficult symptoms of this mental affliction, I still prefer less crowded places. On the day in question there were two women along with their four kids and a couple with their three children already playing at the park. Though this did make me a bit uneasy, Riley had already seen the slide and was running straight for it. He was obviously younger than everyone there and because he is more accustomed to singular play I stayed right on top of him. (Well, that and I have an unnatural fear of people and their intentions.)

There is a three-year old at the top of the slide who continues to sit there as Riley Jabe climbs the stairs, of which I am standing next to. I am telling Riley to be careful while he waits three-quarters of the way up on the ladder. He moves up two more steps and he touches the boy on the shoulder. I remind him he needs to wait his turn, just as the other kid starts to scream and cry. I move my Little Man down a few steps, the other mother comes to the bottom of the slide, encourages her son down and begins to check him for any signs of injury. There are none, Riley really only touched the little boys shoulder. He did not push him, he did not hit him and he did not grab him. Of course I realize he may have done any one of these things, had I not been standing there to remind him to wait his turn and to physically move him down a few steps – he is two years old and though close to it, he is not perfect. As the other mother consoles her son she says to him, “It’s okay, ask for an apology. I am sure the little boy didn’t mean to hurt you”, or something along those lines. I am thinking to myself, I am not sure if Riley has ever said I am sorry before, when the other mother looks up at me and says, “We will expect an apology” in a most indignant tone.

All I could think to say was, “I am sure he is sorry he touched your son, but I highly doubt he will say he is sorry”. I was turning towards Riley with the intention of asking him to say he was sorry, when she asks me why he wasn’t going to apologize. I sort of chuckled when I replied, “Well he’s never said those words before”. Before I could get another word out of my mouth, to her or to Riley, she looks up the slide at him and asks me with condemnation dripping off of her tongue, “Why hasn’t he said those words before? How old is he anyway?” I answered her honestly, “Well he’s two, but he has never been asked to say he was sorry”. Before I was able to finish my thoughts she was walking away, back to the park bench next to her friend, literally pointing at my Little Sugar Man and loudly stating he must have a learning disability since he is two years old and cannot say he is sorry. And of course the underlying insinuation being, what kind of mother am I anyway, that I have yet to teach my son to apologize?

Had she waited for the rest of my answer, she may have learned the following. He is a late talker and we are lucky when we can understand one thought he is trying to convey. Yes he has words; yes he says please and thank you – they apply to his life and being from the south, I am a stickler for manners. However he has never done anything to warrant, “I am sorry” and is too young to understand the difference between “I am sorry I hurt you” and “I am sorry you feel that way”. Of course it may not have mattered if she would have let me finish because I was able to convey these things on the news blog repeatedly as my character and parenting skills were attacked, insulted and criticized for three days by yet another stranger. Apparently because I have not enforced, made, taught my son how to say I am sorry I am raising a child lacking in empathy and as a result he will grow up to have an antisocial personality disorder.

I am so glad to know this. I am so glad this stranger has so much insight into my life, in how I interact with my son, the depth of respect I have already instilled into my two older children, to know I am doing it all wrong. She must be able to see into the future, to know my Little Man will grow up to be antisocial. (And you know he just may. I mean, I am – but it has more to do with my fear of people and their intentions, than it does with my inability to empathize with someone’s emotions.)  I wonder if she even realizes she has proven the authors point that we cannot band together in unity as women, as mother’s, simply because we are too busy judging and criticizing how others raise their children?

Now I realize you may think I am crazy because I do not think Riley has done anything which warrants an apology, as all children do things which are wrong. He is no exception, but he is not a mean child; he is sweet and gentle by nature. Saying you’re sorry implies you have done something intentionally and/or with malice, it implies you know what you have done is against the rules; it implies GUILT. Given the fact I am not sure how much Riley actually understands given his limited vocabulary, it is unrealistic for me to expect him to carry guilt or feel regret when he makes a mistake, not to mention I do not want him to. At this point in his life anything he does wrong is an innocent mistake, it is not intentional. He is still learning; he is learning what his words mean, he is learning that for every action there is a reaction. He does not purposefully head butt me, but when he does he gets a sad look on his face and hugs me. He shows empathy for my pain and his little pats on my back as he sweetly hugs me, convey what the words, “I am sorry” never could. And my guess is, when the time is right and when I am certain he understands everything he needs to in order to feel a healthy amount of regret, I will instill in him the importance of a genuine apology. There are plenty of mistakes for him to make and feel guilt over in the future and you can bet, I will be the first one to put him in his place and remind him of how important it is to respect and be respected.

But for today, he will not carry guilt.

©KLynn Miller
February 17, 2012

Greener Than I Used to Be

Over the past five years I have made very small changes in our lives, slow changes so as not to upset the apple cart. First I started with recycling our bottles and slowly it has grown to the point where we have more recyclables than we do garbage come trash-day. The only bad thing I can find in this scenario is, the recycle truck only comes through our neighborhood once a week. I am sure I miss things which could be recycled so maybe I should find a bigger recycle bin.

Recently I have become more aware of many things we use around our home, wasteful choices we make and habits formed over a lifetime which will affect the world forever. That’s right – I said it. Choices I made even yesterday in the midst of my new awakening, will affect the world forever. What does this say about the years of choices I made while being unaware, or perhaps in denial, of my actions? Just like with all regrets, I will put this one behind me and move beyond it. In order to do so I will have to implement changes in our lives which will make a difference for future generations. How do I get everyone in my home on-board the Going Green Express? *Well, lucky for me I have a wonderfully understanding husband and if I can show him a reason why this is better for our family, make a flowchart and a list of easily followed instructions he will gladly follow suit. Our son is merely twenty-seven months old; he will become the man we raise him to be.

You can pick up any cleaning supply and read the label for yourselves; the ingredient list is long and filled with chemicals we have never heard of, much less can we pronounce many of them. We leave lights on around the house, TV’s blaring and radios playing in the background. We smoke our cigarettes and throw butts out the window while we drive down the road. They catch afire, flames burning out of control as they engulf trash along our highways. Diapers overflow from pails dumped into landfills, rotting with urine and feces, causing toxic gasses and disease. I suppose this list could grow on forever, but I think you understand where I am coming from.

So what changes have I made in our household and how far will I take the Going Green Express? I can honestly admit I do not know how far I will go. Sometimes I grab hold of something and I do not let go until everything is in line. I do need to be honest with myself; I am spoiled. I love air-conditioning. I love my SUV. I love packing my Prince up in his car-seat and taking a road trip. I love soft, fuzzy, clean clothes. On the other hand, I dislike so many things which have overflowed inside our home. I dislike plastic toys – but they are everywhere. When I look at replacing some of them with more natural materials, I am appalled at the cost. Disposable diapers – what a nasty, wasteful, unhealthy choice so many of us have made for generations. Household cleaners make my asthma kick in, making it difficult for me to breathe.   My hands are left dry and my skin cracks. I worry about Riley Jabe crawling, walking, running across the floor – bending over to pick up a piece of his fallen snack and plopping it in his mouth after it has laid on a floor cleaned with chemicals I cannot pronounce.

Is it enough to find a happy medium and will this suit our family better than a full on assault of “going green”? These are questions I will have to answer in time, as we learn a new way to live. To date these are the changes I have made (slowly) over the past five years and I do plan on maintaining within our home.

I must be honest here – while the Rockin’ Green does seem to get my laundry clean, it does not offer much in the way of “smelling clean”. Of course this could be the fragrance I picked, or I could simply not be using enough of it so I am going to keep on trying. If you have a “green” detergent you use and are happy with why not leave a little note in the comment section. I have the same issue with the wool dryer balls I am using BUT they do work. My clothes are static and lint free and since this is what we are looking for in dryer balls they find themselves in the keep drawer.

I also have to admit going green is not the least expensive thing I have ever done. However I have made the flowcharts, researched and penciled out the math. I honestly believe that while some things (like laundry detergent) are always going to be more expensive and I will have to purchase them at the same rate as non-green cleaners, purchasing other going green products will in the end save me money and even pay for themselves. For instance, the new light-bulbs claim to last for three to five years. Yes, they do cost me more now – but do you know how many times I had to replace the same lamp bulb two years ago?   This is not even to mention the difference in my electric bill; though it may only save me pennies a day per light socket, it does add up by years end.

I know we still have a long way to go on the Going Green Express,  just as I know the importance in making these changes. Do I believe my family and I can save the world?   No – but I do believe we can change our little corner of it.

 

For more information on recycling, going green and reasons you should, please follow these links:

©KLynn Miller

*I have been asked by DH to make a notation, so here it goes. He does not need a flowchart, but what he does need is to know the new products I fill our home with will work, without putting us into bankruptcy. Oh and, “Remember – sometimes you just need to bleach the crude out of things!” I can understand and agree with all of those things, if it gets him aboard the Going Green Express without too much fuss. (Don’t look now, but that bottle of bleach on top of the dryer, has been there for at least four years. The same bottle. Shhh – please do not tell him we are not actually USING the bleach!)