A difficult thing about parenting is meeting your child’s challenges with them as a parent and not as your hurt inner child. So many things that our children have to face down, be it problems with school, siblings, self-image, friends, uncontrollable consumer lust, sugar – whatever, are so triggering. So, so triggering. In fact you’ve never really been triggered until your child comes to you with the exact same fucking trauma that you once had to stare down, possibly still stare down. Possibly not totally successfully.
On one hand, not being able to swoop in and fix all problems is extremely difficult. You want to, by God and Toutatis, but what can you do? You cannot make your child any better at maths or any better at sport or any less odd or any more popular. You cannot kick in the bully’s door and throttle it. I mean, seeing as how angry you are you probably could, but you’d better not.
And the grudges! Jesus Christ, I mean – I’ve got enough of my own to be getting on with, let alone taking on any grudges I must now bear against people who have wronged my progeny.
If there is a single person out there who wonders if they have pissed me off, then they have. And if they think I have forgotten about it, then I haven’t. There’s probably a voodoo doll of them on my voodoo doll shelf in my room. That feeling, that Kill Bill I WANT TO END YOU feeling is timesed by 90billion and then set on fire when it’s something to do with my child, due to all the howling, insane parental hormones plus self-righteous anger. Plus all that deflection, projection, PTSD and probably a tiny bit of sleep deprivation and hangover.
On the other hand, knowing that you cannot (and probably must not) do anything should be a sort of relief. This is not about you, it’s about them, as much as it feels so very extremely personal, like this is going on in your actual knicker-drawer. And the only thing you can do, the only change to can effect, is to do the I Hear You thing as mentioned in a previous post, should they choose to talk to you about any of this crap.
Anyway, that’s what’s on my mind right now. How about you?
Kill Bill. I watched that whenever it came out (pre kids). I only get it properly now. I reckon every mother would do a total Uma for their kids. Sword, snakes, the whole shebang
Irony is, I couldn’t possibly watch anything that violent – or long – now!
Totally resonates with me …. advice for when the protagonist then moves into the house across the shocking road?!?!?!!!
Sneak over in the dead of night and spray a giant penis on the lawn in weedkiller. Not big, smart or clever, but I bet you’d feel better ever time you saw it!
* every * time
I love this!