Monday, July 20, 2009

You can't make me!

I’m starting to identify more and more with my children’s short tempers and periodic tantrums, to comprehend how something seemingly small can send them into a major hissy fit. How the third, “you have to wear the shoes, not the sandals” can sound just like fingernails on the chalkboard.

It sucks to be told what to do all the time. It’s frustrating to not be in control. It’s annoying to always have to follow the rules, to not be the one to decide what you’ll eat for lunch or dinner, and to have time limits put on how much time you can do things you want to do. And these feelings of inequality and impotence compound.

One question I clearly remember from the 93 that make up the Myers Briggs Personality Type test is, “Would you choose to be a child or an adult?” Are you kidding me? An adult! I want to be an adult. I want to control my own life, make my own mistakes, create my own fun. A child again? No, no thank you.

I’m sure there are people who feel the opposite, but I just don’t see it. Childhood is what you endure (yes, often happily) to get to the rest of your life, to the good part, to the part where you can eat what you want, drink what you want, do what you want, and be who you want.

I feel like a child in this hospital, and I’m damn sick of it. It won’t be long until I’m throwing the same fits my 5 year old does. I’m already crying as often as she does.

Because having to eat food that you don’t feel like eating just because that’s what’s being served gets old, so does not being able to take off and go somewhere by yourself, and having to live according to someone else’s timetable. Even worse is having someone else tell you what’s best for your own body, it’s perhaps the definition of subordination.

I’m sure my current episode of identifying with my kids’ dependency will last about as long as it takes to drive home from the hospital, but for this moment in time, I’m feeling their angst.


Me, You, or Ellie said...

Good stuff, Beth. I mean, not being stuck in a child's situation, but your articulate expression of said situation.

When is that baby girl coming out, anyway?

If you *do* throw a tantrum, make it a good one. Involving that food you don't feel like eating, and the person who delivers it. Talk about good blog fodder!

Hang in there,

Anonymous said...

Ya, but you've tasted the sweet, sweet high of freedom and independance and then have had it curtailed. Kids actually like knowing that someone else is in charge and making the big decisions and keeping them safe. To a tiny person, the world is big and loud and scary and they need a big person to help them navigate it. One of the joys of childhood is testing those boundaries with a safety net and feeling grown up and special as you are given more and more freedom.

But since you're already a big person, can't you get food delivered -- stuff you like? We can do that in hospitals here.

Me, You, or Ellie said...

You know, it would be pretty funny if you decoded to start carrying on like a grumpy 5 year old. When the nurse comes to take your temp, slam your lips closed and refuse to open wide; slap away the hand that wants to flush your IV; complain loudly that you are boooored; tell anyone who gives you bad news that they are not invited to your birthday party... I think maybe they'd suddenly decide it would be best if you just went home!

Almost time to start counting down...


Hsin-Yi said...

Stay strong, you'll be out soon. And then you'll be so busy with the baby that the hospital stay will seem like a vacation =)

Me, You, or Ellie said...

I love your advice, Jacquie. I really should un-invite all these people to my birthday party.

I refused the IV yesterday, so have had almost one full day without something poking into my vein. It's glorious. They don't like it one bit, but sometimes grumpy 5 year olds do get their way :-)

And if this ever seems like a vacation, it means I'm someplace really cterrible, like in hell.


back from the beach said...

thanks for the laugh Beth! both on the blog entry and the comments. I needed a lighthearted lift after reading the caringbridge site for Dave sad.
hang in there.
ask T to videotape your pouting the way I have wanted to tape my own children pouting so I can show them how silly they look :)

Trannyhead said...

Argh! Hospitals are the WORST. Hang in there.

johanna said...

Kendra and I are on our way with a fab Thai dinner...hang in their girlfriend!