In Their Heads

Would you like to know how my kids are doing? Most people would.  It's usually the question that follows 'How are you?'  The truth is that I would like to know how they're doing, too.  I wish I could spend a day or two in each one of their heads and really see what they're thinking....how they feel.  Sure, we talk and spend lots of time together, but I want to see all of this from their perspective.  They seem alright, but are they? Really?  When my youngest seems more angry than I've ever seen him over something that does not seem to warrant that kind of anger, is he thinking about why he's so angry? Can he even connect those dots between the out of control feelings he's having and the loss of his Daddy?  When one of the twins comes unglued because our schedule has changed and no one told him, does he think about how everything in his life changed just a few months ago and he has no control over that either?  When I attended all of those end of the school year award ceremonies, recitals and concerts, did my daughter think about last year's events when her Daddy was around to cheer her on?  When they have to endure the parenting moments I am not proud of, when I am not parenting with 'Love and Logic' but with fear and desperation, do they long for the balance their daddy brought to our parenting....do they wish I was more like him....or that I was him?  I don't know.  I do know this: we all love each other and there are still happy times.  Not exactly those 'all is right with the world' kinds of times, but pretty good.  One of my children (whose name will be withheld to protect the not so innocent) has told me some lies lately.  Mostly lies to get out of doing stuff he doesn't want to do (like shower or brush his teeth....boys), but lies are lies and I have a zero tolerance policy for lying.  I explained to him that when he lies I don't trust him and if I don't trust him, I need to keep my eye on him all the time, so he spent his entire day shadowing me.  Not in his plans to follow me around - cleaning bathrooms, folding laundry, loading the dishwasher, organizing my closet (I was way more productive than usual with my little shadow).  This was an interesting day for both of us - I thought it might be punishment for me, but in between the short lived pity parties he would throw for himself, I think we both sort of enjoyed being together all day.  Now don't get me wrong, he was very clear that he had other plans which were being ruined, but when he intermittently forgot about those big plans, he did things like offer to help me with whatever I was doing or chatted about things he would think of - we even found some old pictures in my closet of a vacation we took to Florida and sat in the floor of my closet looking at each one...by the end of them, we had the other 2 brothers in my closet, too.  Before you start thinking 'He's enjoying this 'discipline' a little too much', let me tell you that the clincher was when his aunt called to take the kids out for ice cream and (gasp) I said I needed him to stay with me because that was the consequence of his choice to lie to me...my mantra was 'lying leads to lack of trust which leads to lack of freedom'.  This was, of course, devastating and 'unfair' in his eyes.  Watching the others leave to have ice cream resulted in a flood of tears, anger, another long talk about lying, remorse and finally an unsolicited and sincere apology for lying accompanied by a better attitude (for the most part).  He was still anxious for his freedom and was surprised when the others returned that his sentence was not over - I had told him it was for the full day and I was sticking to it.  At bedtime, I needed to sever my new appendage, so I asked where he wanted to sleep (meaning on the couch with his brothers to watch a movie or in his own bed).  He hesitated answering and just shrugged his shoulders.  Although he never sleeps in my room, something made me ask if he wanted to sleep there (very unlikely I thought since I was offering him his first taste of freedom in 12 hours).  A huge smile spread across his face and he nodded enthusiastically.  So here he is, right by my side, reading his own book while I write about him.  I guess at the end of the day the most important thing I have to remember is that we all love each other and we miss Dan but we are still a family.  No matter how hard things get, we want to be together - that makes me feel pretty content.  

Roller Coaster

If you are reading this (and, clearly, you are) you have been invited to read my 'super secret' blog.  Don't you love oxymorons?  There may be more 'super secret' blogs that I don't know about because...well...they're 'super secret'.  However, my experience is that people write blogs because they have something they want to say and they want someone to know they're saying it.  In a previous post I said that I was blogging to allow people 'in' - difficult to do if I am too afraid to tell anyone this blog exists.  Imagine me holding my hand open, arm extended in front of me signaling you to STOP while at the same time my other hand is slightly behind the first hand, signaling you to proceed, to 'come on in'.  There are moments when I REALLY want to open up and let people in - to call someone and cry or rant about how much I miss Dan...how unfair it seems...how inadequate I feel...how exhausted I am...how lonely I am...how overwhelmed I am...BUT, in the next moment I wish I could go far away...by myself...with no one looking at me or asking me how I'm doing...never to speak of the unspeakable difficult topics again.  At times I feel like I will surely survive this...other times I think that someone with my name will survive this, but it won't be me anymore.  There are moments of hope when I am ready to fight, ready to rise above the pain...and lots of other moments when I'd be content to curl up in a ball and sleep for the duration.  I see a picture of Dan and it seems either that he has never left, that he will walk in any minute and I will be able to talk to him and see those eyes and hear his voice...or that he was never here...just a really great dream I had.  This roller coaster is exhausting.  I will be so glad you read this...then I will wish you hadn't...