I've been thinking about this subject even more than usual, recently. A young couple of my close acquaintance has recently welcomed a baby; another young friend recently lost a parent; and the news is full of children losing their parents to drug overdoses. It all makes me wonder...
Where is the line? When is it selfish and wrong to do things for ourselves, and when is it right? I get that there's no excuse to overuse addictive drugs. I get that everybody makes mistakes. But how does a typical parent know that he or she is doing the right things? Where is the line? Is it okay to drink two beers, but not three? Is it okay to drive 5 miles above the posted speed, but not 10? How do we help every parent do "their" best for their children? How do we rise above being a disappointment to our children?
So what about me? Am I doing it right? My parenting style is "benevolent neglect" (a phrase I found online somewhere and immediately appropriated). I provide my kids with health and safety, and let them experiment within those boundaries as they like. One kid has gone deeply tech; one kid is a health food and yoga junkie. Will there be fallout some day? Will the techie wish I'd made him stay in piano lessons? Will the foodie be sorry I didn't make her continue in sports? Will those decisions, or any of hundreds of others, be THE THING that causes one or both of them to fail at a crucial moment?
For six months now, I've been sitting at home, trolling the Internet for a new job. I'm also back in college, and trying hard to do projects at home while I have time. But what really worries me is the impression my kids have of me. Are they secretly concerned that I'm never going to get a job? Do they think I must have been a bad employee at my last job (of 21+ years) since I've had such trouble finding a new one? There have certainly been days when I've wondered if they'd be better off without me. Actually, that's a thought I have frequently. I know I cannot act on that thought, but it sure is tempting sometimes. I just hope that, at least eventually, they'll realize that I really put effort into finding a job, regardless of my success at being offered one. Because, if there's one thing I never want any kid to feel, it's disappointment in his or her parent.
Wednesday, October 5, 2016
Saturday, August 6, 2016
Well, That Took A While...
It has been four years since I wrote my first blog post. I'm not sure why, except to use the generic catch-all - I've been busy.
Over the last four years, my divorce has been finalized, My Beauty has completed a year of college, and My Beast has finished 10th grade. We've adopted or otherwise come to be the caretakers of six cats, five of whom still live with us (one moved in with a neighbor). We still have our Cockapoo, Phantom, named for Danny Phantom of Nickelodeon, not for the opera. I've become the sole owner of the home in which the kids, animals, and I live. And I have a bunch of other "kids" - met through my children, and spiritually adopted.
For 21+ years, I had a job I enjoyed, working for a boss I adored. I still adore him, but he retired, and I'm unemployed. It is difficult to find a new job after so long. I'm either over-qualified, or I don't have a four year degree. So, I've gone back to college, and that keeps me reasonably occupied while I continue my job search.
But what I really want to talk about is THE SLIDE. I have, since the day I found out that my job was ending, felt like I'm standing at the top of it, on a narrow platform that isn't completely stable. It lists; trembles. It would be so easy to go down that slide, and my struggling psyche wants to take that ride. But the slide is long, and greased. I don't know that I'll be able to return. I know that going down that slide will take me away from everything that matters to me. My kids and animals give me a reason to resist. I have to make sure they have what they need, so I have to stay on the platform.
But the slide is so tempting. At the bottom there are no responsibilities. I can just sleep. No more trying to find an employer who will appreciate my abilities; no more hiding the hurt from a failed marriage. Just no more.
Over the last four years, my divorce has been finalized, My Beauty has completed a year of college, and My Beast has finished 10th grade. We've adopted or otherwise come to be the caretakers of six cats, five of whom still live with us (one moved in with a neighbor). We still have our Cockapoo, Phantom, named for Danny Phantom of Nickelodeon, not for the opera. I've become the sole owner of the home in which the kids, animals, and I live. And I have a bunch of other "kids" - met through my children, and spiritually adopted.
For 21+ years, I had a job I enjoyed, working for a boss I adored. I still adore him, but he retired, and I'm unemployed. It is difficult to find a new job after so long. I'm either over-qualified, or I don't have a four year degree. So, I've gone back to college, and that keeps me reasonably occupied while I continue my job search.
But what I really want to talk about is THE SLIDE. I have, since the day I found out that my job was ending, felt like I'm standing at the top of it, on a narrow platform that isn't completely stable. It lists; trembles. It would be so easy to go down that slide, and my struggling psyche wants to take that ride. But the slide is long, and greased. I don't know that I'll be able to return. I know that going down that slide will take me away from everything that matters to me. My kids and animals give me a reason to resist. I have to make sure they have what they need, so I have to stay on the platform.
But the slide is so tempting. At the bottom there are no responsibilities. I can just sleep. No more trying to find an employer who will appreciate my abilities; no more hiding the hurt from a failed marriage. Just no more.
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