And so I learned to take responsibility. And my life began to fill up with things that mattered to me. As I took care of
For the first time since I can remember, I was truly able to appreciate the gifts I had in my life. Basic things like sight and mobility, living parents and some solid skills. I started to validate myself, and to aim higher, and to make progress again. A lot of it was internal stuff: developing self-love and learning to have healthy relationships, but some of it was external too. I got a better job, and lost some weight. I stopped getting into debt and started to save.
He looked baffled. His mouth hung open, and his eyes searched the room and my face looking for the right thing to say. What phrase could he spit out that would make this moment stop so he could keep going about his game?
My kids would pinch each other or say nasty things to one another, and then I would step in, demand an apology, and then lecture my kids on decency and respect before I went back to cleaning or typing. We repeated this awful dance dozens of times a day to no effect. My kids were acting like tyrants, and I was acting like a mother who just needed them to shut up and sit down for five minutes.
It’s not a perfect system, and my kids still act like monsters, but I can see them thinking through their actions more closely now. Yesterday, my youngest was needling at her brother’s last nerve, and my oldest kiddo walked over to her and said, “Hey, how would you feel if he kept jumping on your legs and yelling your name really loud?” She was too young to rational this, but in a parenting win for me, I was proud to see that my oldest, my eye-rolling, knows-everything-about-everything-Mr-attitude tween, was trying to teach his little sister the lessons that I have been trying to teach him.
But the thing is, there was nothing right to say at that moment. My kid needed to take steps toward accountability and not depend on me to permit him to skirt the growing problem. I genuinely was sick and tired of intervening in my children’s drama, and it was time for me to correct my lazy parenting and hold them answerable for their own crappy choices.
Our family fell into a weirdly, uncomfortable new normal that included having to live with being constantly low-grade annoyed with each other. We got lazy with one another and words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ slipped further away from our daily speech. Getting through the day in one piece without someone having a meltdown became a goal. Without the release of taking breaks from one another, a luxury that school and work afforded each of us created a household of anxious, exhausted, grouchy people.
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owerPC to Intel transition and I got to say that went surprisingly smooth. But it is important to keep in mind what your expectations are. As a software developer I know how hard this kind of things is. If you expect absolutely everything to work flawlessly from day one, then your experience will be different. I have seen people describe the PowerPC to Intel transition as hell, but that tends to be people with a rather naive view of what a transition entails. Day one can be rough if you use a wide variety of non-Apple software, but the point is that things improved rapidly.Drinking allows you to live a fantasy life in which you are cool and smooth and successful. Everything is possible when you drink. Sinking that first beer you wonder why on earth you have ever been anxious.
“I do not accept your apology, but I will accept changed behavior, now tell me what you plan to do.” These are the words that I find myself saying lately. The idle apologies that are more performative than teachable moments are no longer acceptable here, and my kids know it.
My oldest kid had snatched a video game controller out of his brother’s hands and took over his game, leaving his little brother crying and babbling on about how much he hates being home. I walked into the living room to see what the commotion was about, and without looking up, my oldest son gave a monotonous, well-rehearsed, meaningless, “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.” His eyes never left the screen.
When my kids act out, I tell them that they need to change their behavior, not say the right words to appease the offended. But that isn’t enough; they have to sit with me and talk through how they will change their behavior. I listen. They have to talk about how their actions made another person feel. I listen. They have to tell me how they would feel if someone acted out similarly toward them. I listen.
“But Mom! You’re supposed to accept my apology because you’re the MOM, Mom!” His confusion that I stepped out of this dance said it all. I was part of the problem, and I was refusing to do my part.
I recently started a new job, and I’m in that phase where I’m constantly bombarded with new and unfamiliar concepts, from company vocabulary to industry know-how. The learning curve is steep. At every meeting, I take furious notes, trying to soak in as much information as possible.
When you put the drink down, you are left with reality. This is why I drank, you realise. The limitations of your talent, work ethic, attention span. But you might recognize too how much you have achieved, how much you already have. That you are a survivor.
It’s not a perfect system, and my kids still act like monsters, but I can see them thinking through their actions more closely now. Yesterday, my youngest was needling at her brother’s last nerve, and my oldest kiddo walked over to her and said, “Hey, how would you feel if he kept jumping on your legs and yelling your name really loud?” She was too young to rational this, but in a parenting win for me, I was proud to see that my oldest, my eye-rolling, knows-everything-about-everything-Mr-attitude tween, was trying to teach his little sister the lessons that I have been trying to teach him.