His knees make this strangely hollow sound when he smacks them together. Imagine taking two 2×4’s wrapped in fleece, and hitting them against each other. Will is a thin 11 year old. He doesn’t have a lot of padding, especially around his knees. He’s gone through an interesting series of nervous ticks. I don’t think of the knee-knocking as a nervous tick, but I’ve noticed that he does this when he’s playing a game on the computer, or when he’s talking on the phone with his dad.
We went skiing with grandpa yesterday. It was another great day at the ski hill. As tired as I am of the snow, it has made for some amazing conditions this year. Jenny and I don’t feel the need to ski every single day. Will doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with skiing every single day. As we were driving home from the hill yesterday, we were talking about what to do on Sunday. Will has a standing invitation to ski on Sundays with Mark. (Jenny sort of has a standing invitation. That means that Mark has invited her to ski on Sundays, but has implied that it will really be more fun for her when she can ski the more challenging runs. “Daddy loves to ski with you on the days you go with mommy.” That means he makes an appearance on the green run, exclaims loudly how his little girl is skiing so beautifully, and then ditches her for the black diamond runs. We all know that Mark won’t sacrifice a full day of skiing to spend it with Jenny on the easy stuff. The only reason Will has a standing invite is because he can ski everything on the hill now.) Jenny and I had made plans to go to the library this Sunday. Will was saying that he felt like maybe he should stay home and go to the library with us. Grandpa couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and he said, “What? You can’t decide between skiing and the library? Are you feeling okay?” Will knows that sounds ridiculous. You’ve heard the expressions: “A bad day of golf is better than…” “A bad day of fishing is better than…” We always say, “A bad day of skiing is better than a good day of staying at home.” It’s more than a little embarrassing for Will to weigh the prospect of skiing versus a trip to the library.
Will called his dad last night, knees knocking, and he couldn’t decide what to do. “I can go skiing with dad and the snow will be awesome. I can practice those jumps I’ve been working on. The moguls on Muley will have a fresh dusting of powder. I know it will be great. But dad will make fun of me and hurt my feelings. I don’t want to deal with that.”
Here’s where I say all the mumbo jumbo that I’m supposed to say to help my son deal with a narcissistic dad. “Try to develop a tougher skin. Let what he says ping off your coat of armor. You can’t limit the things you do in life because you are afraid that someone will say something that hurts your feelings. Focus on the good/fun part of the day. Let what he says role off your back. Or, better yet, actually come out and tell him that what he says really hurts your feelings. Stick up for yourself. Be tough. Be like Bode Miller. Be strong and ski like crazy and ignore your dad.”
In addition to the knocking knees, I’ve noticed that Will always asks his dad if anyone else will be going with them on Sundays. I don’t know if Mark has noticed that Will only likes to go with him if someone else bums a ride. Will doesn’t like to be alone with Mark. Will and I talked about how dad says his sarcastic, cutting comments when no one else is around. No one else hears those comments. That’s why it is hard from grandpa to believe that Will wouldn’t want to go skiing. That’s why the guys at the ski hill may be thinking that Mark is a pretty good guy. They don’t hear what Mark says to Will on the chair lift when no one else is around.
When we went to bed last night, Will had decided to go skiing. We talked about his armor. We talked about how he has allies, and if dad says something mean, Will can think of who is in his camp, and all the people that think he is a wonderful kid. Will is a better skier than Mark, so there is a little consolation in knowing that when his dad says that stuff, it’s probably partly due to the fact that Will is a better skier. So Will went to bed with visions of fluffy powder in his head.
This morning he got out of bed, found me sitting at the computer and he said, “I just woke up and said, “Oh crap. I have to go skiing with dad today.” There is something totally wrong with that. Will is staying home today. At least I won’t have to tell him to stop knocking his knees when we’re at the library.
Tags: all about me, child of narcissist, divorce, narcissism, narcissist behavior, narcissistic behavior, NPD, proactive, survive
Will just moved out from under the tree. I remember a great story I heard a long time ago. It goes like this:
A man was resting under his favorite tree. As he rested and daydreamed, he felt a wet, sloppy splooge land on his head. Taking out his handkerchief to wipe off the mess, he looked up and saw a large, green, crested bird with red and yellow speckles on its tail on the branch above him. The bird cocked its head and smiled at him. The man understood the bird was just doing what birds do, but he hated what the bird had done to him. His handkerchief wasn’t large enough to clean off all of what had landed on his head, so he went home to wash his hair and finish the job.
Sometime later, the man rested again under his favorite tree. Presently, he felt a large plop on his head. It stunk. It was repulsive. It ran down his neck. Incredibly, it was from the same large, green, crested bird with the red and yellow speckles on its tail. As he stared in amazement at the bird, the bird cocked his head, returned his stare, and smiled. The man was tolerant of the bird, which had only done what birds do. But he HATED what the bird had done to him. His handkerchief was no larger than the last time. He went home to take a shower and change his clothes.
When next the man felt the need to rest, he hiked again to his favorite tree. He hoped the bird would not be there. Settling under the tree, the view of the countryside filled him with a sleepy kind of peace. He raised his arms to cushion his head on his hands against the tree, and closed his eyes. Unfortunately, the large, green, crested bird with the red and yellow speckles on its tail once again interrupted his pleasure. Incredulous, he glared up at the bird. The bird cocked its head, gazed at the man, and smiled. What fell from the bird this time was by far greater in volume than any time before. It reeked. It was foul and disgusting. It ENRAGED the man. This time, the awful, slimy filth had not only covered his head and run down his neck, but had landed on his hands and run down inside his sleeves. Though he had come with towels, just in case the bird was there, he still was not prepared with enough towels to clean up what was on his clothes and in his clothes. He wondered if he would ever be clean again, even after a long, hot shower.
There came a time when, after a long day’s work, the man needed a rest. Tramping through the countryside toward his favorite tree, he walked more and more slowly. He thought about his tree and about the bird that had come to inhabit it. He loved his tree; he wanted to rest under his tree. But he did not want to have his restful time ruined by the large, green, crested bird with the red and yellow speckles on its tail. He remembered what the bird had done to him, and he remembered how it made him feel each time he rested under that tree. Maybe he should find another tree. It would make him sad not to be able to enjoy his favorite tree, but he definitely didn’t like what happened there anymore. Yes, he told himself, a different tree would be better. He told himself he might even come to love resting under this new tree. It would become his new favorite tree.
And he would ALWAYS look up before he sat down to rest.
wow… i got tears in my eyes, picturing my darling boy with bird shit all over him. No matter how pretty the bird might be, it is still shit.
Thank you so much for sending this. It will be assigned reading for tomorrow’s lesson.
You can’t change the bird, but you can change your reaction.
Most important, change the tree you sit under so you don’t have to deal with a reaction. You KNOW what’s going to happen. Don’t go there! And Will did that when he didn’t go skiing today. Yay for Will!
More and more, I think that new tree will have a different zip code.
New zip code?? We have quite a few available in MI! :)
I agree with Pat. You know its gonna happen…why do we keep sitting under that tree?
When I was growing up, it was inherently understood that you were supposed to respect adults. As I grew up in my crazy family, I took the stand that respect has to be earned, I don’t give a flying donkey who you are.
Your kids situation with their ‘dad’ grieves me. But I’m so happy that they have YOU! And I’m doubly glad that you don’t make them spend time with him.
Also, a question about the title: How would you know if it was a good day with a narcissist? I do not think that is possible. :)
LOL! I will miss you dear friend…
Donna,
In my little family it’s about flying monkeys!
I think we keep sitting under that damn tree because ‘hope springs eternal’. What if, on the very day that you decide to find a new tree, the bird stops pooping? You’ve seen the bird be nice. You know the bird is capable of being nice. Maybe the bird could be nice all the time? That’s why you keep sitting under that tree.
I thought about the title… a lot. I got pretty good at making ice cream out of bird poop. I could even find a bright spot in a day with a narcissist. But then I realized that it got to the point where I would need Prozac in order to have a decent day with a narcissist. That’s when things changed. That’s when I realized that those days weren’t good. Those were days where I was simply getting by. You are right, Donna, there isn’t anything as mythical as a good day with a narcissist.
Annie,
The coffee’s always on. :)
You’re right. You can have a bright spot in your day with a narcissist. Now, after much healing, I have days full of peaceful, bright spots!
What I noticed with my parents was that even if you were in your happy place, there was always a fear that they would poop on you in some way…….wow, its coming full circle. Everything with a narcissist leads back to poop!!! :)
I do appreciate ‘hope springing eternal’. I’m usually pretty happy and loving, and if I’m not, I work on getting there. But I think we sit under the damned tree because we are used to it. We were trained to sit under the tree, and when we aren’t in training anymore then we volunteer to sit under the tree.
Y’know, after more thought….if the bird stops pooping then it has earned the right to join you at your new tree. If not, I don’t think I’m gonna miss it much!
“….if the bird stops pooping”
That’s a pretty big ‘if’.
I’ve been trying to gently train my kids to see the bird and the tree for what they are. (I certainly don’t want to poison them about their dad, but I want them to understand and realize that his behavior is not because of who they are.) I think it’s healthy for them to see that there are lots of possible reactions, and lots of possible trees.
All this pooping, you know, is just what birds do. And when the poop lands on us, we HATE it. It’s way too much to have to deal with. So we can understand the bird, and help our kids understand the bird, but we don’t have to sit under the bird’s tree unless we enjoy the result.
Yes, so true. And it’s also true that some ‘birds’ are more considerate than others.