Since this is featured online and not going under my mattress and under lock and key within a little, pink diary, I'm going to try to blur the details. This is mostly a place for me to vent. Well, as a mother I'm going to need a source in which I can regurgitate all my mental woes. Otherwise I might go ballistic and turn into some lunatic who streeks across neighbors yards. Okay, yeah. That's never going to happen. I'm more in charge of my faculties than that, I suppose.
Today is my young daughter's first day back at school and it is driving me crazy. I'm not going to be rejoined with any sense of sanity until I bring her home from school this afternoon. I'm beyond protective of her and maybe that's not entirely my fault. It's no big wonder that I'm this way, considering how my parental figures practically locked me up from childhood to adolescence (to infinity and beyond...). I had absolutely no freedom. I wasn't allowed to hang out with friends; couldn't go to birthday parties; wasn't able to take on any responsibilities that might naturally come with moving forth into ones teenage years. My Mom wouldn't even allow me to walk to school on my own until my younger brother and I finally had to lay down the law. And, yes, I do realize how insubordinate we were by that point, but this was a case of where a 14 year old and an 11 year old had finally had enough of being squeezed to the point of breathlessness. A long, boring story about how I did NOT come into my own followed, but I won't go into that right now. Right now I'm just hoping my own child will be alright.
Considering all of the above (my history of confinement and restriction coupled with today's reservations), there's also another thing that really needs to be brought into view. My mom never really had a terribly good reason for keeping me in her protective shadow for far too long. My little brother and I were very advanced. It's not easy to tell these days, but I got a very early start. I was reading and writing well before I was even potty-trained. So was my little brother. My mother had so many opportunities to give us the freedom she never really had. Instead, she imposed her unappeasable demons on us, I suppose, and thus passed them down in return. I'm not blaming her. Of course not. For one, as an adult, we all have the option to open our eyes and to strive to come into our own. But I'm of the mind that environmental factors during the course of our upbringing reign upon us even through adulthood. For instance, I think children who are encouraged to be less dependent on their parents might possibly have a better chance of succeeding in life. Whereas those who are brought up in a world of confinement, who are told of the dangers that lurk in society and who are given every comfort possible within their own homes will be less inclined to venture forth into the great wide open. So here's my dilemma. How do I not repeat that mistake?
With that said, my own child has always been thirsty for knowledge and very willing to learn. She's full of questions which she does not hestitate to ask. I feel even more protective over her, though, because she has developed quite a bit more slowly than her peers. While those of her age group were learning how to speak, how to walk, how to go to the potty and even how to form full sentences and to engage in conversation, she was still struggling along. Still, she has trouble formulating sentences and conversing with others her age. Also, there are some boundary issues. She's not without a modicum of understanding. When I tell her not to do something, sometimes she will listen, but others she just goes about her business. For instance, she'll touch other girls' hair or grab their hands. Yesterday, I had a talk with her. When I asked her not to do that, she gave me a look of understanding along with an "Okay." That's not enough for me, as she's very much a "repeat offender". And, yes, that did make me laugh to write that. At least I'm feeling a little more light-hearted in this process. Hopefully she'll have taken my words to heart and she'll be a little less touchy-feely today. I'm also hoping that she'll be able to function independently and continue to do things on her own as the school year goes on. I'm just so worried for her. So worried.
Already I feel like a failure. I'm afraid, not for myself, but for my own child. Sure I have my own dreams to set forth and accomplish, but first and foremost I'm fearful that I'm going to fall short in parenting. I just hope that I can give my child what I was never given. The freedom to grow.
