It's starting ...
Megan was by far my most difficult child, at least during the school years. It wasn't because she was a bratty kid who never listened and tested me at every turn. No, it's because she was so darn super-hyper sensitive. And that tested me at every turn.
Megan was crushed by the slightest of slights. Whether it was her new baby sister looking at her older sister 30 seconds longer than she looked at Megan, the new dog wanting to run around the yard instead of letting Megan scratch his belly, a teacher exclaiming over another child's artwork when Megan had worked so hard on her own, or a friend having another friend ... and actually talking to that friend in Megan's presence, she continually had a broken heart and collapsed in tears the moment it was safe (meaning no one but immediate family was around to witness the meltdown).
Because of the perceived potential for heart-crushing, Megan entered new situations cautiously. Joining in was not her forte. And when she did join in, it took a lot of thinking about it, a lot of internal preparation, and a lot of coaxing from her mom. Megan has a long list of extracurricular activities and accomplishments that highlighted her school years (and beyond), but man was it ever difficult getting her through those activities with her -- and my -- sanity intact.
Well guess what? Bubby has started to show some of the same tendencies. His heart's not crushed as easily as Megan's, but he takes a while to warm up to new situations, to venture forth, to join in.
"He's, well, timid," Megan told me the other day, after explaining a difficult time at an indoor play park.
Timid is not what Megan thought she'd be getting with a boy. In fact, I think (but I'm sure Megan would never admit it) that she wanted a boy so much more than she wanted a girl as her starter child because she knew the hell heartbreak that accompanies oversensitive girls.
But she has Bubby. Sweet, silly, happy Bubby, who's the fearless king of his castle, but outside the walls of that castle, he's hesitant about new places and faces. He needs time to fully vet them, to make sure all's safe and sound. Just like his mom, he needs a little coaxing.
Oh, and he needs to ensure that Mom is and will continue to be nearby.
I feel for Bubby, and I feel for Megan being so vexed by his being exactly like her timidity. I encourage her to let him take it slow, don't force him into the unknown, don't get angry. He'll come around.
But behind the words of encouragement, my mean-mom self is doing an internal happy dance and shouting, "Yes! YES! It's starting! That legendary curse of children exacting upon their moms the very same horrors the moms once caused for their mothers is finally starting to come true."
Payback is mine, all mine! Having a boy instead of a girl didn't release my distressing darling daughter from the age-old curse. Yes!
There is some consolation for Megan, though. She's fortunate she won't have to deal with the increased insanity that comes with periods and PMS.
At least not with Bubby. But she best beware: She hails from a female-laden lineage, so I have no doubt there's a little girl in her future.
And to that I can only offer these words of encouragement: Be afraid, Megan. Be very afraid!
Today's question:
If you had the opportunity (or nerve) to apologize to your mom for just one thing you did while growing up, what would it be?
My answer: I'd apologize for not going back to pick up the muffler that fell off her old but oh-so-necessary car in the middle of traffic while I was driving it as a teen. I would have been too embarrassed to get it, so instead, I created more stress and financial worry for my already stressed and cash-strapped mama. I'm sorry, Mom!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
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Reader Comments (11)
Aw, sounds like another little introvert in the making. Woohoo! As we know, the world needs more of us. But, uh, world - don't come to us. We'll come to you.
Actually, this was very interesting to me. I guess I assumed all little boys were in-your-face rabble rousers outside their homes. Who knows? Maybe he'll grow up to be a writer like his Graya!
I probably would apologize to my mom for all the times I didn't tell her about things going on at school until the day before/day of. Like, "Hey, mom, the money is due for yearbooks today." Of course, if I HAD told her, there's no guarantee she would've remembered anyway but...
No apology necessary, sweet girl, except from me, that all I had to share with a scared little teenager was such a falling apart bucket of rusty nuts and bolts. But, we both survived.
Poor Megan! Both my kids were uber sensitive, but in different ways. My son would cry when people sang Happy Birthday or the Star Spangled Banner and it would take him at least 30 minutes to adjust to a new situation, if he would adjust at all.
My daughter didn't have those issues, but she had the "she doesn't want to be my friend" and "It's the end of the world" issues.
My son has overcome his sensitivities to be a very cool and well adjusted teen... My daughter on the other hand... Well we cope, hahaha!
I would tell my mom I'm sorry for being ashamed to be seen with her when I was a teen... But her clothes never matched and her socks showed and half the time they were mismatched....
Megan was only so difficult because your first daughter was such an angel. Isn't that how it works?
Those pics of Bubby remind me so much of my son. I put him in pre-school for 2 half days a week when he was 3, just so he would be used to being among other kids before he started school. He's 26 and still cautious but a very happy and well adjusted adult!
Awwwww...great story of daughter and grandson. Paybacks are great, so my dad tells me ;0)
I would apologize for dating an abusive boyfriend and not getting out sooner. It changed the core of me and I know that kills her.
I broke her favorite Christmas ornament -- not on purpose, it was an accident. I was only 7 or 8.
And it's not so much that I want to apologize, but I want to replace it. It's one of those antique glass tear drop thingies. I've been looking for years, but I've yet to find one that looks like it.
When I was in kindergarten, i told my mom she looked nasty when she was wearing makeup...I still feel guilty to this day.
I wish I could apologize for my teen years when I thought I hated her. Of course I didn't, but I'm sure I wasn't nice a lot of the time. She didn't deserve that. (Well, no mom deserves what teens dish out.) Ha!
Mwahahaha what goes around comes around. Just a few days ago, my granddaughter had an accident (she slipped her hand inside the fan but she's okay now. Just minor cuts) and my daughter just started crying. That's how I feel whenever you guys get into stuff, I told her :)
One time when my mom was being a caregiver to my grandmother and I was a young adult, I told her I would go out to see her, and then I got busy and didn't go and didn't call. When she finally called me, she sounded so sad that my heart almost broke. She had been so looking forward to my visit. If I could go back in time and change one thing, I would make that promised visit. My mom is gone now, and I can't make it up to her.