Kid intensive morning. Connor spent Friday night at a friend's, watched a questionable movie (thinking about if, and how I should broach this topic with the friend's father), and says he was up til 4. A.M. His disposition seems to be ample evidence of that.
Any other morning Scott would be impossible to get up before 7:30, like when he has to go to school. Today my heart sank when I realized he was not going back to sleep; it was 7 a.m. Bye bye, early morning writing time.
Last week he took a hundred dollar bill to school. It was his Christmas gift from one of his grandfathers. I didn't realize this until I saw him flashing it around when I went to pick him up. To prevent this from occurring again I've hidden it, and pay the price of having to fend off questions about where it is.
He's got a buddy coming over eleven minutes ago. Meaning, that WAS the ETA. Since 7:00 when he got up Scott's been fretting over 'how long it's taking', and 'it's taking forever' and 'when is he coming' and 'how many minutes is that' and 'how many seconds is that'. This child has been here before, so a soundtrack of foreboding has been humming in the background. I dutifully made scones, but I'm anticipating that his mom is going to be all-too-eager for a few hour's freedom and will probably be dropping him. Gary took Connor to drum lessons and said he's stopping on the way home 'to pick up skis.' Darkly I admonished him to not linger. I remember what happened last time.
Yeah, some kid play dates are maintenance free--a child entertains my kid so I don't have to. But these two require a high level of hands-on to keep their hands off each other.
Car door slammed...
...and we're alone. My prediction was accurate; this was a drop-off. Gary's not home yet. Scott has pulled out the prized toy that he'd put away because he wasn't 'prepared to share it'. Richard has claimed his seniority as guest and wants it for himself. It's been 4 minutes. I'm tempted to tell them to go downstairs, but it may be wise to have them here where I can watch them. At least it saves me a trip downstairs.
I'm trying to come to terms with a conflict I have about keeping this blog. In some ways it seems like the ultimate in navel-gazing (and in the most pejorative, self-indulgent sense of the term). Who am I to think that my musings would be interesting to anyone? Who cares what kind of thought processes and evolution path I take in deciding whether to stay in my marriage, or leave it? Who cares about the particular ways that parenting small children rub me raw?
When I wander around in the blogosphere and read some of what's out there I'm even more discouraged. There is just so much really really good stuff out there.
This could be a vestige of this country's puritan heritage expressing through me: the prohibition against self-aggrandizement, calling attention to oneself, even thinking well enough of oneself to imagine that someone else would be interested in what I have to say. The audacity!
3 comments:
I so enjoy the way you see the world, and your insights about it.
The blogosphere would be a lesser place without your navel-gazing.
See you soon!
Okay - kid being kids - that's fine. All of use who have kids know all about that and can relate to what you're going through.
But when I get to the "Who cares..." bit - that's not fine!
We all need to do some 'navel gazing'at times. We all need to re-evaluate what we're doing and why. Yes, you could keep it all to yourself and try to work it out. Or lean over the fence and talk to the neighbour. Or to the counselor.
To try to express and sort out where your life is going is not being 'self indulgent'; it is not "self-aggrandizing"; it is not "calling attention to yourself" in an improper kind of way. It is a contemporary form of journalling. You wrote the other day about the value of keeping your paper journal - make this do the same job - and have the added benefit of the occasional contribution from your readers. And you probably have many readers who don't stop to comment.
As for "Who cares...?" I suspect you have a number of very caring people about to pounce on you.
"Who cares? Yes, potentially your blog, and mine, and everybody elses, is there for billions of people to read. But 99.9999% of them will never know it exists.
What does matter is that one, two, three or ten people will read it and respond in a way that lends support to you and what you are trying to say.
If I wasn't 10,000km away I'd be knocking on your door right now... but as it is I'm only the distance of a keyboard away.
As for all the "good stuff" out there... by whose judgement? It's all relative. I wake up every day and wonder what's new on your blog.
Thank you, Doug, and Lori, for the smile you brought me.
I didn't mean to sound
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