My cousin and I were raised in close proximity and had a sister-like relationship. Growing up, she always excelled academically. Now, she just excels. At thirty-six, she is a complete obsessive. The slightest, perceived, less than the best, performance is a FAIL. And I always look at her with a mental eye-rolling. Like, seriously, you’ve got and are everything!
Here’s where the self-inventory comes in: I’m the same way. I mean, I don’t have money or a career and those are very tied to my sense of self-worth. But I got a weekend writing gig this Fall. That was huge for me. But then it was like, “Oh, I’m not good enough; I’m sure no one else applied and that’s why I got it.” And now, I’ll be writing some more and during the week. It’s a step up for me. Believe me, I’ll find a way to re-mold that advancement into something where I come out the loser. I’m cognizant of how exhausting my low-confidence, high-maintenance ways are.
In addition, I’m a rule follower. I always was. As a child, I didn’t push the boundaries of any stated policy. If I was told something was so, it never even occured to me that questioning was an option. I’m not sure if that’s a personality trait but fear is definitely an element of the culture in my family. I’m always afraid bad things will happen if I break rules. Not wearing a hat in winter is near-certain pneumonia and more than two bananas a week is a potassium-induced heart attack in the making.
Needless to say, 2008 has been a totally uncomfortable year for me. So much of what I’ve known, from a decades-long friendship, my relationship with food, and my privacy with writing, has changed. I’m flying without a net and it really sucks. It seems that so many people pursue, and thrive within, the unknown. I’m not one of them. I read the last page first in any book I start. I want to know the outcome of, not just my books, but my very life.
In the early days of being a mom, I decided that I wanted to raise my kids without those invisible strings that have always held me in the safe zone. I want them to question without being reckless. I want them to stretch and reach in a way that I never could; and still cannot. And most of all, I wanted them to have confidence. To believe that their accomplishments are results…not just happenstance. Aspie was sorting laundry at three-years-old. Why not? I didn’t want his perceived abilities to be determined by his time of birth. I wouldn’t toss him a map and some MBTA tokens, but a bottle of Tide? Yes. He learned his colors in the process and learned that women possess no special chromosome that enables only them to run a washing machine. He also learned that wool shrinks. Progression can be painful. And Veruca, at almost four, knows not only the difference between curly and flat parsley, but how to use it to prepare (and tie!) a roasted pork tenderloin with Anjou pears (thanks to my mom…can’t take credit on that one).
I’ve got dreams for these kids. And maybe a couple for me too. But for today: May my children not just grow to fill their space on this planet but may they expand and redefine their space. May my children be sure-footed and exploratory. May my children always be age-inappropriate.
Tags: Aspie, children, parenting, taking risks, Veruca
What an amazing post, Wendie. I like your ideals.
Aspie and Veruca and… who else do you have? Your kids’ names are wonderful and exotic. Is there a story behind it?
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I like this post. A LOT.
My son is 3.5 and can cook like no other and helps do laundry on a daily basis. Because- That’s what ‘we’ do!
Also, I refuse to raise him like my mother in law raised my husband. I can just smack my husband and his mom for being so lazy.
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i really admire your honesty in this post, wendie.
and, as always, grace is adorable.
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I’m hoping B doesn’t see this post for two reasons:
1. Once he sees how friggin cute Veruca looks in those pictures, I’ll be knocked up in no time.
2. Once he sees Dharma’s roast… oh boy.
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I see Veruca had another moment caught on camera that appears she’s singing gospel in the choir…Praise the Lord Veruca!! Praise the Lord!
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In response to M’s post…yes and yes. Good luck M.
Thank you for the heads up Wendie. By the way can we borrow Veruca for like a weekend?
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This post touched me in numerous ways.
First, your child-rearing ideals struck a chord in me (as in, I thought I might be the only mother that felt this way).
Secondly, I applied for the Evil Beet position when you did and was quite envious of you. You are amazing, and it makes me sad that you don’t quite realize how talented you are.
Keep on doing what you’re doing … and smile : )
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I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, WENDIE!!!
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[...] my friends, is that cultural fear thing that I was raised with. I put cones up in our driveway any time that the kids are going to be [...]
Wendie, you are just plain awesome. I hope you realize that with all these comments of love. It is so inspiring to see you break away from safety and try things differently for a change; its really hard and scary, but I praise you for it.
Also, I thought I was the only one who read the last page first. It’s just how I roll, so I’m glad you do too, because now we can officially start a club
hahah
- K
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