Late summer picnic by the river
It’s not easy being a mother. There are some things I can count on, like the warm swelling feeling in my chest when I sneak into his room at night to listen to him sleep, and the urge to climb in close to him and hold him tight. The need to kiss him and to breathe his sweet smell in. To touch his hair.
I can count on feeling guilty about every tough decision I’ve had to make along the way, and worrying, still, if I’ve made the right ones. I can count on never being quite sure about that. But also, the newer feeling that I’m noticing, of thinking that perhaps he’s turning out pretty good, and that I can allow myself to feel proud, to relax a little and worry less.
I can’t always count on having the support I would like from others around me. And though I may doubt myself at times, I can’t always count on having their trust that, in the end, I will make the right choice and do what is best for Rubin (which obviously includes doing what is best for me too). I would like a little more trust. A little more faith in me.
And then, when I have made a decision–the right one, the best one–I would like to have their support. Not sulking and passive-aggressive displays of childishness. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only adult around here. Alone.
Why does everyone want to make me over, according to their version of what I should be? A dutiful daughter, a loving partner, a reliable friend? What do these things even mean. I am just me. You should know me by now. Understand me. Accept me. The way I am.
When you place these confines on me, I feel constricted, crushed. A little less able to soar. Unable to paint or create, and cut off from my source of happiness. I want to cut loose and be free again. Completely.
This week, I decided to remove the Facebook syndication of my blog. It doesn’t seem appropriate anymore, to flaunt it there, in front of the people that have access to my Facebook profile. They’re not necessarily the ones who would have chosen to read it if they’d stumbled across it on the web.
And I find it a bit creepy when I discover that someone very close to me has been reading it, but not letting on that they’ve been reading it. And that they don’t really like me doing this–writing about deep personal things that matter a lot to me.
Well, you put your stuff out in the public domain, you’ve got to expect that people will read it. But why read and not say anything? Just quietly simmer away about it? I am sorry if I’ve caused them distress, and I don’t want to do that anymore.
You know, Facebook was originally created with fairly sinister intentions. The college boys wanted to ‘rate’ the pretty girls, and share their comments about them. It was to be a book of hot faces, that they could scrawl their lascivious wit all over, only on the web. Hey ho.
Six years later, you’ve got the perfect tool for lurkers and creeps to look in on your life, if you lay it out there for all to see. And I’m less and less inclined to now.
But I’ll still lay it out here, for now. I don’t really have that much to hide.
I’m hurting today. Not about this stuff. But bearing the brunt of a man’s bad mood. Because he doesn’t agree with the decision I’ve made about sending Rubin to school.
We’ve spent the best part of the last year considering what to do about this, and I’ve thought about it for considerably longer. To school or not to school? That is the question. We’ve visited all the alternatives within an unreasonable 25 mile radius. Steiner Schools, Montessori Schools, Small Schools. We’ve met with some local Home Educators, and read up about autonomous education and human scale education, and Summerhill, and Dartington, and Froebel.
I do feel that children start school too early in this country–we have one of the youngest school starting ages in the world. Rubin doesn’t turn 5 until the end of March, and he will by no means be the youngest in his class (some having only just turned 4). Six would be a better age. But, he goes to nursery, and he loves it, and now, as all his friends are going on to ‘big school’, he wants to go too. Desperately wants to go.
The first two years in school are heavily play-based, with very little emphasis on formal learning. At least, that is what I’m led to believe. Though I suspect there is much less freedom for kids to play and explore and choose what they want to do than he is used to having in nursery. Sure, he will have to wear a uniform. Yes, he will have to use formal names with the teachers and staff, instead of the comfortable informality of first names that he is used to at nursery. And if I could happily keep him in nursery for two more years I would.
But he wants to move on, and learn new things, and make new friends. And I feel it would be too cruel to keep him in nursery with kids that will be that much younger than him. It’s natural to want to keep up with your peers.
I have assured Dear Partner that if I feel school is detrimental to him in anyway, that he is not thriving and benefiting from being there, I will reconsider the options. I am not against homeschooling at all, but we are not very sociable people, and he is an only child–he should have a chance to make new friends and broaden his horizons.
So how long will I have to endure the silent treatment at home? I know it might seem inappropriate to you for me to write about this, but I really struggle at times like this to maintain my balance and equilibrium. I’m only asking for some love and support. A little bit of trust. Respect.
At times like this, I do wonder if I’d be better off being on my own. I will never know the answer to that one. Alone, I will always be wishing for someone to share my life with. But in togetherness, I am often wishing for solitude. Unanimity. Space. That is one thing I can count on. That, and my aching, restless heart.
{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m just new to your weblog so forgive me if I’m ignorant of some facts – is your partner Ruben’s father? If he is, either in blood or spirit, I have to disagree with Toni. Two hearts focussed on one child is such a blessing, and the love of one should not be discounted.
He seems to feel so strongly about Ruben not going to school – perhaps the silence is not about controlling but about being hurt, feeling disrespected and not trusted, feeling discounted. I don’t know, and I’m not trying to cast blame one way or the other, only to see all angles. Men generally don’t know how to talk about their feelings, so they “sulk” instead.
I can tell you that being on your own, making all your own decisions about your child, is very hard, very lonely – and the things your man is saying about not sending Ruben to school are things that half your own heart would be saying without someone else there to externalise them. You feel like a rift between the two of you, but imagine that rift within yourself.
But then, I get the sense this is not about one issue. I wish you all the best in working out what is right for your heart, and for your family (which probably IS your heart.)
Sarah,
My partner has been with Rubin and I for almost a year now. Not technically Rubin’s father, but, yes, in spirit and intentions, we are negotiating that path of parenthood together. This in itself is difficult. You are right when you say that two hearts focused on one child is a blessing, and Rubin has benefited a lot from having him around. I don’t want to go back to doing it on my own. It is very hard, very lonely.
I think you are right. He feels hurt, disrespected, discounted. But I think we have been through a long and fair process of consideration on this subject. We are never going to agree on the matter. I guess, what I’m saying is, that as Rubin’s Mother, I expect him to back down and give me the final say on a big decision like this. Even if he thinks I am wrong. That’s a lot to ask of anyone. Fortunately, we are in accord with each other most of the time.
There is a rift within me on this subject, that’s why it has been so hard to make the decision. And I wouldn’t be surprised if at some stage in our lives we pulled out of the mainstream system completely, but right now it doesn’t feel right to do that.
Thanks for your wise words and kindness.
hello Love!!
I’ve been away in the wilds for a week (bliss) and am just getting caught up….
I don’t have much to offer on this….other than my love and support for any and all of your decisions. I know that you’ve wrestled with this schooling thing long and hard and it isn’t a decision you’ve come to lightly – I can see why having that disagreed with would hurt. I do think it’s marvelous that you have a man in your life who is willing to see the alternatives though….i think they’re fairly rare. lol. I’m also of the firm belief that we must trust our children…and if Rubin believes school is right for him, and he wants it so strongly, then it’s good that he has the chance to do so.
I can feel the undercurrent of other things here as well….and have had a week with two women who are very firm in their independence and one of whom is wrangling with the idea of marriage. The ring is on her finger but she isn’t sure what it means..or if she wants to ultimately give up her independence. But she also doesn’t want to be alone. It’s a double-edged sword, i think. It stirred a fair amount of my restlessness though.
But here’s me hijacking again….
love, love, love…xoxoxoxo
Helloooo, Old Girl – I thought you must have been away, as it’s been very quiet at your blog, and no sign of you here. Welcome back to the ordinary. You know, he is a marvellous man, in his cares and concerns, his values, his sensitivites. I’ve been tempted to fire questions at you, as an unschooler, lately. You mentioned the terrible summer you had when you took Savannah out of school, but I never knew any more about it. Well, perhaps we will talk more sometime. But for now, Rubin so much wants to go to school and I don’t feel I can deprive him of that whilst he is keen and excited about going. We will see where the journey takes us.
And as to the subject of Independence… well, you know me well. Too long on my own to be fully trained into a domestic creature, but I’m getting used to it, slowly. It’s odd, really, because given our age difference (me & G), I know that it’s very likely I will spend another large chunk of my life alone, and that knowledge makes me work harder to treasure what I have at the moment. In the moment.
Much love. Glad you’re back.
Oh, love, I just now read this and want to send all the love and support I have to give to you. I am so sorry that you are encountering resistant spirits; such is the way with people who are insecure and scared themselves. It’s unfortunate that the human spirit is so inclined to bring another down in such a harsh way. You’re right: you are who you are, and you should be loved and respected for that. We can’t change anyone except ourselves (and only then when WE decide we want to). It is so very difficult and unfair when others don’t realize that and want you to be someone you’re not.
I cannot say much about Rubin going to school except that it seems as though he REALLY wants to go, so why not? It’s that easy. I am very tempted by the idea of unschooling Luna, but if she decides she wants to give school a try, I will let her know she can stop whenever she wants and unschool instead, and then off she goes. I think what our children want is so important, especially in something like this, otherwise they will always wonder.
Facebook is another situation altogether, isn’t it? I signed up for the first time several months ago, then stopped because many of my “friends” weren’t really my friends. I signed up again recently and have been at peace with it. You make it into what you want, you know. Everyone’s on there for a different reason, and I just hope that none of my friends are taking advantage. How frustrating though that someone you know is making you feel bad about your blog. It’s YOUR blog. You deserve this space, you know. This person doesn’t have to read it. They have made the choice, and so they should be prepared to read something they might not like. Anyway, that is just my sense of it, doesn’t mean I know what I’m talking about at all
.
Much love to you, lovely lady. Do hang in there. Things will work out the way they’re meant to.
J.
Hi Sam,
I have started to write here twice this week, and the words just weren’t coming out right so I left it. I hope to be more successful this time!
I am sorry you are not being supported and that important-to-you people are not showing faith in you. Parenting is HARD and we try to do our very best in the choices we make. We are here to guide these little people in our care and what many people don’t seem to understand is that children very often have strong ideas of their own, which we can take as them guiding us in the choices we do make for them.
Our son, Jac, (Welsh spelling!) , is 17 tomorrow (how did that HAPPEN?) and is a lovely young man who thinks about things. We always gave him the choice of schooling and when he was nearly 11 he decided he wanted to be home-schooled, which we did for the next four years until he was just 15, then he went to college to prepare for and take his GCSE’s. Those four years were amazingly fabulous and we are all so glad that he made that choice. On the down side, he went to college because we did not have the confidence to take him all the way to his exams and now we all wish we had tried it. That is life though hey? All our choices have results. Some we think work out really well, some we wish we had not made, but both give us our learning experiences.
I am hoping this gets easier for you. You sound strong and Rubin (love his name) is a very lucky boy to have a mama who listens to him.
I hope you can make sense of what I am trying to say, but in the main, I am showing you my support as a mother of a ‘knows his own mind’ boy.
Blessed be.
H x
Huni, I know you have had many a restless night over this one, but I think there is one thing that you and G are forgetting. You have as much involvement with your childs schooling in a main stream school as you want to. As you know I have a child of 8 and one of 5 who finnished reception in July of this year. If you want to set up a 10min catch up with his teacher on learning, social development, how he is interacting etc etc, you can. If you wanted to see the teacher every day, you can. I found the most fantastic way to stay connected with my two kids at school, both emotionally and with their learning was two volunteer.
I did one morning in one class and one in the other. The school loved it because it’s free help for them, my kids loved it because mummy was seeing them with their hand up, doing their best at their learning, or simply playing with their friends in the playground. But most importantly of all I built a rapor with their teachers. If there was any kind of incident, worry about learning, suggestion of how to help at home, achievement or general observation, they would naturally bring it up in conversation. I have never felt so in touch with how my kids are feeling at school and getting on with their teachers and peers alike.
I think the interaction Ruben will have with his peers will far outway any negatives about school. You and G are more than capable to support and guide him within that environment, rather than potentially cutting him off from the outside world. Get involved hun, make sure the teachers know who you are, and who Ruben is. Get to know the other kids by helping out, you wont regret it. Ring me or pop over if you would like some face to face time sweetie. xx
Thank you so much, Hun. Actually, I’ve been thinking about doing just that–getting involved at the school. I look forward to chatting more soon, face to face. Hope you’re not too stressed about the exhibition this week (can’t wait to see your stuff up on display!).
Much love.