Keeping it Real

I am a self professed internet addict. As a previously self professed trivia/information addict, the two go hand in hand. Love that I can read about things I never would have seen before, and link from one thing to the next and wind up reading interesting life stories, stories from different continents, and yes, the occasional hilariously inappropriate and politically incorrect Utube video. I also read a lot of blogs. A wee little peek into someone else's life. I have link to a lot from other blogs, and often do not even know the person I am reading, or their situation. One thing that is driving me nuts lately seems to be this theme of being totally and artifically in *love* (and yes it has to have the little astericks around it) with everything and everyone. I *love* my life, I *love* my perfect never do anything wrong kids, I *love* my car, I *love* my perfect husband, I *love* my job, you get the idea. I sit and wait for the person to maybe say she also produces $100 bills from her rear end on a daily basis. While I have admitted many times in this very place, that I am happy and content with my life, warts and all, I like to think I try not to make it all sound perfect and unreal. One thing I promised myself when I started blogging was to "keep it real". I want to look back, and maybe the kids look back some day, and really be able to see what was honestly going on in our lives at the moment. I often have to shake myself when I am reading those blogs, cause I start to think, what the hell am I doing wrong??

Why has these ladies *perfect* lives been bugging me this week, I am not sure. Could it be becasue mine has been particularly challenging this week? No one ever told me parently was going to be this hard. Tuesday we headed off to biofeedback like we have twice a week for the last nearly 6 weeks now, but this week, halfway there, K. starts getting hysterical and telling that she is quitting, and not going back and I can't make her, crying and sobbing. Woah!! Back up a minute. What? Try as I could I could not get her to share with me why, other than that she hated it, which I know is not true, she has been having fun with it so far. 90 min later withhelp from the therapist, we determine that she was getting picked on that day about having ADD, and being stupid and getting bad grades. Not new, but upsetting to be anyway.....every rationalization I had didnt' work.......so we come to also discover that she has been told frequently by her friends int he past week that she has been "too calm" - now I got angry, cause said "Friends" were also some of the firstt to point out to her and complain when she was too hyper. So she started to freak out that this was changing her and she didnt' want to change, etc. She also shared that she tried to tell her friends what the therapy was and did, and they didn't understand. So their reaction? "That's stupid" - so of course wanting her friend's approval, K. immediately adopted the same thought. I am a "fixer" , and trying very hard at this point not to get hysterical on her. That is when the therapist pointed out to me, that she needed me to listen at that moment, rather than "fix" it, and I was rationalizing with an irrational person. And then went on to say, that he could see some of the things that K. was saying were painful for me and maybe I would benefit of talking to a therapist myself. He was actually the first person in a long to time to simply ask how "I" was doing. Honestly wanted to know. Not just make conversation. I am not too vain to admit, I carry rather large luggage with me, and would benefit from talking to someone I am sure, especially if it will help me know who to work with my kids better. It was a rather emotional night, for both of us, and for me lasted into the next day. As a parent, and being able to offer my kids more than my parents had to offer me, you think they won't have to deal with some of the same things you did. But you come to realize, you can't protect them from the viciousness that can be in thier peers. A nicer house, and better clothes than I had as a kid can't protect them from that. I hurt so bad for her that night. And could I chose not to journal this part of our day adn life, and 20 years from now figure we may both forget. But I don't want to do that, the reality being that neither of us will forget and she will most likely carry the pain with her as I do, even though I thought I hadn't. So she can look back and read how I felt about it, and I loved her enough to hurt for her, and she can realize too that it will most likely happen to her children as well, and hopefully I can be an example to her of what to do or not to do and say.

The good news is when things settled down, that getting an A in math the other day felt much better than being frustrated and angry at the C or D she got even after studying, and understands that the therapy is helping. We talked about not sharing with anyone where she is going and what she is doing. she is so kind and sweet, she didn't realize that someone could turn this positive thing into negative,and now I think she has learned to be a bit more cautious who she shares things with. So all is again well on the western front......

That is real life. Not some glossed over version of a pseudofairytale that I want to delude myself into believing.