A Wise Geezer Once Said...

'It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'

Anyone know what great brain said the above?

Yep. Albus Dumbledore. A truly excellent man. Shame about the 'not being a real person' bit.

JK Rowling gives a lot of good advice via ole Albus. Sure, they're great stories with great characters, but she sneaks these bits of wisdom in without us really noticing until later. And I like that.

But I think it's worth giving that quote from Albus a chew every once in a while, just to make sure it's front of mind. And believe me, it's so easy for a whole load of the daily shite to get in the way, and block out the important things.

The choices our parents make for us when we're too young to know better are one of main things that determine if we're fuck-ups in our lives, or end up decent people. And if your parents make half-decent choices for you, and teach you how to do the same, then you're in pretty good shape. At least until you go off into the world where you can do what you damned well please without them harping at you about stuff from dawn to dusk.

My parents did a pretty good job, especially considering that they were practically CHILDREN when they became parents. And they each had their issues, which, alongside all the good stuff they taught me and my brother (i.e. Don't litter. Don't be a jerk. Clean up after yourself. Don't hit. Tell the truth. Apologize. Say please and thank you. Be nice, etc.), we also absorbed. And it's really an eye-opener of a day when you suddenly realize that you do stuff, or act a certain way, or think about things in a particular light, because you subconsciously learned how to mimic your parents along with all the shit they inherited from their parents.

But I think I need to start taking a good look at the choices I make, rather than question my abilities. And that means abilities across the board - as a parent, a spouse, an employee, etc. I'm VERY able and I do what I do well (most of the time). But it's the choices that are under fire here.

I have a really short fuse when it comes to my youngest. She's amazing -- smart, funny, cute. But boy is she a pain in the arse. And she's a typical four-year-old kid. Her attention span is great if she's doing something she likes; not so great if she's uninterested in the activity at hand. She faffs around with eating her meals. You've got to ask her to put her jacket on about seven times before you can walk out the door (this is especially effective when I'm trying to get her to school and me to the train on time every morning). So I shout. LOUDLY. And I hate it.

But it occurred to me tonight that I'm establishing the dynamic of our future relationship here. She acts out, I shout, she cries, I get stressed out, and we all end up feeling rotten. And none of it changes the fact that it still took 15 minutes for her to take her socks off.

So -- choices, not abilities. I need to choose to change how I interact with my kids. With my husband. Friends, mom, brother, sister-in-law, job. I've never been a good chooser. I've gotten a few choices right (hiya, Boss). But generally speaking, up until about ten years ago, I've been a bit of an ass when it comes to making good choices. I think my mom and dad tried to help me when I was younger, but I also know that they had their own issues and lives and thoughts to sort out.

I'm also very aware that I'm genetically programmed to make shitty choices. I've unlearned a lot of this behaviour (thanks, Valerie Brucker -- I miss you). And I know my nuclear family has done some good unlearning, too. See? It's never too late to think about choices.

I have a lot of abilities - I can do a TON of stuff. But it's the choices that I've made across almost my whole life, in conjunction with my abilities, that have come up a bit flat. It's almost as if by the time you reach your 40s, you've got a good enough idea about how it all works to actually be ready to be out there in the world. You Get It. It Makes Sense. You've Got A Grip On Things.

The sad part is, there's no do-overs. Not a one. The best you get is a clean slate.

It's not about a mid-life crisis (I had mine at about 28 years old, I reckon). It's about understanding how to make choices that turn you into the person that you want to be -- now, tomorrow, next week. And hopefully, those choices will allow a bit of retro-fitting, so you can try to see your former self as the person you wanted to be, too.

My husband and I were just talking about sticker charts - you know the ones? Where your kid gets a sticker if they [fill in the blank] for a whole day/week. When they get a week's worth of stickers, they get a [fill in the blank with treat/item/event]. So we were talking about creating a sticker chart for the youngest, to see if we can get her to try to not be so utterly bonkers.

I think the person who needs the sticker chart is me.

The Carrot

I'm stuck in the middle of things, I think.

A very wise person I know told me that my problem is that I don't have a carrot. We all need a carrot. And after doing some thinking, I've realized that this person is correct; I have no carrot.

There's got to always be something that's going to be the motivator, the enticer, the THING that keeps you moving forward.

And yes. I know that I have a lot of things in my life that are keeping me moving forward. I love my family, I love what we do together, and what we are together. That's not really the sort of carrot I mean. The family, and who we are together, and what I am as a part of this family, is a wonderful thing, and I'm thankful for my family every day. (For the record, they also drive me bloody crazy, and I could spend an entire week telling you about all the things that they do that I wish they wouldn't. So please don't think that I'm saying 'I'm thankful' and divorcing myself from reality here).

But I think that what I've noticed, after a bit of introspection, is that there IS no carrot.

In earlier years and times, there were plenty of carrots, in various incarnations, shapes, types. It was a job, or a guy, or a location, or it was finishing my BA after being a dropout for a decade, or completing my MA despite my dad dying in the middle of the program, or planning the wedding, or being pregnant, or doing up the house, or whatever.

And now, when I've looked around, I'm not in higher education, I'm not planning on popping out any more kids, the house is pretty much done, we've been married almost nine years, and the job is pretty much just some place I go every day for 7 hours, and they pay me.

So what's the carrot? You see? I haven't got one. And boy, it's a noticeable absence, suddenly, when I've finally noticed it.

Sure. I dabble in small things: crochet, bread baking (may have finally cracked this one), knitting, Pilates, yoga, etc. But there's no big thing to pique my interest, get me ramped up, make me talk incessantly about a topic the way you do when you've Suddenly Discovered Something. I get up, I go to work, I come home, some nights I exercise, most nights as a team we put the kids to bed, and then we sort of sit around. Occasionally he'll go to the pub. And I'm fine with that. Better for him to go out instead of sit at home while I crochet, or read another vintage murder mystery by Margery Allingham. It's not his fault I'm bored with who I've become.

But I've got to become unbored. If I live to be 90, say, then I'm at the 50% mark right now, and closing. I've got a good amount of time left here, and it's probably a pretty good idea for me to figure out what the hell it is that I want to do, and what I want to learn/become/figure out/create. He deserves something better than the lack-luster, hobo-chic person that I've become.

Vegetables are supposed to be good for you. I need a carrot.