welcome to the danger zone

Down the Rabbit Trail…

Gung Hay Fot Choy!

Okay…so I’m full of insight and wit this evening, burstin’ at the
seams actually. It’s been a long day. I’m about to kill my brain with a
dose of The Vampire Diaries. Andy is coming home tomorrow. I am making
Taco Mac n Cheese for the superbowl party (that’s right, I got out of
baked ziti and I’ve never made Taco Mac n Cheese but I am sure it will
be awesome, because just thinking about it makes my mouth water). I’m
getting this stupid hair cut this weekend (so tired of Patty Duke hair)
and there’s nothing that I want to do more than sleep right now. Well,
besides git bloggity that is.

So I was thinking today while driving (both are something I do a lot of)
that if the lesson you learn from having really bad parents is to be a
better parent, did your parents really fail you? Or did they teach you
one of the most valuable lessons of all by showing you what not to do? I
am trying to find silver linings in a lot of things recently, because
it is the dead of winter and I am struggling with my annual lack of
sunlight blues – I don’t want that full blown black cloud landing…I am
in no mood for that struggle right now. But let’s put this train back
on the track…we’ll talk clouds later. Back to parenting or the lack
there of… I was pondering if there are really any parents who truly do
not love their children, other than those who lack the capacity for
that emotion such as the mentally ill. This question arose because I
often talk about how in bad relationships, the argument is always: “but I
love…” and my response is “I love Ben and Jerry’s – doesn’t mean it’s
healthy for me” so I extrapolated that to parenting. I guess part of my
quandry is that a lot of people don’t understand how a parent can hurt a
child, but I do understand. That is not to say I approve or condone it,
but I understand that in a moment of weakness your rage overtakes your
love and you do something regrettable. The same rage that we readily
forgive in our partners and other adults when it pertains to another
adult, we can’t comprehend when it happens to a child. I’ve been
struggling a lot with the number of people I see who claim to love their
children but suck at being parents, but then also tell me how their
parents sucked as well raising them. What is the element of character
that allows some of us to recognize our parents failings as parents and
do better for our own children, and those who just repeat the bad
lessons inflicted upon them with their children? There’s such a thin
line between those of us who have had sleepless days and nights with a
crying child and got through them without losing it and those who
don’t.  And those of us who need so much to be liked that we make our
kids our friends instead of being a parent and setting boundaries. What
makes me so different from the person who can’t get her child to listen,
when mine does? What fundamental lesson wasn’t imparted at the right
time. I know there’s a whole field of child psychology out there to
clarify and explain all of this to some degree, but I can’t imagine
there is some ultimate definition. Otherwise, we could just follow a
prescribed method of child rearing and all would be well. I’m just glad I
didn’t screw Andy up, because when I sometimes look at some of the
families I work with I think there but for the luck of the draw go I.

Now back to black clouds. I saw a commercial the other day for some
other psychotropic medication or another that showed a depressed woman
being followed by a cloud a depression. If you should see this
commercial let me clarify. That cloud in reality is neither small nor
grey. Clouds of depression are black, large and loom, and don’t trail
you like lost puppy. They stalk you. So don’t be fooled into thinking
that is what depression is like. Remember your tv lies.

Pet Parents. WTF? No, you did not birth your puppy or kitten, or even
baby chinchilla. I, having labored and gestated and all that crap, take
serious offense with the term pet parent. You may love your pet, and I
respect that, but when it dies you can get another. If I lose a child,
they are not replaceable. You can leave your “baby” at home alone. You
can put the food out on the floor and it will eat. You can put it in the
basement if you are having guests. None of these things are appropriate
parenting for human children. So stop call yourself parents. You are
owners. You had to get a license for that animal. If you decide you
don’t want it any more, you can give it away or take it to a pound. If
it gets terminally ill and you don’t have money to pay the medical
bills, you can euthanize, painful though that may be.  It will not tell
you it hates you, or keep you up nights worrying about its safety since
if that’s an issue you can lock it in the basement.  So just stop.

Finally, why is there no reality series about people pitching networks
the next most stupid reality series? Again, decline of Western
Civilization.

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2 responses

  1. I would imagine that your job is very difficult and it sounds like, now that you’ve been there a few months, the brunt of it is hitting you. No?

    6 February 11 at 10:49 am

    • It is more frustrating than anything else. You know I have both perfectionist and control issues, and hold people to my personal standard…so while I can totally understand a messy house, I have no patience for parents who take no responsibility for their choices or falter in supporting a child’s education. Alas, I am reminded daily it will never be a perfect world, so I keep looking for the small successes and try being grateful for just planting seeds.

      8 February 11 at 8:59 pm

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