Spoiler alert: I think if you answer yes to any of these questions, you need to get a life.
Do you hide your life from people?
I do. I think what makes this blog good is everything personal. My wish is for you to love me and think I’m a parenting genius, but then I tell you stories about my life that pretty much preclude you thinking the latter, and probably the former as well.
So to avoid that, lately I have not been telling any stories. Like the one where I had to buy all new clothes because nothing fits because I’m gaining weight faster than a pig in a grain bin.
Or where I threw a jar of salsa across the room and it splattered everywhere and my son won’t shut up about it. Which son? The cello son, because I threw it when I was screaming at him that I’m not driving to Chicago if he’s not going to practice. We could be talking about that in my house, but when you throw something, the throwing becomes the whole conversation.
I told them I’m sorry and there is never a reason to throw anything, and no one deserves that. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.
Now every meal my son says, “Can I have some chips and salsa?”
And then both boys fall on the floor laughing.
So I don’t have any stories to tell you because they are all me being a bad parent. Even the story of going mulberry picking today. Green fields, cows following us through the pasture to our favorite mulberry tree.
But I forgot they stain and my son has a performance and now he will perform with purple fingers.
Do you preach to everyone?
I preach. I just wrote a post on my other blog about how I’m too preachy on this blog. I didn’t want to talk about how I’m preachy here about homeschooling because what if I couldn’t stop being preachy? But I won’t tell stories about myself but I still want to be right, then what is left? I have to scream at you.
It’s the blog equivalent of throwing a jar of salsa.
I got into bed tonight and cuddled up to my husband and said, “Why did no one like my last post?”
“I can’t remember,” he said. “What was it about?”
“Oh. That’s not a good sign.”
“There was no story.”
“It was preachy.”
Kiss. Lights out. He falls asleep in ten seconds. I take half a Xanax, read five gardening magazines, take another half a Xanax and fall asleep.
Do you live through your kids?
You probably thought number three was going to be about how you shouldn’t need Xanax to go to sleep, right? I have to tell you that I slept way better when I was working a bazillion hours a week than now when I’m homeschooling. There is so much emotional baggage you can escape by working long hours. That’s what I miss most about work.
But anyway, taking Xanax to sleep is not a sign that you need to get a life. Not sleeping regular hours is a sign that you need to get a life. (Did you know that when you are operating on no sleep it’s like you’re drunk?)
Yesterday’s post was especially disappointing to me because I think it comes from me becoming more and more obsessed with the goals I have for my kids instead of goals for myself. I become unhinged and then I become preachy.
I think the opposite of living through my kids is finding the good in each moment with my kids instead of focusing on long-term outcomes to validate my decisions.
So, it is in that spirit that I share this video with you. It’s my son’s cello recital. He is eight years old, playing Adagio and Allegro from Marcello Sonata in E minor. I don’t know what will come of my son’s cello playing in the long run. But I love hearing him play right now.