Have I Raised a Quitter?

I was so excited to be a football mom. I didn't realize how much I wanted it until D quit. I was devastated. I cried. I wept. I mourned. 

I wanted to see him play. I wanted to see him work and improve at the game. I wanted him to improve his grades because he wanted to play on the team. I wanted him to believe in himself and see success. I wanted to see him motivated. I wanted him to see the support of his friends and family. I wanted to be proud of his achievements. I wanted something to brag about. I wanted him to want something I could understand. I wanted him to be a different kid. 

That's a hard thing to admit. I don't want a kid that is into video games and YouTube videos. I want a kid that reads Lord of the Rings and watches Sci-fi movies, one who makes up stories and writes and draws. I want a kid that I can understand. 

Have I raised a quitter?

Another big issue for me with this whole quitting thing was that I did not want him to be a quitter. I took the whole thing very personally.

Having older children changes your whole mindset. When you have a toddler who pushes another kid down on the playground you don’t immediately think “My kid is going to be a criminal when he grows up!” At that point you still have time, and you can look at your toddler and know he simply has a lot of growing up to do. But once your kid is almost as tall as you it’s harder not to catastrophize. You can hear the time bomb ticking. Your time as a parent is running out.

I was watching the ABC show Black-ish on demand the other day. Their younger son, Jack, was playing on a new basketball team and he wasn’t very good. The mom, Bow, and dad, Dre, were talking about how awful he was. Bow wanted her son to quit. Dre was appalled by the idea and argued that he didn’t raise a quitter. Dre’s mom, Ruby, interrupted and said “Well I did, and you’re doing it wrong.” When Dre argues with his mom she states her case in a flashback where Dre stomps into his living room and yells “I quit!” while throwing down a football helmet (** sniff sniff **) and then a tuba and a baseball glove and a bunch of other stuff.

Ruby’s point was this- if she hadn’t let him quit all those things he sucked at, he never would have found something he was good at. This episode was just what I needed to hear at just the time I needed to hear it.

I was so hurt when D quit football. I finally realized that I wanted it more than he did. I told him that one day he would find something he loves, and something he wants to work hard at, and something he doesn’t want to quit. Football was not that something.

I never thought of myself as one of those parents that lives vicariously through their kids. But that’s exactly how I was acting. Just like Dre from Black-ish I wanted my son to stick with it and not quit, even though I quit everything I tried as a kid. I took violin lessons, piano lessons, and guitar lessons. I can’t play any of them. I never wanted to practice. I didn’t want it bad enough to practice. I guess now I wish someone had made me practice and to not quit, because unlike Dre I’m 33 and I still haven’t found the thing I love.

Maybe I should try (and quit) more things.

Loneliness is Just the Start

"You seem embarrassed by loneliness, 

by being alone. 

It's only a place to start."

I was home alone watching the 1995 version of Sabrina when one of the characters quietly spoke this line. I stopped the movie, rewound it, and wrote down the quote word for word. 

I mentioned in my post Making Mommy Friends that I was a member of several friend finding websites. I described it as embarrassing and shameful and sad. I still feel that way sometimes. And sometimes I am proud of myself for admitting I'm unhappy with something in my life and working to make it better.

I just read Frientimacy by Shasta Nelson. She's the lady that started the GFC website. I really loved the book. I was excited to write this post when I'd only finished 25% of it. I recommend the book for anyone wondering why they still feel so alone even though they know a bunch of people, or have a bunch of friends.

Shasta says in her book,

". . . the sensation of loneliness is simply information that you are ready to feel more connected to others."

In other words, "It's only a place to start."

I've been lonely off and on my whole life. It really seems like the feeling has grown in the last few years. And the last few years of my life have been the best years of my life. I truly agree that the sensation of loneliness that's been escalating for me the past few years is an indicator light letting me know I'm ready to feel more connected to others. I've grown enough to let more people into my heart. I'm at least satisfied with myself as a person that I can say I'd like to be a good friend.

Shasta reminds me of those counselors I mentioned when talking about Yes, Your Teen is Crazy. She points out things we can do to ruin a baby friendship. Things I've done. Things I've experienced other people doing. Things that completely turned me off to that person and I thought I was crazy or being too picky. She is like that counselor that lets me know, "Hey! That's normal." It's neat to know where problems can crop up and why. Now that I know why I respond to some things one way and I can choose to respond a different way.

I felt empowered while reading this book, and then slightly let down when I finished. Despite the chapter called "Obstacle to Intimacy #1: Doubting Our Self-Worth Or: The Fear We're Not Good Enough" I walked away from this book feeling . . . well, feeling I wasn't good enough. Making friends, and keeping friends, and deepening friendships is HARD WORK. I don't know if I'm up to it. 

I love learning and growing. A big part of that process is discovering areas I'm lacking. I know that and it's getting easier the more I learn. But it's still a cold bucket of water to the face. 

I've started reading "Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most" by Douglas Stone. I've realized that pretty much every conversation is difficult for me, every conversation of substance. I can't increase my level of "frientimacy" without some honest intimate conversations.

I press on toward the goal . . .

Creative Parenting

Some of my greatest Mommy accomplishments have come when I used creative solutions to difficult problems.

One specific incident that comes to mind. It was a beautiful Colorado summer day. We owned a townhouse and the complex was full of families with young children. Our parking lot was not a through-way formed a circle. It was the perfect track for young bicycle riders and the like. 

My oldest was outside riding with about 15 other kids. The fun soon turned to tears when he got into a fight with an older neighbor boy. He wanted to ride the kid's bicycle but it was obviously too big for him to handle, and it didn't have training wheels. He threw a fit. He was so upset. I was worried about his safety on such a big bike that he obviously couldn't control. I got an idea! What if I took the training wheels off his bike? I did just that. I showed him what I was doing and he seemed to like the idea. He was anxious for me to finish so he could try it out. 

When the training wheels were off, I took him to the smaller parking lot in the back away from where the other kids were. It wasn't exactly how it happens on television. He pretty much told me "Leave me alone, I've got this." and took off. We practiced getting started on his own a couple of times and he was good to go. He rode around the building and when the other kids saw him they cheered and congratulated him. He was three years old and riding a bicycle with no training wheels.

It was a magical day. Another little girl (still older than he was) learned to ride with no training wheels that day too. Who would have thought to take the training wheels off a three year old's bike to stop a melt down? I wish moments like that came more often. Where is my brilliant idea on how to get him to take all the dirty dishes out of his room, do his homework, or choose to play outside instead of video games? It's like I'm always guessing at what he wants, and on rare days like that day with the bicycle I actually get it right. Now that he's a teenager, I'm pretty much always wrong. But I still have my "three year old son riding a bicycle without training wheels" moment.

Time flies

I can’t believe my oldest is already 162 months old. Time really does fly. Doesn’t it?

He will be starting high school in the fall. High school!

We went to freshman orientation night a while back and the mom in charge of the PTCO gave a welcome speech. Her advice? Enjoy every minute, because it will be over before you know it.

At the time I resented her speech and her tears. That night was hard enough without her emotional outburst. The school is so big! He looks so small! There are so many more kids! There are so many choices! The “kids” look like adults! I’m excited, nervous, and outright scared for him.

Nevertheless I’ve thought about how time flies a lot recently. Do you ever have a reoccurring theme keep popping up in your life? If you haven’t, you probably aren’t paying enough attention. I think the universe tends to hit us over the head with important concepts we need to learn until we actually learn them.

I was having a conversation with a friend last week about our mothers. She disclosed to me that her mother would tell her and her siblings how much they ruined her life. I could definitely relate. My mother never came out and said those words, but I always felt that I was holding her back. I felt like a burden. My friend said it best, “Some of these mothers... what was going on with them? It didn't all turn out like they had planned, but once it's happened, wouldn't it make more sense to, I don't know? Make the best of it? Try to have some fun.”  

I know I’ve been guilty of not enjoying motherhood as much as I could. In the beginning I mourned the life I didn’t have. In the middle I struggled to provide things like food and shelter and I rarely took the time to enjoy where I was. Lately, I’ve been worried about the future instead of enjoying the present.

That crying PTCO lady was right. It all goes by so fast. So, why not make the best of it? Try to have some fun. 

Yesterday

How Much Am I Willing to Pay for Friendship

I'm trying to make new friends. I've mentioned this before in my post Making Mommy Friends. I've met a nice group of women from one of those sites actually. It has been nice to have the girl-time. Especially since I live with so many males.

The Girlfriendcircles site, or the GFC, has a friendship blog that gets delivered to my inbox. I've enjoyed a couple of them. That's enough to keep me as a subscriber . . . for now.

This post How Much Do You Really Want Good Friends is one that caught my attention. I didn't even read the whole thing and it got me thinking. This making friendships thing is hard. Getting to know new people is a lot of work. Active listening and showing interest in things that have never interested me before requires a lot of concentration. 

How much am I willing to pay for friendship?

It costs my time. It costs my energy. It costs my comfort. 

How much do I really want this?

There have been times where I thought, "This is just too much. I don't want to do all this. This should be easier." 

Shasta's blog referenced another blog by Mark Manson called The Most Important Question of Your Life. Again I just skimmed this article (who has time to read a WHOLE blog post? Although as the author of this one I can only hope you read every word of mine.) The main idea is the question is "What pain do you want to sustain?" This extends past the idea of what we're willing to sacrifce for friendship but also for life.

It reminds me of some religious Christian book I read years ago about how as humans we must be a slave to something. You are either a slave to your toothbrush or a slave to cavities. You're a slave to sin or a slave to righteousness. Manson uses the example of wanting to be a rock star but not wanting to do the work. He sums it up by saying:

But the truth is far less interesting than that: I thought I wanted something, but it turns out I didn’t. End of story.I wanted the reward and not the struggle. I wanted the result and not the process. I was in love not with the fight but only the victory. And life doesn’t work that way. 

This completely makes sense to me. In the past I've been pretty hard on myself for quitting or failing to do something. I wanted it so bad, but I didn't follow it through to the end. I didn't complete it. It turns out it was only something I thought I wanted, but I didn't. End of story. On to the next thing. 

His last quote also reminds me of my grandmother, Anne Braden. She spent her whole life fighting for human rights. I believe she wanted the result- equality for everyone, but she probably realized it wouldn't happen in her lifetime. She wouldn't live to see it but that didn't stop her. She loved the fight. She lived for the struggle.

How much and for how long am I willing to suffer for what I want? It is a question that really makes me think. It makes me whittle down my wants and sift my priorities. 

I want my life to be filled with happy, healthy, fulfilling relationships. I think that's more important than what I do for a living or how much I make. I'm willing to pay in time, tears, and training.  

MoneySchool Lesson 7

Who knows how I find these things. It's one of the great mysteries of the internet. Somehow I stumbled upon the Money Under 30 website. I signed up for their newsletter and received free "MoneySchool" lessons in my inbox. I know enough about affiliate marketing to know they are making money off of their free advice whenever I click on something, but I've picked up a few tidbits here and there.

I found and fell in love with mint. It's an app that lets you keep all your money stuff in one place. It's great for tracking your spending and budgeting and just really being aware of your finances. I love money. I love being frugal. I love spending. I think I'm already pretty savvy about money, but I also love to learn new things, and would never want to think I know it all.

Lesson 7 is about habits that millionaires have that the rest of us don't. Who knows where they get this stuff. The author, David Weliver, doesn't exactly site his sources. But it inspired me at any rate, and I just wanted to share what I learned.

1. Millionaires read at least one nonfiction book a month. 

Oh my god! That's me! Where's my million!?

I love learning new things. I was so disappointed when I stopped going to school to focus on raising my children. I know it was the right decision. I also know I am happiest when I am learning new things. Lately I've been learning about raising children. I like the way Weliver describes it as "investing in yourself." I've heard how a college education is an investment in your future, and just always accepted it as fact without really thinking about what that actually means. I think your brain is your biggest commodity. I want to be a lifelong learner, and if that's a mark of a wealthy person- well, that just the icing on the cake.

2. Millionaires talk about ideas, not problems. 

This is a new one for me. It's like I was searching in the dark with a flashlight and someone just pointed a huge spotlight at the answer. I've been slightly obsessed with the idea of negotiating lately. I love the idea of no-lose solutions. I've always had a winner/loser mentality. Someone wins. Someone loses. I love to win. Sometimes I feel like I'm always losing. Sometimes I feel like a victim. Sometimes I win and it makes me feel crappy because someone lost for me to win. "Millionaires talk about ideas, not problems" was the missing piece of the puzzle for me. Sometimes I ruminate on a problem. I stew on how awful it is and how miserable I am. I usually arrive at the problem solving stage where I start thinking of solutions, but sometimes it takes me a long time to get there. I would like to remember in the future to skip all the wallowing. I want to acknowledge the thing I don't want and then immediately skip to thinking about what I do want. I learned some of that in the book Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting. 

"Life was meant to be, 

"Don't like that, 

do like that."   

I have to acknowledge the thing I don't like. Don't likes are a part of life. They will happen. But what do I like? What would be the perfect solution or end scene of this problem? I'd like to spend more of my time thinking on that part.

I think that was another reason I didn't like the book Boys Adrift. It offered a reason for all the problems, but had very little focus on solutions.

3. Millionaires live outside the comfort zone.

Eh. That's a hard one for me. I'm comfortable in my comfort zone.

When I quit school it was to take care of my children. I felt like they were running amok and floating adrift. I decided the thing I needed to focus on in my life was my children and our relationship. This was surprisingly uncomfortable for me. I'm not good at relationships. It doesn't matter that they are my children. Talking about feelings is hard. Fighting and arguing and working things out is hard. Showing an interest in a subject you don't care about is hard. Dealing with other people's emotions is really really hard. I'm doing it. Some days are harder than others. Some days I'm too emotional to be rational. 

My oldest and I went paintballing for the first time last week. It was scary. It was uncomfortable. It was amazing. As we were leaving the field in the middle of nowhere, I was so psyched! It was exhilarating! We conquered our fear and it was amazing! What should we do next? Bungee jumping? Skydiving? Getting out of my comfort zone rewarded me with the best high, and great memories of my son and I having fun together laughing and talking. That's worth more than a million dollars.