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I spent the whole of Wednesday buried under my covers feeling sorry for myself. Paige and I have been fighting like cats and dogs as of late, maneuvering our way through the typical mother daughter dynamics (I hate you! I love you!). I’m not exaggerating when I say that there have been some knock down drag out screaming matches and threats of boycotting each other – 4-ever!
It’s completely unrelenting.
I think what’s difficult about this whole mother-daughter dynamic is the fact that I am a motherless mother. I have been going through this whole parenting shtick without a reference point or prior experiences to draw back on. Nothing in my childhood resembles what I am going through right now and it’s hard, so hard, to imagine that we’ll walk away from the battlefield stronger and more resilient. It seems inconceivable in this moment.
Maybe the problem is this perception that I have had ever since I was a child. Sans mother, I ended up piecing together every Disney movie and after school special I ever saw and thought – “THAT is what a mother is supposed to be like.” I achingly longed to have a mother in my life and as time passed and Paige was born, I actually longed to be that Disney version of a mother.
Inevitably I ended up piecing together something wholly unrealistic. My expectations of mother became an amalgamation of Caroline Ingalls, Martha Stewart and a little bit of my sassy 5th Grade teacher, Mrs. Christensen. Suffice to say, being a mother is nothing like that. It’s harder and the days never end in sing a longs of “Old Dan Tucker” with Pa strumming on the fiddle next to the fireplace. At least not at our house.
Admittedly, I really don’t know what I would have missed had my mother lived. I could have just as easily been wrapped up in all kinds of heartache because of her mental illness. Who knows. But the void is there nonetheless and there are times, even as an adult, when I feel like I need a mother to curl up into when I’m feeling defeated. Wednesday was one of those days.
But it’s okay. Instead of working through the sadness, I allowed myself the space to feel blue for the day. I closed my eyes and wished I had something different going on in my life. I lamented about the things were not easy. And I sat there just for a second, indulging in how sorry I felt for myself.
And then I realized I don’t really feel sorry for myself. I feel blessed.
The next morning, I dusted myself off and pressed the rewind button. Though life isn’t easy, I do feel as though my life is full of sweetness and goodness and love. Love from my daughter. Love from my friends. Love from my family. Self love.
Pity party is over and I am back at it again. And as I headed into Seattle on the water taxi this morning, I realized that life is beautiful.
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There’s a certain point when you realize that everything there is left to do as a parent is pretty much small potatoes compared to all the work between zero and 12. Gone are the days when the definition of Mom meant “center of the universe.” Gone are the days when going to bed without snuggling seemed sacrilegious. You realize that window of opportunity for imparting your great nuggets of wisdom has mostly passed and that your job now is relegated to chauffeur and chef. And that’s if you are lucky.
Lately, I’ve been coming to terms with the fact that parenting a teen means: “Be seen, but not heard.” In fact, it’s more like, “Don’t be seen and DEFINITELY don’t say anything – LIKE, EVER.” Your teen no longer wants to listen to what you have to say. She now realizes that you don’t know everything. And in fact, you know that she knows that you don’t know everything. That answer you give about “unicorn dust creating the color of sky” was never a good explanation in the first place and someone who knows everything should, hypothetically, know the quadratic equation and it’s relevance in everyday life. Right?
So the jig is up. Let the panicking commence. During the teen years ask yourself things like, “Did I get it all in? Did I teach her all that I wanted to?” And then you realize that you didn’t get it all in. Despite your better judgment, you start to double down and try and cram even more life lessons in before the age of 18. You trick yourself into thinking your relationship is a plot to a Mitch Albom book. You’re so desperate to get some confirmation – some glimmer of hope – ANYTHING – that indicates that the center of your kid’s world is not a pair of Citizen for Humanity jeans that you start to obsess. smother. cling.
It’s not pretty.
And then once in a while, the Gods answer your prayers. You get a sign that you did okay and that your kid is actually pretty spectacular. In fact, it doesn’t really matter that she leaves empty bottles of shampoo, milk, juice, toothpaste, [fill in blank] everywhere, you’ve raised someone who is thoughtful. And creative. And a genius. FTW!
I had one of those moments recently when I made Paige create a “vision board” as Part 25 of her punishment for getting drunk on New Year’s Eve with her friends. I figured that she needed something personal to keep her eye on the prize and stay out of the worst of troubles (obviously, a potentially ‘off the sha-hizzle’ mother was not motivation enough).
Me: As part of your punishment, I am going to have you make a vision board. Do you know what that is?
Paige: Mom, you are *not* Oprah.
Me: You need to have a tangible reminder of what’s inspires you.
Paige: Can I get off of groundation earlier if I make one?
Me: You will not be off groundation until you make one.
Paige: Fine. But this is ridiculous.
Me: Fine.
Paige: That poster board is waaayy too big. How am I going to fill it all up?
Me: You’ll figure it out. I promise.
Paige: UUGGGHHH!!
After three (THREE!) laborious days, she made this:
It was fascinating to see how carefully Paige chose each quote and picture. She put thought into every detail and I couldn’t have asked for a more diligent creative process. She used this quote that she found (and pasted top center) as her guide:
“What kind of future do I envision for myself? What kind of “self” am I trying to develop? What do I want to accomplish in my life? The thing is to paint this vision of your life in your heart as specifically as possible. That “painting” itself becomes the design of your future. The power of the heart enables us to actually create with our lives a wonderful masterpiece in accordance with that design.”
How sweet is that?
Plus, I especially like how she has Taylor Lautner and Buddha right next to each other. You know, cause in her world they are both heavenly beings.
If you want to see a close up of her vision board, click here.
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WHERE ARE YOU?
This is what I’ve been hearing from everyone in my life right now. WHERE ARE YOU? You act like you’re on an island or something.
Well, why yes I am. I am on an island. Trapped under a box of french crullers. Lord help me.
Actually, I’ve been preoccupied with that house of mine. Not the one on Vashon but the one that I own in West Seattle. You know the one that was supposed to be a good investment (buy high! sell higher!). The one that is slated to pay for Paige’s college. And my trip around the world. The one that practically imploded last summer with the leak to end all leaks. THAT ONE.
Well that house is still getting fixed up. STILL.
Let’s harken back to when I was a young naive home remodeler with nothing but big dreams and 40 episodes of Flip That House & Extreme House Makeover under my belt. My motto being, “If they can do that in 1 month with $15,000 think what I can do with 3 months and $50,000!”
Oh the naivety.
It’s been going so slow. And we’ve run into so many problems. Just think about all of the remodeling stories you’ve heard in your lifetime. Everyone has a remodeling battle story. Like the neighbor who redid their kitchen … their eyes start to go vacant as they recall with great accuracy that in the end it cost them 47.5% more than they had anticipated. They were unwilling to give up the honed marble because it came from the same quarry that Michaelangelo’s David was carved from. MICHAEL-FUCKING-ANGELO. So now they have honed Italian marble countertops sitting proudly on their IKEA cabinets.
That’s how things are going. Except, I don’t have the budget for marble. I am just trying to figure out how I can afford to replace the toilet.
And that is the bitter truth of the home remodel. You open up walls and you find things like there’s no insulation or more leaks. And just when you can’t think of anything worse than vinyl siding, you realize that there is something infinitely worse. ASBESTOS. Or the subfloor is warping and needs to be replaced. So you have to make choices like, what do I shave from this very very very slim budget?
AND if you are really delusional like I am, you start to think that you can do things tile and grout (I saw them do it on Trading Spaces!) or mess with electrical wiring. Brahahahah!! In my case, I am feeling fearless and have decided to remove the asbestos shingles from my house because I couldn’t bear cutting $4,000 from the budget.
*Sigh*
Suffice to say, those hazmat suits make my butt look big(ger).
No french crullers necessary.
