12 jan 2005
Growing Up
by Nanci Olesen
My children have such eagerness
for every day. What is it they want? How
am I doing as their mom, as they leap through
their childhoods? I have been thinking
about them this week.
I'm away from the
whole family for five days. It's delicious
to wake up and not have the needs of the children
in my brain. It's a strange adjustment
to wake up and fix my breakfast and make
a
plan for the day as a writer.
This week I'm not a waitress and a mother
and a housekeeper and a wife and a
marketer of my own little business and
a neighbor and a friend. I'm in
my jammies. I'm a writer and a breakfast
eater and a snow watcher.
But from
this distant place I can feel my children's
hearts beating eagerly. Each of them
is working on a project of some sort: one
is presenting a storyboard about Paul Wellstone's
life. One is rehearsing a Marx Brothers
play, and as the only freshman in
the cast, is shyly trying to find his way.
One is following her dad to the big
theatre where he works, where she is going
to play a character in their next
play. There are issues of fairness between
them. How come one of them gets to
be in Dad's play? We patiently explained
that she was the right person for
the role. That that is the way that theatre
(and life) work: different people are chosen
to do different things
at different times. My husband and
I are bending over backwards to help everyone
feel that one kid is not more SPECIAL
than the other. It's just that this
daughter is the right character for
this play.
Each night when I say goodnight
to them, I try to listen to what they
need and are thinking. With the
oldest, I try to back off. I've made blunders
in the last few months. I've asked
too many questions about a date
he went on. I've quizzed him about his
homework to the point that I know I've
gone too far. I'm trying so hard to
be casual as he grows up faster than
I can imagine. When I see a tear in
his eyes I try to be there and yet not,
to wait to see what he needs. Does he
need to be alone? Does he need to talk
about it? He rides the city bus. I
can't go with him. He rides the city bus
alone.
The daughter in her dad's
show is gregarious and strong. She
clings to me some nights and
asks me lots of questions about our schedules
and when we are going to do all
the things we say we're going to do. I
try to answer honestly. Yes, this weekend
we will set up the sewing machine and cut
out your pattern. No, we can't
go to Chicago in January. I want so much
to be honest about what is happening.
My own schedule, of work and commitments,
needs constant attention. I try to
not respond anxiously. I try to pay attention.
The daughter working on the Wellstone report
is also in need of reassurance and patience.
I try to help her set her goals so that she can
get her report done and not be caught
at the end of the evening, with too
much to do, staying up late or feeling
anxious. I know so well how that cycle
goes. I do it myself ALL THE TIME.
So we talk, and I try not instruct.
She'll learn if she does it herself.
So this week I can think
about them from far away. I can take
the time needed to evaluate
my own schedule and commitments.
I can stretch a little.
Then I'll go
back, where I belong, as their mom. Their eagerness
will swallow me up.I will need to constantly
remind myself to listen, to pay attention,
to be patient, and to step back.
—Nanci Olesen
producer and host, MOMbo: 1990-2007 |
