This is supposed to be fiction, but life can often be stranger than fiction. I am sitting on a plane after having to leave the Lady Talis behind due to illness. Now I am listening to the airline staff talk about a medical emergency on the plane. That continues to be a bad omen. I have not been back to Iowa for many years, and this is an auspicious start to say the least.
I do think I need the time away. I am growing more and more stressed about the things I cannot change in spite of what I tried to force myself to believe yesterday. There are several factors at play here. One is disappointment. I have always expected things from my kids. I have always desired for them to do more and do better and want more than I have or at least land where I am. Yet I can look at each of the six and see a different aspect of myself. Ego, carefreeness, drive, insecurity, laziness, and complacency. Each kid represents a different aspect. I presently live with laziness and insecurity. This means that when I see them and their behaviors I see myself and all the things I did wrong and all the time and energy I wasted across the years. When I see them doing that It infuriates me. It angers me even more given that I am forced to work harder, work around the lazy, and do more in order to cover for a kid who won’t do anything without specifically being asked or told to do so, and often then the work is done with minimal effort. This is who he is. I love him. Still pisses me off.
Insecurity pisses me off just as much, because I know he’s on the path to be a professional athlete and is not going to make it unless he dumps that dangerous aspect. The truth is, my insecurity sunk me. It wasn’t just laziness. I was scared of being exposed as not good enough. That fear has held me back my entire life, and I don’t want to see the same thing happen to him. So, when he plays down to the level of his opponents, when he takes plays off, when he refuses to try anything new or interesting and instead hides in his room doom scrolling, all of that is drenched in my anger. I love him. I don’t want to see him fail. I might anyway.
This is my reality. This is my stress. I live in a space where I am working every day to get better and not one of my kids is doing the same. If I’m being honest, I deserve better. Maybe that is arrogant to say, but I’ve worked hard to give them a great life. I’ve worked hard to build them a safety net. So, yeah. I have an investment and I have an expectation. I want more for them.