Lately, many a day has gone by and I've missed giving my children their Just 10. The side effect of this neglect has been apparent in their behavior, especially visible in my son. He's been a royal pain in the gluts.
So yesterday, while driving over to a nearby town to drop off a job application, I took him along. Just 10 time was long over due. The child who has been the master of non-compliance was a perfect gentleman. No sulking or misbehaving. When he talked, he sounded much older than his ten-years of age. We were two people having a good time together, talking, listening. I wasn't mom and he wasn't troublesome child. We just were. It was almost magical. So hard to believe than I've spent the last two weeks, trying to mentally escape his whining and temper tantrums by crawling inside my own head and shutting the door.
When my children were much younger and I felt like I was getting dangerously close to becoming an abusive parent, I would load up the double stroller, pop them in their car seats and head off for somewhere really public. I knew that I would be a better parent under the watchful eye of strangers. They, in turn, were usually model children probably for a lot of the same reasons I was pretending to be a model mom. The eyes of the world were watching.
Being in the public view is a bit of a slippery slope. Big A. and I just watched this bizzarre documentary about this internet mogul-genius, crazy guy, who created a weird bunker in NYC with cameras everywhere streaming the goings-on to the internet public. That turned into a total disaster. Then he goes on to stream his life with girlfriend. He even put cameras in the toilet. As you might guess, that relationship didn't last long. I'm still trying to shake a few of the images out of my head. No body needs to share everything with everyone.
I still think some sharing can be healthy or at least helpful. Bloggers often are criticized for their "airing it all." Some of that criticism is deserved. Yet, today during my Just 10 walk, I realized that this blog is helping me be a better person. I have often kept a journal but the writing was very different from what I share here. It was for my eyes only. As such, it often degenerated into a pity-party or diatribe. I was the perpetually confused Don Quixote jousting at windmills. My journals weren't all bad. I did learn a lot about myself but the writing wasn't anything special. When I reread them I was a bit bored. I'm much more emotionally invested in this blog because it is read by others. I'm also much more invested in living up to what I write about here. I've set the bar and I'd better reach for it.
Often, as I go through my day, I'm looking for fodder for my blog. I try to elevate the commonplace, the simple conversation or every day experience to a higher plain. On this plain, I begin to get a better focus. I catch a glimpse of how important the simple things are, like having a good conversation and a pleasant afternoon with my son. I understand how important it is to acknowledge one's love for another with concrete action. From this vantage point, I can see how important it is for me to share this with others so that I am motivated to behave.
Does that mean that I never felt like smacking my children or running away to Canada to begin life as a spinster librarian? No, it does not. I have and I will again. The difference is that when I force myself to acknowledge my fatal flaws, I begin to see that I am not alone and that there is something much bigger at stake. Through the eyes of others, I find parts of myself, some of the best parts. After all, I'm not an island. Neither am I Jerry-Springer-guest material. I've still got some pride and dignity left. I'm determined to behave myself. People are watching. The two most important observers are my children. I've got to be a good example, especially when I feel most like perusing that Canadian librarian fantasy.
I blog on because it helps me behave myself. Dear readers, thank you for helping me be a better person. My quality of life depends upon it. I hope that once in a while, you see a piece of yourself in my ramblings. We are not islands unto ourselves. We are all in this together.
Amen
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