Monday, March 17, 2014

A Daughter Just Like Me?

„When you grow up I hope you have a daughter just like you!“

Boy did they ever get that wrong.

A daughter just like you, you would understand!

The way I see it, a daughter like me got good grades, pretty much ran the school, did the school work and home work herself, managed her own schedule, could drive herself places at 16 (something Qld really needs to think about) and got herself into university and veterinary school without any help.  

Let me be the first to say my mother might have more to say on the subject.  Write your own blog, Meka!

Really. In first grade they placed me in the hallway by myself during reading groups and I read the highschool textbook alone. It was heaven. I figured out my own freshman year schedule when the guidance counsellor left me in the room by myself for a few minutes. And I just ignored the uni rules and wrote my own schedule there too, taking on extra courses without asking for permission.

I pretty much took control early on.

Mostly because I didn't trust anyone else to do it properly.

I spent much of my childhood watching and listening to everyone else muck it up and my mother just quietly accepting and leaving it alone. This drove me crazy even as a little kid. Couldn't you see that these adults were mucking up simple things and why wouldn't you speak up and do something about it?

By now I am realising it might be about acceptance. Relinquishing control.

Giving up really.

But I think it is also because stuff like that just didn't – and still doesn't – bother my mother. This is because my mother is a lot like my daughter. And my daughter is like my husband. Who is, as much as they will all hate this, a lot like my mother.

Ryan even has Meka's handwriting! It is unbelievable.

I spend most of my time envying these people their lack of concern and some of the time hating them for leaving it all up to people like me to sort it for them. Although, since Bobbi thanked me for the work I had done at Lawnton that now benefits her daughter, I feel better. I know not everyone can stand up for themselves. It's just nice to know they ARE standing behind me!

Because, when it comes right down to it, the people who pay up in the end are the people who care the most. We are the people who get things done.

Just once I wish I could be the serene one: the one who knows someone else will get it done for her.

Om mani padme om. Be the lotus.

But that isn't me. That is Ryan.

And most of the time I am doing just fine with it. I accept my daughter for who she is. And I am learning when to take a stand and when to leave it alone; how and when to use my talents for good rather than let them lead me into evil. It's all very Tao. Or Spiderman.

Other days I have a wish for Ryan: when you grow up and have a daughter, I hope that she is JUST LIKE ME!  (Right, Meka?!)

Go ahead: try and be a lotus when you've got a duckling like me paddling around in the shit!

Om mani padme om!

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