Baggage

So it was kind of a rough morning–Leif was sick but thankfully, Rowan’s temperature was back to normal so back to school she went.   However, she had been really clingy which unfortunately tends to annoy me if overdone.  Whenever I would leave the room she would whine and look for me.  I had such a peaceful morning when I got up at 5, and then introducing my family to the morning an hour and a half later just got on my nerves.

(Aside: I thought I would have more problems adjusting to the time change, but Kinoko, in her infinite catness of being, has been trying to get me up earlier and earlier over the past few weeks.  I couldn’t figure out why she was attempting to be fed at 4 am–until the clocks changed and there she was, right at 5:00 am again.  Snot.)

I ended up taking Rowan to school.  I don’t really like taking her to school, because she clings to me and doesn’t seem to interact with the other kids.  Then again, I’m there, the observer who’s changing the environment by observing it.  I realized that I don’t like taking her to school because it is hard for me to remove her school experience from my school experience.

It’s hard to know what you really want for your kid.  I could say I want her to be happy, and I do of course.  But if she had an IQ of 70 and was happy all day long–well, to be truthful, I wouldn’t be.  I would like her to be fairly intelligent, I would like her to understand that her life is all her own–heaven or hell, it will mostly of her own making.  I don’t want her to suffer the way I did, having this sharp hurt of wondering what was so wrong with me that no one wanted to be friends, no one cared.

Yet I like myself now.  Oh sure, I’ve still got growing to do, make no mistake.  But my past led me to today.  So though I suffered through school, I finally, clumsily, learned how to make friends and how to be a friend.

If my daughter never suffers at all, wouldn’t she be vapid and insipid?  But too much suffering can break a person.  I am not a believer in the saying, “God never gives you more than you can handle.”  Sorry, there are too many suicides for me to believe that–too many instances where people opt out, because they can’t handle it anymore.  Certainly that was one of my dearest fantasies for many years, to end it.   And if my parents had known what I felt–but they didn’t.  A decade passed before they had a clue, too late for the 11 year old that used to fantasize about hanging herself outside the 6th grade classroom.

Obviously, I got over it eventually.  And I don’t really think Rowan will get as bad as that.  But where is the truth in that situation?  If you have your daughter that says, “I have no friends, no one plays with me,” but other adults will say, “Oh yeah, my kids said that all the time,” when and where do you intervene?  In my case, Leif picks her up and says every day, she comes out of school with a big smile.  He says that she’s probably not a morning person, grumpy as he is.  And that’s probably a fair assessment.  But I don’t ever want to stop listening, just in case.

Author: ~R

I write about life, people, and the things that interest in me. Which often includes death, sex, friendship, and the future of humanity. I hope for the best in people and I prepare for the worst. But no matter what happens, change is constant and everything will be ok.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s