Creating space for meaningful conversations about sexual intimacy.

 

Posts tagged: grandmother

You are now free to move about the country

Last month, my mother-in-law (who has never been in the military) pulled the most brilliant of sneak attacks on us. As she was chatting away with my five-year old on Skype video, she said very casually asked, “Are you coming to Texas to spend your summer with me? You are old enough to fly by yourself now.” My daughter was instantly bouncing off the walls, announcing to everyone in sight that she was flying to Texas for the whole summer. To her, it was a done deal.

Needless to say, I was less than thrilled.  I gave my mother-in-law big props for using all the leverage she could manage in the situation because, while it annoyed me, I probably would have done the exact same thing if I had been in her shoes. However, I was a little ticked that my daughter would be so quick to be ecstatic about leaving me for such a long time, although Eric and I have worked long and hard to encourage her sense of independence.  Most of all though, I felt fear.  A lot of fear.

What if the plane crashed? What if she got lost??? What if something happened during the flight and Riley needed help? What if….??? What if…???

As I tend to tackle problems analytically, I worked through each level of fear logically. I reminded myself that statistically, Riley is in more danger in my car than an airplane. It just has the illusion of safety because we do it all the time. I called the airlines and was assured that a child is never without the company of a responsible adult at every point of the trip. As for my other fears, they were addressed by the fact that Riley is incredibly good at verbalizing her requests and needs and superb at entertaining herself. (I do feel sorry for the person who gets seated next to her, because she does like to have lengthy conversations with adults.)

But all that logic didn’t make me feel any better. I wasn’t any closer to making a decision about whether I could let her go. All the answers to my own questions just sounded like excuses, contrived to trick me into letting my daughter do a very foolish thing. But something was niggling in me to keep thinking about the issue.

So when logic couldn’t help me, I went to my values. What do I really value for Riley? What type of woman do I want to raise her to be? The answers came easily.

  • A sense of adventure.
  • Independence.
  • A deep bond with her grandmother.

How does a child learn to value adventure? She has to experience it. How does a child become independent? She has to practice being on her own and realizing that she is capable. And how does a child form a deep bond with her grandmother who lives over 3,000 miles away? She has to actually spend time with her. And time without Mom and Dad hovering close by.

It was at that point in my thought process that I realized that my values must be reflected in my actions not just in my words. If I say these values are important to me, but I refuse – out of my own fear – to allow Riley to take the necessary steps to ingrain these values in her life, I am just spouting off verbiage to make myself look good. After all, what parent ever proudly boasts, “I want my daughter to be completely dependent on others her whole life” or “I want my daughter to live her life bound up in fear of the unknown” or “I don’t want my daughter to bond with her grandmother” (unless, of course, grandma is unhealthy for her)???  No one says these things – yet it is so easy to do the things that lead to them if we aren’t careful.

The concept of values and actions comes into play in our sex lives as well. If what we say we value is different that what we actually do, then we need to pay heed to that disconnect.

Let’s say that we profess that a frequent sex life is important, but sex just never seems to happen. We get really busy during the day with the kids and so we are too tired at night. It looks really good on the surface – makes us appear to be phenomenal parents because we give so much to our kids. But is pouring into our kids an excuse to avoid intimacy?

Here’s another one. Perhaps our dirty little secret is that Lost, or The Bachelor or Leno is more important to us that bonding with our spouses. It’s just so easy to leave that TV on instead of interacting together. Ultimately, TV demands a lot less of us.

Here’s an exercise for you. Sometime this week, take a piece of paper and draw a line down the center. Label one side as “values” and the other as “actions”. Values reflect what you believe to be important and actions are what you actually do. If there is a disconnect between the two, then write down two new actions that you can take this week to support your values. If your actions and values are way out of alignment, then pick two actions to do each week until you find the situation rectified.

Just so you know, Riley is booked to visit her grandmother in Texas this summer. Since this is the first year of travel alone, we are starting out with three weeks. I am still fearful. I do, however, wholeheartedly believe that my responsibility as a parent is to confront my own fears for the growth of my child. It is not easy, but the values I hold are too precious to be held hostage by fear.

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

Yesterday, we went tree hunting. We didn’t have to go far, because we live in a rather unique area. Suburbia is encroaching on farm land all around us. It is not uncommon to be driving past rows of houses and then come across a field of horses or cows and then, just moments later, pop back out in a densely developed section again. I can leave my subdivision and five minutes later I am at the Christmas tree farm where we buy our trees each year.

Normally, I am the tree Nazi. The tree has to be large, positioned just so, and decorated according to proper protocol. The lights go on first, then the bows, then the balls and then the rest of the ornaments. All ornaments must be hung equidistance from each other to give a well-balanced and uniform appearance. Ugly ornaments (which are there for the sheer sentimental value) go in the back. As you can imagine, trimming the tree can be a stressful experience for all of us as I strive to craft the perfectly decorated tree.

However, I have been learning a lot about the draw-backs of perfection lately, so this year I decided that Riley could do the tree. After all, we were doing it for her anyways, so why not let her decide what should go on? I did ask that the lights go on first, but other than that it was free game. No bows or balls? No problem. You picked the tree skirt that doesn’t match? I can live with that too. This is your tree, baby girl.

I tucked myself away in the kitchen making Mexican hot chocolate while Eric and Riley started on the tree. I pretended that this was to make us all feel warm and homey, but in truth it was more so that I didn’t completely stress out about the way the tree was turning out. When I brought out the drinks, the delight on Riley’s face was radiant.

“Will you help me, Mommy?”

“Of course. How about I unwrap ornaments and you can hang them?”

As I passed the ornaments to Riley, I realized I was retelling our history. There is an ornament with our wedding photo on it; a Belleek ornament from our honeymoon in Ireland, a hedgehog ornament because our first pet was a hedgehog named Squeeze. We have ornaments from our time living in Nepal, one from the Tavern on the Green while we were celebrating our 5 year anniversary in New York, one from a trip with my 80 year-old grandmother to Israel. We have a tin can ornament that my mother made early in her marriage when money was tight. We have an atrocious play dough bunny I made in kindergarten and some God-awful blue thing that comes from my husband’s childhood. He swears it is a Christmas elf.  (It is my deep and selfless love for him alone that has allowed it to survive in my house at all these many years.)

Riley’s first Christmas is represented on the tree. Her and her father’s shared love for the classic claymation Christmas movies is reflected there. We even have a Barbie in her Corvette. Because, well, the Corvette Barbie is just cool.

And this year, because I was not driving the tree trimming extravaganza, I was able to sip my hot chocolate and see the compilation of memories slowly reassemble on the tree. Our tree each year is a celebration of our shared history together.

I did notice that we don’t have ornaments representing the difficult times. We don’t have anything to depict financial turmoil or betrayal or loss that we have experienced over the years. However, the very fact that we are setting up a tree again means that we have made it past those times to celebrate our good memories together.  And those are the memories we treasure!

Last week, I asked you to write a letter to your lover of the top gifts s/he has given you. This week, I encourage you to think back over your years together. What milestones have you accomplished together? What have you achieved together? What new “ornament” are you going to hang this year?

I have learned my lesson. This year was much more enjoyable than previous years. No, the tree is not perfect. There are clumpings of ornaments and that God-awful blue thing is front and center. But I am much more grateful that I ever have been in past years. And that is what I will be thinking of when I look at the tree this year.

—editor’s note—

The Christmas Elf is neither god-awful nor technically front and center on the tree…though it is not hidden away on the back side this year because we conveniently “ran out of room at the front” as in years past (every year past come to think of it).   It is however a wonderful memory of my childhood (and therefore the early 1970s).  But I have complete faith in the judgment of you good folks reading this.  And so, instead of forcing you to believe how cute the ornament is, I shall give you opportunity not only to see it, but to vote on its very cuteness or god-awfulness as you see fit.  I give you:

THE GREAT CHRISTMAS ELF VOTE OF 2009

elf-ornament

I find the above Christmas Elf to be:

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