It is a wise father who knows his own child.
William Shakespeare
Posts Tagged: child of narcissist
28
Mar 10
The Mom as Dad
“What’s it like to have a good dad?”
“I don’t know, sweetie.”
“How is it being the mom and the dad?” It sucks.
I can’t throw a football with a decent spiral. I don’t know the first thing about bow hunting. I just don’t understand why burping and farting is always funny. I could learn these things. I could practice and be a mom that throws an amazing spiral, but my plate is full. I want to be a wonderful mom, but dammit, I don’t want to be a wonderful dad. And I can’t be. It’s not the same. I don’t know if a boy even wants to brag about his mom being able to drive a golf ball 275 yards. Not that I can.
The morning after the fabulous ski day with their dad, the kids were working on a fun collaboration where they were filming each other as they told about their dreams. As luck (?) would have it, the night of the skiing incident, Jenny dreamt that John was her dad. He taught her magic tricks and told her exciting stories, and listened as she talked about whatever popped into her head. So Will was filming her as she gave the details of a bizarre adventure that included the three of us and John in some old, resort-like house with lots of hiding places. The house was inhabited by these little gnome people that were made out of clay and they spent their days making wooden furniture. She included enough details to make me think that I ought to phone Tim Burton and Johnny Depp.
In the middle of having her dream talk filmed, she burst into tears. I figured maybe Will had done something to piss her off. (They spend a great deal of time together.) She came to sit on my lap and told me, through big streaming tears, “I just want a good dad.”
So the three of us sat and talked about what a good dad is, and here is their list. Continue reading →
27
Mar 10
Due To Lack of Interest
“Due to lack of interest, tomorrow has been canceled.” My mom had a cartoon, with that caption, pinned to the bulletin board in the kitchen. I was old enough to read, and I’d look at that and I thought it was real. I really thought that if we weren’t interested in anything, the world would end. My mom was interested in her job, and keeping the house together. I was interested in Barbies and having tea parties. My brother was interested in Hot Wheels and shooting gophers. I guess I figured we were doing our parts. But that damn cartoon kept me up a lot of nights. Could tomorrow really be canceled? How do we keep that from happening? Maybe that’s why I’m interested (some might call me nosey) in other people and their lives. I’m hoping that if I’m interested enough, tomorrow won’t be canceled.
After a fabulous day in the sunshine, skiing with two amazing people who picked me to be their mom, I came to a conclusion. We are beyond absolutely fine. We thrive on not having to deal with Mark. In fact, we flourish.
This is where I am, right at this moment:
“Due to lack of interest*, tomorrow** has been canceled.”
* Mark’s lack of interest in Jenny and Will Continue reading →
25
Mar 10
Another One Last Try
“Jenny will not go skiing with you tomorrow unless you promise to not talk to her in the baby voice. She asked me to call you and she needs you to promise. Can you do that for her?”
Tuesday afternoon found Mark over for another visit. The weather was nice. They threw the football and played on the swings at the park. They seemed to enjoy each other. Mark and Will came in the house to ask if it would be okay for the kids to go skiing with their dad on Wednesday. I knew I was staring at a potential disaster, but until the kids could tell me that they didn’t want to go, I wasn’t going to stand in the way. My only comment was that Mark would have to ski the gentler runs all day because of Jen’s ability. He said, “Well I haven’t been able to ski with my little girl all year, and I really want to see how she’s doing.” Of course that sounded like he’s been wanting to ski with her, but really the three of us know that he hasn’t skied with her because he prefers the more challenging stuff.
Jenny still remembers the one time we saw him up there this year. He asked if he could ski a run with us because he wanted to see how Jen was progressing. She got very excited. We got off the chair lift, waited for Mark, she made three turns and he yelled, “Good job, Honey. Don’t forget to lead with your toe. I’ll catch ya later.” And he found a cut off that led to a black diamond run. Jen asked me where he went. I was stuck telling her that he chose to go down a different run.
Just this week I read a post on Kelly Diels‘ blog about how you can’t teach people how to treat you. I never have had any luck with that. But when it comes to my kids, I have to do something. And since I can’t tie their dad up, and drag him behind my car down the nearest county road, I thought I’d try teaching him. One more time.
So I made the call, explained that Jen didn’t want to go skiing, but that if he could promise to talk to her like the grown up little girl that she is, she would reconsider. And he said, “Well, she’s my little girl and I love her.” Okay. I know that. I gave him some more time to think about it. He didn’t offer anything, so I said, “Do you think you can put aside the baby voice tomorrow?” He hesitated and said he would try. Continue reading →
24
Mar 10
The YCMTSU File
YCMTSU stands for You Can’t Make This Shit Up.
I just got off the phone with my dad. To be honest, he called yesterday and I didn’t pick up. I hear you gasping. A couple months ago when I did pick up he was having some financial problems, so I was a little gun-shy yesterday. But because I am a bad Catholic daughter, the guilt got the best of me today and I picked up.
He said he’d tried calling yesterday. I said I was skiing. That was a lie. (Told you I was a bad Catholic.) He said, “I didn’t know you were a skier.” I said, “Dad, I’ve skied with you. You know I’m a skier.” He said, “I don’t have any short term memory anymore.” I said, “Dad, I’ve been skiing for 37 years.”
He called to share a story with me. It seems that yesterday he’d decided to “end it all”. He’s sick of the weather, his car broke down, his renters aren’t paying and he’s done with the whole damn thing. (Please understand that I have heard the “end it all” talk my whole life. First, I heard it from my grandma, then my dad. This talk is attention-getting at it’s worst.) I reminded him that the Catholic Chrch wouldn’t really take too kindly to his committing suicide. He said, “Well, yes. I would go straight to hell.” I said, “What’s the point of being a good Catholic all those years only to end it with suicide and go straight to hell?” He said, “Well…….”
I said, “Geez, Dad, at least you could wait until the end of golf season. You’ve got at least one more good season in ya.” He said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve been swinging really well. I’ll rethink this thing in October.”
I said, “So did you call to give me the story of “Ending it all”? He said, “Oh yeah, that’s right. So I was walking to meet my buddies for lunch at Burger King. You know, since my car broke down. And as I was walking across the street I saw a big semi and some trucks heading for me and I thought, ‘I could do this right now.’ So I stopped in the middle of the road. And you know what happened? The truck in the front stopped and the semi stopped and everybody else stopped.” I said, “Well, Dad, I guess God put his big hand down to direct traffic, huh?” He said, “Guess who was driving the first truck that stopped.” I said, “I don’t know, Dad, tell me.” Continue reading →
23
Mar 10
Enthusiasm
If you can give your son or daughter only one gift, let it be enthusiasm.
Bruce Barton
22
Mar 10
On Pancakes and Love
We eat a lot of pancakes around here, and I never make any of them. I’m decent in the kitchen, but I’ve never been good at breakfast. I do make great toast. Will has been making pancakes since we moved to this house. First, he started with Bisquick, then it was Krusteaz and then some kind of fancy, healthy buckwheat mix, and now he makes pancakes from scratch.
From the beginning, I figured that he couldn’t do a lot of damage, so I didn’t give him many tips, other than, “Don’t burn yourself.” He likes the fact that he handles the whole project from start to finish. I ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ a lot. I talk about how the caramelization on this batch is perfect. Mostly, I give him strokes, eat a couple pancakes, and clean up the mess. Jenny doesn’t like pancakes. Every time he makes a batch, Will asks Jen if she’d like one. She always politely declines. I like that Will always offers. I like that Jen politely declines. He isn’t bummed that she doesn’t want any; she doesn’t feel like she has to have one.
And because absolutely everything reminds me of relationships, I got to thinking about how Will’s pursuit of the perfect pancake is a lot like the work involved in a healthy relationship. I realize that, given my track record, I may know absolutely nothing about healthy relationships. With my complete lack of credibility in the relationship department, you may want to scroll down to the bottom for Will’s pancake recipe.
Bisquick makes a decent pancake. It’s quick and easy and it fills you up. Krusteaz may have a little more flavor. They are just as simple to make, so since they have more flavor, they seem like the logical choice. The buckwheat mix is a little harder to find, but they don’t require a lot more work, and they are healthier to eat. Throughout the experimentation with these different pancake mixes, Will has learned the constants. The batter shouldn’t be too thin nor too thick. The pan has to be hot. Butter the pan a bit before pouring in the batter. Wait until the bubbles start popping before you flip the cake. All of these constants apply to each type of mix.
After mastering these pre-made pancake mixes, he was ready for the big leagues. He asked if he could find a recipe and make some from scratch. He’d already learned that the wet things are added to the combined dry things. He just needed a listing of what those wet and dry things were. He’s been making scratch pancakes for over a year now. We all marvel at how much better the from-scratch pancakes are. They are more moist and tender. They have this delicate sweetness and a nice crust. There is an amazing difference, and we’re only talking pancakes here. The scratch cakes make you want to have more than one. Continue reading →
19
Mar 10
Good Signs
“When the moon hits your eye
Like a big-a pizza pie
That’s amore.”
Sung by a gray plastic, full moon face with lips that moved. Will had been given this as a gift. I believe the singing moon was some sort of yard decoration. When Will was four, he really got a kick out of that annoying thing. At one point, I had covered the sound holes with duct tape.
I put up with loud, obnoxious toys if those toys buy me 15 minutes to write an email, brush my teeth and go to the bathroom.
I think that moon sang for the last time at the city dump. Will had given me permission to get rid of it.
When I first saw this little house that we call home, I knew it was perfect. I had walked by it several times and assumed it was too small for the three of us, but the realtor talked me into taking a look. Continue reading →
17
Mar 10
I Am A Liar
This morning we woke to broken shortbread cookie bites and green sugar sprinkles strewn across the kitchen counter and along the floor. A confused Barbie was standing erect in Will’s leprechaun trap. More cookie bites were laying around Jen’s upturned trap. No luck. They still haven’t managed to catch a real leprechaun.
Since Will was five, our home has been annually visited by Larry the Leprechaun. He leaves apples in Jen’s Crocs, stuffed animals in the fridge, bananas on the T.V., tips the furniture and generally wreaks havoc in a playful, good-spirited nature. A couple years ago, the kids collaborated on a pretty brilliant trap. The bait was a pile of coins. On the morning of the 17th, we could see that the money was gone, and all that was left was a pair of leprechaun shoes. That’s the closest they’ve ever gotten to actually catching Larry.
Will is a very literal fellow. He has a single-mindedness that drives him to excel at skateboarding, skiing and golf. It’s that same single-mindedness that makes it almost impossible for him to see the forest for the trees. Trees, hell, he pretty much focuses on the pine needles or the dust on the pine needles. Jenny has a pretty broad lens. She’s four years younger than her brother. She’s going to figure out that Santa and Larry aren’t real long before her brother does. I keep thinking Will is going to catch on and figure out that I’m really Larry, Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. But last night, we were getting ready for bed, and Will panicked. “Dang. Tomorrow’s the 17th and my trap isn’t done!” He scurried around, grabbed a decorated paint can, a gawdy St. Paddy’s Day necklace, a handful of coins and some duct tape. He definitely works better under pressure. Jenny’s trap was completed a week ago and has been hanging – in the middle of the walkway between kitchen and dining room – from a nail. She loaded it with a – now stale – slice of whole wheat bread and a piece of biscotti. I figure I’ll wait a few years before telling her that the better enticement for a leprechaun would be a mug of beer.
As I’m watching Will race around the house, scrambling to put his trap together, I was asking myself some serious parenting questions. Am I perpetuating a fun myth and prolonging the fantasies of childhood, or am I out-and-out lying? I think I have been assuming that he would figure these myths out on his own. At this point, I picture him looking in the mirror while shaving, and having the sudden realization that his mom is really the guy in the big red suit.
I think it’s safe to say that most parents lay awake at night contemplating their parenting skills. I have a tape running through my mind that asks, “How much money should I be setting aside for the inevitable counseling they will need? Was this a good idea to home school? When do we have the sex talk? Should I tell him about sex before I tell him about Santa?” Continue reading →
16
Mar 10
More Lemonade
“Hey, Big Brother, do ya need to use the potty so you don’t have an accident? I’m sure mom could run out and get some diapers that’d fit ya.” Jen and I have been having a grand time teasing Will about whether he’s actually potty trained or not.
I don’t know if my kids are developing thick skins or wicked senses of humor — probably both. They’re also learning to read moods. Jenny was careful to let the dust settle on Will’s story – about his dad asking him if he needed to use the bathroom at the ski hill. There is a narrow window, right after the telling of the story, where hurt feelings have to be acknowledged. Jen and I made a point of telling Will that we imagined how mortified he must have been. We allowed him enough time to kick rocks and say a few choice words. But after that, it’s no holds barred. We dish it out like crazy, make light of the situation, and have a bunch of good laughs, with Will laughing right along with us. I’ve said before that if we don’t laugh at the weirdness of this narcissism, we’ll be spending way too much time with upset stomachs.
As Paulo Coelho says, “ If someone hurts you, react. Forgiveness comes afterwards.” I have to think that humor has to come before forgiveness. Actually it’s probably something more like this:
- get hurt
- react
- swear a lot
- eat junk food
- laugh
- put forgiveness on the calendar
My kids tip-toed around me for a few days after the whole John thing. I’m making fun of myself, now, so they see that they can lighten up, too. I informed them that, “I am pretty fabulous. It’s just that I haven’t found anyone else who believes me.” They both jumped to my defense and said, “Well, we think you’re fabulous!” And then all the ‘excepts’ started. “You’re fab except for when you yell at us. Except for when you make me eat that stir-fry stuff. Except for when you don’t let us watch too much T.V.” And on and on. When they come up with more ‘excepts’, I remind them that we’ll be cruising in May. I’m going to get as much mileage out of that cruise as I possibly can.
Continue reading →
15
Mar 10
Just When You Think There’s a Glimmer of Hope…
“Ah, Dad… I’m actually 11 now. Yeah, I turned 11 on my birthday. In September? I’m not 10, I’m 11.” Mark and Will had gone to the sporting goods store to check out compound bows. Will and I had been in a couple days before, and Will wanted his dad’s opinion on the bows we had talked about. And since I’m completely clueless on the subject, it was a good idea to get another opinion, even if it was Mark’s. So they are talking to the sales guy, asking all the pertinent questions, and Mark says, “What type of bow would you recommend for a 10 year old?” Will later told me that even after he’d corrected his dad, Mark treated him like, “Geez, buddy, I’m your dad. You think I don’t know how old you are? Of course, I know how old my own son is.”
Will was pretty disgusted by the time he got home. So much so, in fact, that he fired off an email to his dad. The email said this:
“Today you were talking to the guy that was helping us with the archery and you said, ‘Do you have any compound bows for a ten yr old?’ By the way I’m eleven and since you are my dad I expect you to remember how old I am, and I especially do right now because I just had my birthday.”
I admit that I thought Will was overreacting a bit. I’m often asking the kids to give me a break. I explain that my ‘filing cabinets’ are jammed. The manila file folders are tattered and dog-eared, and covered with coffee stains. Some of the important papers are missing, some are filed in the wrong place, and some have yet to be filed. This is my way of telling them that I forget stuff. I’m old. Sue me. I do try really hard not to forget things, but it happens. Their dad is 12 years older than I am, so he forgets even more than I do. And, (don’t freak when you read this) I’ve suggested that they give their dad a break, once in awhile, too. It wouldn’t hurt for all of us to be a little more tolerant, right? (Said the accommodator.) Continue reading →
14
Mar 10
Jenny As Dr. Phil
“So how are you? Really.” The three of us went for coffee and biscotti at my aunt and uncle’s a couple days ago. They had been out of town when things came to an end with John. She wanted an update. After I gave her the nutshell version, I had a question that I was apprehensive about asking. I wanted to know if my wanting to sometimes be a priority in a relationship made me a narcissist. I can trust her to be honest with me. She didn’t even hesitate and said, “I know that you understand that it is a balance. Once in awhile, you are the priority, and then it will be his turn to be the priority. But yes, you deserve to occasionally be the focus, and that doesn’t make you a narcissist.” Whew! And because I liked her answer, I will assume that she is right.
I explained that I have always felt like I hold up residence on the back burner in relationships. Jenny was partially listening in on this conversation. She jumped down from her chair, came over to me and intently looked at me with her big blue eyes. We were nose to nose and she said, “Mom! You should be the noodles, and he should be the water, and you should both be in the same pot on the front burner.”
11
Mar 10
Lemonade, Rocks and Books
So now what? I know how I got into these relationships. I know what to do differently once I’m in one. I am learning new things about myself; what I want; what I don’t want, and what I will compromise on. I know the sweetness of the good parts, and I know the sour of the parts I won’t live with.
It’s time to come down from the roof. I can’t spend my whole day drinking coffee, no matter how good it is. (Although, it’s good to allow myself a couple days of spoiling, reflection, whimpering and chocolate.)
Got an email from a girlfriend last night. (Thanks, Kath — seriously.) She said, “Go out to dinner with the outdoorsy guy. What have you got to lose? You gotta keep the door open.” Yuk. I’m just fine with the door closed for now. And I’m not missing the emotional roller coaster one bit. (Guess she didn’t read the post about how much I don’t like shopping.) Even if I do drive a car with a stick, I’ve no desire to shift gears that quickly.
Jenny set up this cute little rock selling stand a couple days ago and it got me thinking. We are going to make lemonade from the lemons, sell the rocks from our shoes, and I’m going to seriously work on the book. And for the day-to-day survival, we are going to schedule a whole bunch of things to look forward to, otherwise known as distractions. Here’s my plan.
- Yesterday I booked the cruise for the second week of May. I’m lousy at keeping secrets, so I told the kids even before I booked it. Hell, by now I’ve figured out that the best part of any vacation is the anticipation of it, so now we can have fun anticipating together.
- Next week we will plant Sweet Pea seeds, prepare for the arrival of Larry the Leprechaun, and attend the Best Little Western Art Show in the World.
- Ski season is winding down, so we’ll hit the slopes a few more times.
- The kids and I will finish “The Great Tree of Avalon – Shadows On the Stars”. This fun book includes wonderful lessons about karma, tenacity, the struggle for good over evil, and a lot of humor, even if it’s a bit violent at times.
- I’m going to enjoy reading “The Girls from Ames”, “Do One Thing Different”, and “Marriage and Other Acts of Charity”. Never have been able to just read one book all the way through (unless it’s an Elizabeth Berg) because my mood changes from the time I wake until the time I hit the pillow again.
- We are still deciding on a dog. At this point, we’ll fall in love after the cruise.
- Kids are signed up for some art lessons.
- I am working on the book.
- Golf season overlaps with ski season. I have new divots in the front yard before the grass has had a chance to green up.
- And just yesterday, Jenny learned to ride a two-wheeler, so that opens up a whole summer of riding bikes along the river.
10
Mar 10
Karma and Irony
My recipe for moving on includes a healthy dose of humor. It has to. Humor got me through, and out of, my relationship with Mark. Humor will do the same for me now. I have to share a funny observation with you.
During this time period, where I had all my hopes pinned on John, there have been a few other fellows who have tried to throw their hat in the ring. They are nice guys. One keeps calling and wants to take me out to dinner and has enthusiastically invited my kids. I saw him recently, when Jen and Will were in tow, and he said, “Hey, kids! How are you? What’s new?” He tries. He might want to try to remember their names next time. He’s funny, creative and outdoorsy.
Another has started writing letters. He is another long distance fellow. The red flags are obvious. I’m not cut out for the long distance stuff. This fellow is sensitive, thoughtful, smart, introspective, interesting and asks me about myself and my life. He doesn’t shy away from talking about kids and shares his own experiences with raising kids. We write back and forth without the pressure of worrying about whether we are liked by the other, or not. That really frees a person up to write whatever they feel or think.
I met another fellow through work. We have similar creative interests, speak the same language about work related stuff and communicate very easily. I remember in one of those conversations, he got sidetracked and asked me about how or when I decided to leave Mark. I felt the strangest sensation when he asked the question. I got the impression that when he asked, he really wanted to hear my answer. He wasn’t just making conversation. I think that must be what it feels like when someone really listens to you.
And the other fellow is someone I’ve known for awhile. We swap stories about kids, skiing, work and life. He’s a pleasant fellow – sensitive, thoughtful, considerate, funny, smart. We have a lot of things in common. Continue reading →
