Friday, November 7, 2008

I hate to admit it...

...But at some point in this blog I will.

Had to do some uncomfortable stuff last night with my family. My brother is just not cutting the mustard when it comes to school.

It sucks to be older and have “understanding”... I’m not a parent, but I do find myself saying those parent things (My brother is 15 years younger than me. I was 18 and out of the house so fast, my mom basically raised 2 only children) and it makes me sick to my stomach.

You know, you just want the best for someone. People are handed some bad hands, but not him. He is very smart, charismatic, good looking, and overall a GOOD BOY. Plus, my parents have given him everything. A cell phone, games, big screen TV’s, freedom to leave the house and go with friends, everything. And through my blinding jealousy, I can see he’s being given every opportunity in the world to go and do and be anything he wants to. But he doesn’t get it.

But sometimes when everything is handed to you, you never have that burning desire inside of you to WORK, to EARN, to BE more. You don’t have anything to prove.

Thats why my brother and I are different. I’m the opposite of that. I worked... I wanted... I worried... I wanted to rub in everyone’s face that I was good enough. So even on foggy day schedule, I went to school on time. I took advanced classes. I didn’t need to study, but I did anyways. I died inside bringing home a B... Did you read my blog before last? I’m 30 and still trying to prove something. Fuck, I don’t know.

So yeah... I really want to be the cool sister, ya know? I want to be the person to him that I prayed for every night when I was his age. The friend, the confidant, the savior... (WOW, Ok, I’ve really given myself a god complex here...) I think somewhere in all this though, I blurred the lines. And I made this all about me. I was fighting for me. And he’s not me. I didn’t have a cell phone, or cable TV, or freedom. We lived in the country 5 miles from anyone. What we had was basically a farm. Marisa was out back cutting firewood, and pruning trees, and digging fence post holes, and pulling weeds, and pouring cement, and laying tile, and taking down wallpaper, and painting. She was 15, just recovering from a broken leg and arm, going to school full time, getting straight A’s with a baby (my brother) on her hip. She was cleaning the house and changing diapers and hauling bricks and moving furniture (mom liked to rearrange her full wall length oak china cabinets and entertainment centers weekly :| ) and WORKING. Always working. We had a tractor. I had a tool belt and a pick ax. We had our own cement mixer. This was 2 acres of pavement, pasture, and trees. Over 200 trees that mom wanted raked every day. I mean WORK WORK!

(Please note: Right now I’m not complaining. Those things made me who I am and I’m thankful for that. I was bitter before, but I realize those things made me strong. They made me driven. They made me CAPABLE of anything I put my mind to.)(I would also like to clarify I had a good childhood. I was safe. My parents loved me (A bit too strictly, but...) And we had a good life. We played outside. I had a pony. We had a houseboat and speedboat and motorhome. We travelled and were well taken care of... SO no complaining.)

Moments like this just really remind me why I don’t want kids. I can’t handle it. It’s so serious. It’s their life, their future. And my heart melted when that baby boy and I went outside to talk without mom and dad and he hugged me and he cried. OMG... I just want him to succeed. To be better than me. To take all the opportunities that he has (that I didn’t) and use the system to his advantage!!

But there is a plea here for REALITY. You have to get good grades. You have to work hard. You have to earn trust and respect.

1 comments:

justme November 11, 2008 at 9:44 AM  

Not that I in any way want to try and change your mind, because being a parent IS.SO.SCARY, in so many ways, and my son is only young, and there are SO many more challenges on the way, but for all the *sad* times that tear apart your heart, there are SO many amazing, inspirational, happy, sweet things that happen that make your heart and soul *explode* with a love that compares to no other. The love for your child, a creation made form YOU, is beyond any love you can ever feel for any other person on this earth (at least in my experience).

To back up your stance, I am sure that the hurt and pain that can be caused by your child is equally unlike any other hurt that could be imposed upon you by any other person on this Earth but, ultimately I feel, for me anyway, that the risk is well worth the reward.

For now, anyway, (hehehe) maybe ask me again in 12 years when I have a teenager on my hands ;0)

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