Featured Post

Time

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Experiment Awry

Back in the mid90's at my wits end with my kids teacher, I decided to try a small experiment in behavior modification.  I was pretty desperate for a solution.  When you are 25, busy, working, going to school and taking care of two kids and a house there isn't all the much time to be called into the grade 1 class and forced to sit in a mini chair listening to a high strung teacher grumble.  But for three months I was forced to do that daily.

No amount of communication could get Madame to see she was part of the problem. No suggestions from me ever made it past her sardonic smile. I had a bored child on my hands.  My Darling girl whos mind outthought most adults and who had set out to make school fun.  A teacher who had a love affair with conformity. Who found my little beans brilliance serial killer level disturbing.  Somehow, out of that situation I found myself getting served with Grade 1 Detention ad infinitum.

Unable to convince Madame to try anything new I turned to the one person I could influence.  I explained to my baby that her hijinks were rather unwelcome.  "But its soooooo borrrrrrring Mummy".  I know Baby. You only have about 20 more years of oft boring teachers to deal with.  No worries, we are going to try something.

I knew I was going against the permissive grain of the parents around me.  ( Deep breath! Be brave.). Baby, take this little elastic and wear it as a bracelet. Okay. Now every time you want to get out of your seat, feel you need to tell your friends to ask unanswerable questions, shoot spit balls from your drinking box straw or tell your teacher a wild, wild story and prove her gullibility please give your wrist a little snap. Worked charmingly. No more detentions for Mom. Just 8 hours of one bored kid 5 days a week and Madame had no problem with that.

Enter the nosy Mom!  Having seen how my 90's version of the fidget spinner restored classroom peace for me Mom 1, the self appointed Mayor of Grade 1 parents, decided it was just the ticket for her bored child, too.  A day later I hear her shrill complaint.

The school called and gave her a movie of the week level warning about self mutilation. Turns out that instead of a tiny snap to remind oneself to be good her Darling decided to try to use the trick to change her friends behavior.  No matter how much she twisted that elastic....or how blue her fingers turned her friends remained annoying. Odd.

I hadnt forseen that extrapolation of my experiment. For a six year old it was a brilliant thesis. Missed one minor given, that's all. Nothing in this world you do can force another human to change. You can complain whine cry manipulate and even dominate but real change is all the other persons deal. Sorry Bunny. That's just the way it is.

We would like it to be easier to change people. As Mom and Dads, bosses and employees, lovers, friends. Unfortunately, behavior rises from so many competing factors. Personality is a strange mix of biology, experience and current and past social mores.  Behavior takes all that and then adds quality of sleep, nutrition, the environment and available tools and pops out something new at the end. It can be fantastic. It can be dismal.

Still, all we can do as humans is change ourselves.  If we change enough then sometimes people around us must change to adjust. We control how much or how little other's behavior can affect us. Our own level of tolerance determines how easy or hard that will be.  We can choose to be like Jello. Just let the cream poor over us and jiggle- largely unchanged. We can choose to stir and become a yukky mess of gelatin and dairy. Changed largely by our own reactions and behavior.

This is our human truth. Even now in the " new millennium" where we teach our children its their right to be offended by anything. Like that is a healthy notion. Sorry, kids, your rights, your feelings, your discomfort still ends at the tip of the next guys nose. Agree or disagree, be offended or dont- theres only one person we each truly control. The self.




Monday, June 25, 2012

Eden

Quarter past five.  Deep in the most private part of your soul you smile.  Your heart knows that anything useful you have been inclined to do at work today is done.  There is only one persistent drive left in you today.  The drive to punch out, say a pleasant goodbye and rush home.

The travel time is not enjoyable but  worth it.  In twenty minutes your key turns in the lock.  It is an amazing sound that key makes.  You open the door and are greeted with open affection.  You set down your bag and spend the next 40 minutes hearing amazing stories.  "Do you know what ?  Manda was in art and she was laughing 'cause Issac burped and it was soooooo funny, and the teacher said "That is enough" and we tr-i-e-d not to laugh but we couldn't and Manda had milk come out her nose!"   I bet that was pretty funny. "And guess what else, we only have four more days of school, and then next year, we might get this teacher and he's a really nice teacher, and if we get him he  has ipods in his class and if we get him, know what else?  We get to use them when we are done our stuff and I really, really really hope I get him."  That just might happen, kiddo.  I am pretty glad that you are already excited about next year.

You smile inside and it hits you.  There has not been one single development at work today that can hold a candle to the conversation you just had.  This moment right here was the most important meeting on your schedule.   So, you make dinner and check for homework while your gorgeous husband shows the munchkin how much the cucumber plant has grown.  You thank your lucky stars that he is home tonight with you. It means  there may just be a long walk in the country or a drive out to the lake for all of you, together.  You hear them giggle.  It is not the kind of giggle you hear at work where you wonder; What has happened now?   Just innocent bell-like laughter and with it the tension in your neck begins to melt away.

It is good to be home.  It is magical.
Glowing Earth

It is full of this indefinable thing we choose to call love.  A sometimes chaotic fusion of baking, WII games, guinea pigs and back rubs. Of wall hangings handmade just because He thinks you might like them. A quick nibble on the back of your neck while you fold socks. Snapshots and portraits and preschool art frames glimmering in the background.  A list of chores of  Sisyphean proportion to keep it all running in some predictable order.  As much a thinking game as it is slugging to get it done.  A constant series of questions we ask ourselves:  How do I make it better?  Make them happier?  Guide them in the right direction?  Keep it positive and inspiring?

 Outside these walls the world can knock you out repeatedly whether you are four or forty.  Bullies. Irate customers. Idiot drivers. The just plain rude.  Disappointment can reign sometimes out there- but at home it has no hold.   We plot against it here.  Fortify against frustrations.  Actively build each other up in a cocoon of safety, strength and respect.  The next time we head out the door we each take a little bit of home as the courage that beats within us.

Yet, it is only four walls and a roof.  It is pleasant, organized and comfortable.  It could
Summer Fun
use a new coat of paint.  No one is knocking from Architectural Digest to say, "Hey, can we do a photo shoot?"  Yet, it somehow, in it's simplicity, is an oasis. There is so much good here in this one small place on a very big planet that I bet it glows on google earth at night.   Like a star doused in fairy dust.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

I have a friend...

So I have this friend.  

The situation that she is in is driving me crazy.

I have known her a long time.  I have seen her go through things and be strong.  I have seen her laugh and be silly.  I have seen her grow and change and become more beautiful.  So it is hard for me to watch her be devalued.  Like any close friend,  I want what is best for her and I hope that writing about what is happening  helps put it all in perspective for her.

She is in love.  She has been for a long time.   That's a good thing and she says she is happy. She is very loyal and loves him much. She does many, many nice things for him large and small.

When I ask her about what is happening now she shrugs and says the man she loves is going through a difficult patch. That is all she says.  She just smiles and goes on.

I fear for her. I see her
eroding bit by bit and I wonder if she can go on inevitably this way.

I kind of wish that her man would read my blog and recognize himself and wonder if there is anything he could do differently. But that won't happen.

So it is what it is.  Every time she goes to work he gets upset that she has to speak to her coworkers.  He acts sort of jealous.  Throws a little fit about it with her.  Work for her is pretty stressful and his attitude is making it much harder for her to go there. I know she feels like he is making wildly inaccurate accusations.  It seems like he thinks these absolutely normal coworker conversations are some kind of betrayal of their relationship.

It amuses me somewhat.  She has shared with me that while she is at work he hangs out at his favourite haunts chatting up people for hours at a time. Even driven to play dates with other women and their children. That he has told her "tit for tat"  Guys look at you so I will look at whoever I want.   I realize that doesn't make sense.  That he is mad that guys look at her which is something she cannot control.  However, his response is something he surely can control. She has occasionally stood up for herself but it leads to more of the same.  Tragic.

This selfsame man: who claims to love her, says he won't give up "talking to his female friends".  Yet, he gets mad when she talks even to his friends unless it is a select few "that he trusts". He has no trust for her.  He expects her to trust him blindly with his coworkers, friends, people he meets in his work and online. He even wants absolute trust to go on vacation alone but heavens to Betsy she cannot even get things done at work. A five minute conversation for her at work can turn into hell at home for hours.

I know it is impairing her ability to go to her job. I know she cringes getting ready for work and expects the argument. I can say she has shared that the stress gets to her and she regularly cries herself to sleep.

I wish he would value her more.
To see what he will eventually lose if the attitude does not change.

For he will surely lose her income.  Eventually.  I am sure at some point it is going to become to difficult for her to put up with a tantrum every time she has to work.  If she doesn't freak out and get herself fired then she may decide it is easier to give notice and never leave the house.

Her personality will be the next to go.   The gradual erosion of who she is (was).  I remember a bright, funny and generous friend.  She is nearly afraid to speak now.  When she does she is quite often ignored, instantly argued with or just talked over.  It is sad really.  From time to time I have seen her begin to say something and looked forward to what it would be only to then see her interrupted.  Usually her man will start to argue with what he thought she was going to say.  Most sad of all.  He doesn't stop to wonder what she would have said if he had let her. 

I have even wondered at times how far she would go to end the pain and if we would lose her altogether. It is likely that this is overstepping my bounds and none of my business.  Oh well. It is hard to watch a friend get hurt when she has done nothing to deserve it.  She is becoming someone diminished. Someone timid.  Someone who now lacks confidence where she should have tons.

Someone I used to know but don't, really, anymore.

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Am I a *itch?

I don't want a dog.  Apparently, everyone in the house wants one. But. I. Don't. Now, do not get me wrong.  I love dogs.  Seriously,  if you had a litter of puppies at your house and I really thought you were a jerk- I would still be tempted to visit. Dogs are great and the bigger the better.  Doesn't mean I want to own one.  They require time and a lot of space and I have very little of either.  Now, usually I just assent tacitly, okay, do what you want. This time that thought is cringe worthy which has left me wondering if I am turning into a *itch.

So I consulted askmen.com and found an article entitled "Top Ten Signs that she is a *itch".  According to the website there were some tell tale signs that I am sure do not apply to me:  bossing my man around and belittling him in public, flirting with other guys and being cold hearted and manipulative. The article also stresses that a *itch will slight you in bed. Laughable. Yep, could go a hundred million years and never worry about becoming that girl.

Of course, I did not get off scott free in the article.  It also states,  she expects to be treated like a queen.  Well, duh.  I am a woman.  To quote the article "She constantly expects car rides, gifts and attention from you".  Hmmm,  could be nice and I clearly wouldn't be opposed to a ride to the job that helps pay  the bills, or the occasional thoughtful gift or moment when it wasn't always about everybody else's life and their needs.   The website is not clear on whether any of these things has had to ever actually happen in order to make me an evil witch or if only my pipe dream that they might gives me the title.

Lastly, the most questionable subject of all comes up, when the story states that *itches are selfish and treat people like trash.  I am stumped.  This one is a conundrum for me.  Balance between my feelings and needs and those of others is a big fat red flag hot button issue.  I have had someone who should have known better say "Its always about you isn't it?"  Which would lead one to believe that I am a self centered fool.  Am I?

I can only say that I try.  Hard.  I spend the vast majority of my day doing things that need to be done or that others want to  do.  I stand back when I feel I am imposing or boring or just not fun to be around.  I look ahead to how my actions are going affect someone a week or a month or a year from now in addition to today.  I often deprive myself of things or sleep to provide or give to others.  I live biting my tongue because I know how defeating it is to hear complaint after complaint.  Personally, I do not see myself as selfish. I treat people pretty well. I just get uncomfortable because the feedback I get on the subject is so negative.  Perhaps my self view is hopelessly deluded.

Going on percentages, I pass the *itch test.  The bigger question is when faced with the problem that brought me to question myself what will I do?  Woof.  Freaking woof.