I was all set to write a self deprecating ball-busting rant about collapsing to the neighborhood pressures of fitting in and making LB happy by climbing up on a ladder and attaching blazing bright holiday lights to the edges of our house and surrounding shrubbery for the first time. But I can't write about that this morning and try and be all hilarious. Because I feel bad.
I am sitting out in our living room, it's the third day in a row that LB has woken up in the darkest hours of morning determined to wake the rest of the house. I can hear him right now, lying in his room, smacking his skinny legs against his bed in that hut-two-three-four rhythm over and over again like some Nazi death march, the noise booming down the hall and bursting into this room killing any and all chances of any more sleep I might manage this morning. So I just open up and write and listen to this wide awake little boy entertain himself in the dark with his "quiet toys." He is wired to be awake. It isn't his fault. He isn't being bad or defiant, he is doing what his body was made to do. Lately, in battling these early risings, trying to keep him quiet enough for Cole and the baby to stay asleep, I have been feeling like a total failure as a parent. Every morning I am an ineffectual bystander to the will of this 5 yr old boy and can do nothing but distract and deflect the noise for Cole. Cole has the work schedule and the responsibility of her physical presence to be her best for the people she works on during the day. She requires more sleep than I do. I am the one with the flexible schedule, so I have become the one who gets out of bed and tries to deflect the noise and the bad decisions that LB makes in the early hours of the morning. I am typing all of this out with such reluctance because I am not looking for anyone to say the contrary, I don't want to hear that I am not doing a bad job. Or that I am a good parent. I am not looking for a pump up to tell me anything different. That is most certainly why I am closing the comment section down today. I am telling you that this is part of the territory with SMS. I am telling you that this is part of the deal. It is how I feel. Every day. Like a lousy parent. Cole and I become a kind of prisoner to the whole thing.
So as I am sitting here thinking about all of the ways that I failed yesterday at doing enough to stimulate and get LB to exert enough energy and mental muscle to be exhausted enough to maybe sleep till 5:30AM, I am also feeling a little burdened and bothered about yesterdays post-- and all of this thinking just started to make me feel bad. I forget sometimes when I write that not everybody that reads here has been reading from the start, and has knowledge of how things have been going, or what the deal with SMS is. So I read that post again about the shedding of the toys, and I am reading my words and I just don't like the tone. Let me be clear. Cole and I are not the people that roll our eyes and think other parents are absurd for not doing things the way we do them. I promise you, nobody living in this house is breaking out the party hats and self congratulating about being terrific parents. We are doing the very best we can and I am writing about the ups and downs along the way, but nobody here has anything figured out. I am writing this, because if I had just stumbled along this blog, and had no idea who LB was, or SMS, or any of the backstory, I would have read that last post and thought: "geez, this guy really thinks he is something else." And I would have left one of those super annoying anonymous "you need to get over yourself" comments that are so popular.
So on the other side of that thought, It was really sincerely awesome to get comments and stories and examples of other people doing the same thing with the downsizing and shedding of toys. I was surprised by them actually. The stories and reasons why those parents have made these decisions are commendable and brave, and I am sure all of them have their own personal reasons for going down that road. I started to realize when people were mentioning books, and philosophies, and schools of thought that I had never heard about that there was some movement I was not aware of, a clear line to give kids a simpler life that would bring out potential and brightness. But Cole and I didn't sit around out of the goodness of our hearts and think thoughtfully and carefully about this path we are on, it wasn't a backlash to the dilemmas of the modern commercialized world. We didn't read about it and think: "this is it! We have to do this for our children. We have to save them from all the madness." We are doing it out of necessity. We are watching LB react to the world around him and trying to build a better place that he will be comfortable in. So I started to feel disingenuous about the post; had I explained the reasons behind our decisions in a clear way? I started reading about these other families that had made conscious clear calculated decisions, that had researched a philosophy and made it a priority to give their children specific experiences, and I felt like I wanted to put on the brakes and say "WHOA! Wait. NO." We didn't do that. We are just a couple of assholes really struggling to get all this shit right-- so that this little boy with this complicated problem has the best shot at an independent life. I never use this blog to try and make other people feel lousy about their own parenting styles and choices. I know for certain that there is no universal right way to do any of this. I don't hate people who spank, or think hospital births are lame, or think you're evil for dressing your baby girl in pink, or think you're a ding dong for buying a mechanical plastic dinosaur that ROARS when you press a button. The things we do work for us, and make us alive and thrive, but they are not things that work for everybody else.
I was born in a hospital, wore blue and given footballs as a baby, was spanked and lectured, was a latch key kid, I was allowed to swear like a sailor at the dinner table, ran wild, rebelled every chance I had, I was a handful, I was a horrible pain in the ass to my mom and dad-- So whatever it is that they did or parented-- I like the way I turned out. My parents did the best they could, they made up their own rules and tried their best. That is the whole deal. As a kid. I knew that they were trying their best. That makes all the difference. That is the difference. I knew they were trying hard for us. They gave us the best life that they knew how to give.
I am writing all of this all bleary eyed and exhausted from LB's sleep terrorism, because I never want this blog to be a place that feels like a brag. The exception being that I will brag about the love I have for my wife and the children because I am endlessly proud of them. They are the best. The best! But as far as the rest of the thoughts that land here, they are our stories that I am sharing, knowing that not everyone that finds their way here will agree with most of the things I say and do. It is cool to find common ground and validation for troubling issues, support from parents of special needs kids, parents of newborns, lovers of photography, young married couples, a real community. It has amazing moments, but I also read around the blog world and see so many examples of ugliness and mean spirited rivalry, and it has been so bad at times that I think, I should just hit the delete button on this entire project, I don't want to be a part of this. The good outweighs the bad, and I keep writing. However, I did not want to keep writing without saying something about all of this. I rarely if ever address or talk about a blogging community. I feel like the smart path is just shut my mouth, write what I want, I will never ever please everyone so never try or kid myself into thinking it is possible. So I will. That is what will happen. I just had to make sure that people knew that I am aware of all of this, and can say that these feet are firmly planted on the ground, walking around just like everybody else trying to build the good life. I am rooting for all of us. All on separate paths trying to get to the same place.
All the Love in the Universe ~ Me
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