out on a limb continued: working it through

Note: I wrote this post this morning, when I was still working though some problems in my own head. It has sat all day in Drafts, and I didn't think I would send it. But now I have decided that I will send it. It Is What It Is, and I'll not apologize for being hurt, doubtful, vulnerable, and worried. If you can't take it, don't read it. I don't mean to be rude - I'm just feeling defensive.

Sometimes I resent having to come up with answers all on my own.
Sometimes I feel angry that people don't share wisdom like "Seven year old boys are obnoxious."
Sometimes it pisses me off that I have to read on someone's blog "I'm sorry that stating whom I was voting for (or what I was worried about) offended you because you do not come here to read about reality, only about sweetness".

At the moment I'm upset about these particular things.
Not that I'll remain angry and hurt about it, for no doubt as soon as I'm done here I'll be feeling better.
And it's not my intent to relieve myself of frustration while upsetting others.
But hell's bells.

After my friend sent me the email, and after I had talked with Trev, and after my Aunt's note of encouragement, I eventually arrived to a place of "You're trying to separate it from "usual" - to make the specific situation be the problem, and it's not. It doesn't matter if it's two boys or two girls, or one of each. It's the same." (when we're talking about a tot, and what is funny or interesting. Noses, ears, tummy buttons, or parts.)

So often when I'm having a big problem with something, I cannot step out of my own head to fix it.
Like when I was around 29 or 30, and Eric said something about "kind of have a crush on her", and I was ready to kill him. Not because he had a crush on someone (I knew he adored me, and did not feel threatened by it), but because I had been ready to leave him the year before because I had found someone attractive and thought it meant that I no longer wanted to be with Eric.
And that I felt like a horrid mother because I found my child annoying, until I read "seven year old boys are obnoxious." That was a doozy. One day I had this sweet boy, and the next I had this Beastie that thinks poo and burping is hilarious, and that spends some of his time coming up with the most obnoxious and annoying sounds and screams on the planet. Mighty irritating at times, I can tell you.

So here I am, complaining that no one ever writes about these things to enlighten me with The Truth Of Things.

Yesterday I needed a "You're making too much of this. It doesn't matter that Maddie is a girl and Trev's a boy. She'd be doing the same thing if Trev were a girl."
or
"Talk with Trev about it."
Which I did again, this morning....
"Trev, can I talk for a minute?"
Maddy hadn't gotten out of bed, yet. We were in the livingroom - he had come in to get a prehistoric documentary.
"Sure, Mom."
"I wanted to talk to you about why I freaked out yesterday." As I have been trying to backpedal since then. Process, don't you know.
"Okay, Mom."
"The reason why the "privaxx parts" are private, is because that's where the sex organs are... the mating organs."
"Mom," he laughs, "Please don't say organs!!!" bwahhaha
Trev has a very sweet and charming way about him with "private" time. He'll say things like "when Annabelle will have puppies, she'll mate with a Male, then a while later, she'll have Privacy and have her puppies."
"But... do you understand that that's why we keep that to ourselves? That they're not for others to touch, and for touching others with?" (thanks for that one, S)
"Mom." blink. "You should be saying this stuff to Maddie, not me. I already know about this stuff."
"Well," I love you so much - thankyou for being so blase' about this and helping me through it, "I just want you to understand that I need you to tell me if things like that happen."
"Okay, Mom." And off he ran with his Before The Dinosaurs in hand.
So it's now been down-graded to a non-issue.

But I don't understand how even in this day of ultra communication, we still have to have these sorts of rough patches.
I understand that people are hesitant to put themselves on the block (believe me, I understand this!), for all and sundry to judge and condemn, but why does it have to be like that?
When I was trying to search for information yesterday, I ran across a parenting site of questions and issues. This woman had said that her daughter complained of burning when she was bathed with soap, and wanted to know if it was normal. I can just imagine the thoughts going through her head.... "has she been hurt?" "why does she seem irritated?" and so forth.... and, thank God, several people wrote back, "Perfectly normal, soap is not needed, self-cleaning oven," etc.
I could well understand her concern - these are precisely the same sort of worries that I have.
No doubt she was terrified of even asking... was worried that people would doubt, judge and condemn her. (With whom does she leave her children, Doesn't she watch carefully, etc)

Of course I understand that these are specific concerns, and not something the General Society wants to read about over their morning tea, but obviously folks besides me have these sorts of concerns, and what is the benefit in pretending that people don't?
It seems to me that not talking about our hopes, trials and fears is just separating us more from finding friendship, empathy and love with our fellow man.

Oh, no, that's not for blogs!
Psh. Take it somewhere else, Indeed.
Where, I ask you?

And now, [PUBLISH POST]