Parenting: Frustration and Pride

Standard

Every parent on the face of our planet has at least once wished their kids have children just like them. Now, raising my own child, I do have to say, sometimes it’s like arguing with myself in the mirror.

My kid is definitely my mini-me, without a doubt. She has the same mannerisms, attitude, and hell, some of the same dislikes. Getting her to clean up one at project before she starts another is like pulling teeth (while I ignore the yarn I pulled out in favour of writing). Arguing with her about why it’s important to rein in her smart mouth, while realizing my mouth is the root of half of my problems in my past is very odd. Watching her read through a chapter book in an hour reminds me of bringing Stephen King’s Misery to fifth grade.

My child is definitely my child. She pushes every button I have, gets under my skin like there’s no tomorrow. However, when I hear about her standing up to her bullies at school, I swell with pride. Watching her befriend younger children makes me smile. Watching her excel in the things she wants to do (art, writing, reading.. soon sports) makes me ever so proud.

Just like every other parent on the face of the planet, I hope I’m going a good job. I hope I’m everything I should be for her. I hope I teach her right from wrong and how to be a strong woman. After stepping on a Lego a few minutes ago, after a long day of bickering about picking up toys and not using attitude.. I threw my hands up in the air and thought to myself “I hope she has a kid just like her.”

Just like every other parent out there.

Advertisements

Work Ethic

Standard

Some days I have a real hard time in the mornings.  For whatever reason, since I was diagnosed with Crohns Disease 6 years ago, mornings are really rough for me.  Even when I’m in remission, I still spend more time in the bathroom than I’d like to. 

Either way, today was one of those rough days.  I was totally feeling like shit (no pun intended) and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed.  Instead, I didn’t want to leave my girls to the wolves (also known as the Monday Craziness) so I got moving.  Sometimes it takes all I have to keep a smile on my face until 5pm.  That’s just how it is with a Chronic Illness. 

Sometimes I get bitter though.  I wish I didn’t have so much pride in my job.  I am very proud of myself for supporting my family and doing what I have to.  It’s hard watching my generation flake out when I’m doing my best to muster through a bad day. 

For instance, my sister quit her job just because she didn’t like it.  That’s her prerogative, how she’s handling it after the fact is another story though.  So when I’m hauling my butt to work, and others just quit because they don’t like what they’re doing, I get bitter.  It’s almost jealousy, but not quite.  I could never sit at home depending on someone else again, my marriage taught me that. Some days its just rough is all.

Which got me thinking.  What happened to my generations work ethic?  I grew up in a working class home, my father worked on cars.  I watched him bust ass to care for us, even though his job pissed him off.  I’m proud to have grown up with such a great father with an awesome work ethic.  It’s what fuels me through my bad days, and what I use for an example.  Hell, my mother worked an office job, similar to the position I started in… and worked it through cancer.  Pretty damned impressive if you ask me.

So while my generation may be lacking in the pride in a hard day’s work, or hell, not even working at all… or even in my sister’s case, looking down on someone who works a working class job (like both her parents and now myself do) while they have no employment of their own. I’ll take pride in the industry I work in (and love) and I only can hope that that I instill the same pride in my daughter.  I hope that by setting a good example, even if some days I’m sick and don’t particularly want to, I’ll teach her to take pride in whatever she chooses to do.  I hope I teach her to have a good work ethic and do something she enjoys as well… whether or not she has a college degree to back it up. 

I guess the moral of the story is take pride in what you do, and do it well.  If you’re lucky like me and get a job doing something you love, take it and run with it and be proud!

How Did This Happen!?

Standard

When exactly did I sign up to be an adult?  Does anyone know?  I’m pretty sure I was coloring in my coloring book one minute and the next I’m paying my mortgage.  Whew! That was a fun ride, I blinked and 15 fucking years flew by.  Today, the stark realization that I’m a grown-up has hit me… at the tender age of 26.  I don’t know why it’s struck so hard, but it has, and it’s mind-boggling.

Sure, I have a 5 year old and have been making said mortgage payments for 4 years, but for some reason, I just now realized it.  I guess Adult-hood is funny like that, it just sneaks up on you, right as you’re trying to color in Hello Kitty’s stupid hair-bow with your new crayons.  I’ve never quite felt like an adult, even when I was in college, or when I had Noodle, or when I closed on my house.  Never quite felt like it, it was almost like I was acting a part.  That this wasn’t my real life, and I was just playing along.

Where I spend too much time...

Where I spend too much time…

I’m on my lunch break right now, I’ve locked myself inside my office with the intention of snooping the internet for an hour.  Oddly enough, sitting at my desk, setting my paperwork aside, that’s when it hit me.  I’m a grown up.  I have my own office at work, my own desk strewn with paperwork and a photo of my daughter in a neat little frame she made.  I will leave here today, pick up my daughter from school and go home and make dinner.  We will eat dinner, I will help her with her homework, clean up and lay down to read.

It’s not like this routine is anything new.  I’ve been doing it for months upon months upon months, but maybe now it’s that I actually enjoy it.  Maybe it’s because now every day isn’t filled with a sense of monotony or longing for a chance to go out.  Maybe now it’s because I’d rather be at home than out and about (most days).  Maybe it’s because I finally got my head on straight and stopped taking for granted the wonderful things and people I already have in my life.  I think that coming to terms with the fact that my life does have some routine in it, let me start scheduling things outside of that routine (vacations, renovations, soccer (for Nood) and such). Quite possibly it has something to do with the fact that I achieved my goals I had set years ago and I finally realized it.  I finally took pride in what I had accomplished and with that pride, I set new goals for the next handful of years.  Life is finally smoothing out enough that I (we) can move on and forward.

Being an adult is a funny thing.  It’s a funny thing I tell yah.

 

But being an adult doesn’t mean that I’m not going to go sit on Facebook for my last 30 minutes of lunch while I sip my iced coffee. :)