Hell No, We Won't Go
My son told me he would come to the shelter with me. But something still bothered me. He'd never objected. I was the one who'd objected to putting him through that.
So my friend, Julie, helped me break down the logic in a conversation we had this weekend about values. Do we live according to the values that we hold? Or do we change our values to suit the occasion? We weren't talking about this situation, but one that still had to do with parenting.
I said, I am a terrible disciplinarian, and I gave the example of finally giving in to my daughter's teenaged aversion to doing the dishes. Julie said,
What's the value you hold by asking her to do the dishes?
Well, I said, that we all share a portion of the work so no one is unfairly overloaded.
Ok, said Julie, and what happened?
What happened was that she put me off by saying, I'll do it in a minute...in an hour...
Okay. What did you do?
Well, I used to get upset and yell at her but that got old fast. This happened so often that I would become a total idiot over it. She simply refused, passively, by putting me off. I got sick of yelling, cajoling, insisting... I even stopped making dinner for her as a consequence, but she didn't notice. Eventually, it became a matter of choosing my own sanity and peace of mind over nagging her to no effect.
Julie thought about it, and said, But did you change your value that work should be shared fairly?
No. I just chose my battles. For my own sanity, I chose not to fight with her because it got me nowhere. Most of the time, I made dinner for both of the kids, and I always asked her to do the dishes. She never turned me down flat. She just put me off, and that was so infuriating that I reconfigured her response to mean, "No" in my own head. I wanted her to have better nutrition than she chose for herself, so I cooked. That seemed more important than anything. Eventually, I simply gave up on her.
But did you change your value?
Nope. Not one iota. Now, she's a mother herself, with a toddler who rearranges everything before she can finish cleaning. Now, she understands the value of sharing the work...
So what is this thing about you being a terrible disciplinarian?
Well, I feel as if I should have forced her to do the dishes.
Why didn't you?
What was I going to do, beat her? From the time she was able to tell me yes or no, she's shown me she has a formidable will of her own. If anyone tries to force her to do something, she will dig in her heels deeper and outlast the best adversary! I tried all sorts of approaches until I wore myself out. Eventually, it came down to choosing my own peace of mind over anguish.
Exactly, said Julie. She knew exactly what she was doing. How she was manipulating you. You were simply choosing, like all mothers do, to pick your battles. You were doing what all mothers must do--be flexible.
I said, tongue in cheek,
Well, I threatened her the way my own mother threatened me: I hope that someday, YOU have a daughter exactly like YOU. Julie laughed. There are some things that are true and have been true since time immemorial. The curse of the mother is one.
So I thought some more about my values. With my children, the first value has always been to protect them from danger. Not necessarily from discomfort, but from suffering for something that was not theirs to suffer.
And I concluded that I would NOT subject my son to the shelter.
Period.
If it cuts me off from their resources, so be it. I will think outside of their box.
I make no judgments on the women who bring their kids to the shelter. Most have no other alternative. Most are probably making the right decision. Most of them, I really admire. And, I might still have to change my mind and give in. But as long as I have the ability to think creatively, I'll follow that first.
Hell, NO! If the only way to get help is to make him sleep on the floor of a different church every night, then I'll just have to beg, borrow or take a job teaching English in Ethiopia.
Copyright 2009 Stephanie Ericsson All Rights Reserved.
Monday, August 3, 2009
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Good for you. It will work out. There is something for you. I don't know the plan, but God does.
ReplyDeleteJulie, Thank you for the vote of confidence. I hope you're right--I'm calling a pure bluff, holding a garbage hand and God's not tipping his hand in the least!
ReplyDeleteSteph
I am living proof that it is possible to lose everything and eventually find that there is still more to live for. As long as you are breathing there is hope.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth,
ReplyDeleteThank you. It is very important to me to hear from women like you. I never forget that however bad it seems, there are people who have it worse. I rarely forget to be grateful for what I have. In some deep, fundamental way, I feel more centered, more free than I've ever felt before. Not to be flip and use an old cliche, but when you've lost everything, when there's nothing left to lose, there's a kind of freedom that moves in to take over and installs itself inside of us. I am not my house, or my things, or my work, or even the roles that I play as a mother, a wife, a writer, a friend, a lover--none of these things will ever fully define me. They may point others toward a direction that helps them know me better. But, they are not me. I am--we all are--MORE than the sum of any of these things, more, even, than the culmination of life's experiences. Yet, when I add up all the columns, I come up with a simple total: I am nothing without you--nothing without relationships--nothing without the people who love me and whom I love.