I'm still trying to hash out this blog thing, Try to shape it, mold it. Make it look interesting to read. Mostly, I'm writing this to try to make sense out of life and to become and "expert in myself" as Harriet Lerner puts it. I hadn't plan to blog this morning, although I was trying to decide which days I would publish this blog on. I suspect, that as I learn more about myself, this blog will become clearer and maybe, more interesting. Then, maybe not.
What prompted me to write was the realization, that I have lived most of my life...okay if you need a percentage-- maybe about a 85% of my life in a fog. This came to the fore for me when I took my son to school late this morning (he's 8) and saw that the children were having a book fair parade. Today, they were supposed to dress up as their favorite character from a book. My son wanted to dress up as Micheal Jackson. Permission slips were sent home last week, that parents were supposed to fill out and I forgot to send his back to school. I was also adamantly against his dressing up as Michael Jackson and firmly instructed my son to pick another character.
I often say that parenting is the most difficult job in the world. What makes it most difficult, is that we are mperfect human beings, who try to raise perfect human beings... Now, you can believe this or not. I have three children that I raised alone... Two are grown. I know for this for a fact. Maybe, one day I will give concrete proof but at this time, I don't feel the need to explain myself...
Anyway, I am walking my child to his class w/ 24 chocolate cupcakes in two different containers, that I bought at Walmart last night. One container is decorated with green fingers, and the other with bloodshot eyeballs and bats, plastic ornaments. As, I'm marveling at the children in the parade, and cutting through open door classrooms to try to get to the office to check my child in, I ask my son "Dante why didn't you want to dress up?" He said , "I did, as Micheal Jackson". As he stated this, he gave me a look that said, "Mommy, I really, really wanted that but you said no". It broke my heart. I had been waiting for him to inform me that he would dress up as another character, and had resolved in my mind later, that I would allow him to dress up as Micheal Jackson, but I never voiced this to my child.
I walked Dante to the office and signed him in. As I walked back to my car (I didn't cut through any classes this time). It is cold. I have on my favorite T-shirt with the Beatles Abby Road album cover, and I have no jacket on. My hair is barely combed and half tamed with a blue rubber band that I took off of a Sunday newspaper that I bought two weeks ago. I am feeling utter dismay and sadness and I think back to how much of my older children's lives I missed operating in a fog.
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