For Father's Day this year I decided to give Matthew a secret gift. I promised myself that I wouldn't say anything to him that would sound critical for the entire day. Even if I felt that the family would be in peril if I didn't correct the way he loads the dishwasher, I swore that would not say a thing. I thought that it would be no big deal but I found myself biting my tongue about every five minutes. I couldn't believe it. I had no idea that I was that bad. He does complain that I am very critical, and I know that I can be but it seems I am not just critical but that I am an f-ing b*tch.
It's an inherited tic. I come from two families where criticism and put-downs are ingrained in the natural speech pattern. Take-You-Down-A-Notch is the favorite family pastime, like the Kennedys and their touch football. I don't know if it's an Irish-American thing but there was rarely praise doled out that wasn't laced with a little ridicule lest you get a big head. As a result I am aware that I tend to point out the things that I think are wrong a little more frequently than the things that I think are right. Add to that a serious case of control-freakism that is in flare-up mode due to stress and voila! You've got yourself a raving harpy. The thing that is so upsetting though is how hard it is for me to control. While I was able to get through the day it took serious effort. It was nice that the world did not end when Matthew was deprived of my sage and worthy advice for one day. No one was maimed, the dishes got just as clean. But I still feel the urge to train him to do things my way and I still lash out at him when he resists. And I still do this about every five minutes. This makes me so sad because I don't want to be that way with him and I don't want to be that way with Lowell. I want to be more generous and empathetic and kind. I want to stop feeling like my family's survival depends on my constant vigilance. This is a really high-stress time obviously, I don't want to be even harder on myself, but I really wish I could change this one thing about my personality.
If I decided not to criticize for 24 hours, someone would eventually check my head for lobotomy scars. You and I must be related somehow.
Posted by: wordgirl | June 21, 2006 at 06:05 PM
Words of wisdom from the 'shrink' in the family: "Awareness is the first and most important hurdle to overcome in the battle against the internal critic".
You have got over that one, now the change you wish for is possible.
Posted by: uncle phil | June 22, 2006 at 02:17 AM
But Grasshopper is weak, Uncle Phil! ;) Thanks for the support.
Posted by: LetterB | June 22, 2006 at 07:35 PM
did the dishes really get just as clean?
Posted by: kara | June 22, 2006 at 09:44 PM
So the dishwasher thing is genetics!!!!!!!! Son of a Bitch....Let Matthew know that he is not so alone is his world of "no, that is not how you do it". But here is a little secret... when Kara is not around, I put glasses where the dishes go....pots where the glasses should go and if I am feeling a little crazy I even put dirty spatulas in the dishwasher (insert maniacal laugh here)(but Kara is right, they don't get as clean)
Now are you also afflicted by the refrigerator dressing/condiment disorder as well? My diagnosis it is a deep seated desire for segregation (perhaps from your days in Cincinnati?) and it is transferred onto innocent refrigerator contents... me I say let Ketchup live in the Milk Holder if it wants...let Orange Juice and Newman's Balsamic Vinaigrette live side by side in harmony. Not many people know this, but John and Yoko suffered through similar troubles. This is where John came up with one of his most Famous Songs "Imagine"... You may say that’s for creamers, but your the only one (who says so), I hope someday you will get off my back, and well get along.
Just a few word changes…and whalla.
Imagine
Posted by: crazyunclekev | June 23, 2006 at 09:33 AM
Kev, that's pretty funny because I was planning to clean out and reorganize the fridge today. It's all catawumpus in there and it's been driving me crazy. (i know, all you are saying is give peas a chance). And I'm not going to let you bait me with that spatula in the dishwasher remark.
Posted by: LetterB | June 23, 2006 at 01:57 PM
mmmm, catawumpus. vocab word of the day.
I do hope you are able to free yourself a bit from vigilance. I imagine it takes a lot of internal fortitude to bite one's tongue on a daily basis, though.
Posted by: supa | June 26, 2006 at 04:03 PM
You've got a blog,eh ? I found it. Remember the old days, Clip the Daisies,Madison, S.F.,? Time flies, reproduction happens, now you're a mom. Love Lowell, he is a blessing. Hold back the tongue of Irish fury.
Posted by: ArronC | June 27, 2006 at 01:14 AM
Hey Arron! Thanks for saying hi.
Posted by: LetterB | June 29, 2006 at 09:22 AM