Is it normal to worry that you're going to totally f-up your kids? Oh, of course it is--to a degree. But I'm pretty certain that parental-failure-fear plagues me more frequently than it does the average mom. Because, via nature or nurture, I'm a worrier--an anxious, ruminating fretter. Which, in my mind, justifies my fear of f*cking up the boys: will they inherit my neuroticism? My fear of (fill in the blank)? (Well at least they can print off this blog and hand it straight over to their therapists.)
But then I read something like Jeanette Walls' The Glass Castle (amazing book) and I think: Jules and Kai are going to be just fine. And I remember, too, that who my boys grow up to be, yes, depends a lot upon me. And Jon. But we aren't going to teach them everything they need to know about the world and how to make the most of it. We can't possibly. And so I hope that they'll learn from a young age, to gravitate toward others, too, worth emulating. Folks like UB (ewe-bee), from whom I've learned many a great lessons. For instance...
But then I read something like Jeanette Walls' The Glass Castle (amazing book) and I think: Jules and Kai are going to be just fine. And I remember, too, that who my boys grow up to be, yes, depends a lot upon me. And Jon. But we aren't going to teach them everything they need to know about the world and how to make the most of it. We can't possibly. And so I hope that they'll learn from a young age, to gravitate toward others, too, worth emulating. Folks like UB (ewe-bee), from whom I've learned many a great lessons. For instance...
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| Day 109: UB dancing off the Dark Ages. |
... you show up for family. Maybe you're wearing an Austin Powers costume. Perhaps you're sporting a tux. Sometimes it's an enchanted evening and other times it's an awkward event, but you get yourself there. And you make memories. And, by god, you take lots of photos. LOTS of them. And videos. So many that people start treating you like the paparazzo that you are and hand-blocking the camera. And then you jet out for a run. Or to visit an old friend. Who is thrilled beyond words to see you.
... when someone comes to visit, you shine the silver, thaw out some nut bread and draft an itinerary that can't possibly be completed in the allotted time. But somehow it is. And along the way, this full-velocity living is slightly uncomfortable for some. It sends others down a path just shy of a coronary. But they're always glad they were dragged along for the ride. Or at least they get over it. Aggravation fades way to fond memories.
... "friend" your friends' friends. There's a reason they like you and they like them. The more the merrier. Colliding worlds are cool.
... to thine own self be true. Life is too short. Live it up. Sip a St-Germain cocktail. The night is young. And there's coffee in the pot.
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