Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guilt. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Sign Language

You say and do so much with your eyes, Nino, you know?

Where should I put the plate? Two keen eyes that point out a barely-there space next to your book.

Hidden dad's Harry Potter? The widening and then the quick blinking of the eyes, followed by a smile that reaches the lips later.

Can I get you some more dinner? The easy-to-miss shake of the head with the eyes closed.

The mums at school tell me you've naughty and expressive eyes, that there's a glimmer of mischief there at all times.

At all times, except when you drop me off to work after school. Because then there's a thin film over them, and I take turns guessing if you're sad, hurt, lonely or just resigned to the fate of having a mum who's never around.

Friday, June 20, 2008

The story of choice

I apply the montessori philosophy of the power of choice to raising Nino, albeit in small ways. He's encouraged to choose his clothes, the books we read, or the crafts we do, for example. Usually its a simple choice - he preferrs some over the others. Sometimes, he likes to bring two choices into one decision. White tee and red night shorts.

I've been trying to achieve something like that in my life as well. I'm a working parent with long hours (eight to nine hours) and being prone to guilt as with most of my gender, I've been facing a very difficult situation: to work or to quit. I need the job to make ends meet, but I hate spending so much time away from Nino - who is well cared for in my absence by his caregiver and grand parents. He's not particularly scarred with my absence - my mother has worked all her life and I've turned out pretty secure. It's me. I don't want to be away for that long. Nino's Dad doesn't agree - he's looking at the fianances - and we've just had an awful fight during the drive to work. I've been thinking working part time will be like bringing two choices into one decision. Unfortunately for me, neither the husband nor the boss seem to like the idea. As I sobbed this morning, in a fleeting moment of self pity, it occured to me, that I've not really ever 'enjoyed' the power of choice when it comes to Nino. When I got pregnant, I did not want to be a mother. Now that I want to be one - a hands-on one, desperately, I can't afford to.

I wonder what my mother would say if she read this - she'd remind me of all the things I've to be grateful for - but you know, sometimes, choice becomes the opportunity cost of gratitude. I'm grateful, but am I happy? Or is happiness too an urban legend, something that we've conveniently labelled as a 'state of mind'. sure. whatever situation I'm in, it depends on me to be happy. something like that. so not only does the onus of happiness lie on you, the guilt of not finding it lies on you too. I used to think happiness is simple - in the old days it was a good warm meal and a good book. Does it mean the same things today? no. I'm a different person with different needs. It's in watching Nino laugh/play/create. And it's in watching him without guilt or without being grateful.

edited to add-
One of my favourite quotes ever is one by Albus Dumbledore, that fantastic, thought-provoking teacher and champion of the brave, who also happens to be gay, and by the way, fictional. Not that it matters when it comes to this kind of wisdom:
'It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'

Just stumbled upon it again, after making the decision to stick to the job instead of opting out. Does it make it any easier? No.