The "Forked up" Life

I have been watching The Good Place for a few days now. And I also watched a movie titled The Nest two days ago. Normally, I wouldn't have made a connection between the two. These days, however, I am in a strange frame of mind. I am questioning everything I believed about myself. My biggest worry is if I am indeed the good mother that everybody seems to believe I am. I am beginning to think that ASid is just pure luck and Hans is an intrinsic challenge.

I got lucky with the former and can't seem to rise to the challenge with the latter. So, what is Momley all about?! I do not know at this point in time.

This is the Thanksgiving long weekend. This is almost always when I take the time to reflect on my life. Recently, it feels like my life has been served to me on the proverbial silver platter and somehow I am not appreciating it enough. It is, as if, I want to be some tragic figure and feel burdened by it all. That's why the title of this post is so apt.

My mom has this saying where someone gets a plate of food ready and just before serving it, they spit on it. The conclusion is why bother preparing a feast when you won't let people enjoy it! In my case, I feel like I am spitting on and destroying what life is offering.

I want the boys to know that it is OK to feel a little down some days. Just not to let the feeling weigh them down forever. I know why I started writing this blog. It is supposed to be a place the boys could visit and hear Momley's voice. It is supposed to be a stand-in for me long after I am gone. I thought I was writing for them. However, I got a note from KPF a few days ago and this is what he had to say about this blog:

Good way to keep a journal, to remember and I suppose a sort of meditation and therapy.

I never looked at it that way. I have called this my safe space where I can say anything and there is no one to judge me. Then I opened it up for a few select family members and friends who drop by here to get an update on the boys. I guess somewhere on the way I have been writing to express myself. And it has been therapeutic!

I decided to investigate why anyone would make a movie like The Nest since it got me thinking about my own life. Turns out the man who wrote and directed the movie, Sean Durkin, a Canadian, had this to say about his work, "When I make a film, I think about things that scare me. My exploration of those things is to try and wrap my head around them and confront them." Strangely, I know what he means.

Yesterday, we had our annual Thanksgiving lunch hosted by Bambino and my sister-in-law. When a family can gather for a meal and sit around a table and share some feelings, it puts things in perspective.  Life is not so forked up!

Yet another First Day

I posted precisely three times about "First Days" in the past. Those were the days when I felt mixed emotions - joy and sorrow, both at once. Eventually, they became more of a joyful celebration than the Shakespearean "sweet sorrow".

Two days ago was the first time I was in a physical school building to participate in the welcoming of students back to school. I was very excited. No, I do not have a classroom of my own. I am back to supply teaching. I was just needed at this particular school since a teacher had a family emergency and couldn't make it for the first day of the new school year. I didn't know what to expect. However, I was pleasantly surprised when they partnered me up with another teacher to teach a virtual classroom. It turned out to be a lucky placement on more than one level.

The Zoom meeting the teacher setup couldn't be accessed by me as she forgot to include the passcode. She didn't know what it was and just went into panic mode as students would also experience the same challenge as I did. With 4 minutes to spare, we quickly set up another Zoom meeting and sent out new meeting info to the students.

It felt good to be troubleshooting with another teacher. We also figured out other technical aspects while we were at it. She was thankful I was there and I was grateful for the experience. I realized that that was what was missing last school year when I was alone with my device. I couldn't talk with another teacher and there was no sense of "we can do this together!".

I may not have a classroom of my own; however, I am happy to help wherever I can. I am also hoping in-person school is here to stay forever.

Level 8000

I reached level 4000 in Candy Crush Saga on August 6, 2019. I reached level 8000 on August 18, 2021. That's 4000 levels in about 700 odd days. That works out to about 5 to 6 levels per day. That's not too bad since this is the only game I play and it does alleviate my stress some days.

I am still sane. I am just sharing this as some sort of a strange successful achievement. My brother sent a message on the occasion, and here it is - What's happening here?!!! Is this the beginning of the book "Devolution of One Mrs. Momley - Tales of Life and Tribulations as told through the Eye of Former High Functioning OCD Individual".

I believe that he may be alluding to the fact that my home is literally falling apart while I merrily climb levels in Candy Crush Saga. Yes! I used to be "obsessive compulsive" about the environment I lived in and I haven't been that way in the last dozen or so years. However, I believe I can get back there again!

For the last few weeks, since the beginning of July, my home has been covered partially or fully in plastic. We got our windows replaced and that has been a work in progress. As I prepared to have this work done, I also became acutely aware of the mess I live in. So, I am on a mission to clean it up and get back to "normal".

Meanwhile, there is no harm in feeling like I accomplished something even if it is not in a real world sense! On a related and unrelated note, ASid is 20 today. He has accomplished a lot, in the real world, in the last 2 years; however, I will save that for another post.

The Next Inspiration

I have been watching way too many movies and series on various streaming services. Recently, I discovered this one best-selling writer whose books are being adapted for television. In fact, this writer has a multi show deal with a particular streaming service. At this point in time, I have watched 3 shows created by this writer. They all seem to follow a certain pattern and what kept me going was obviously the whodunit mystery in the centre of each of these shows.

Then, I switched it up a bit by watching an unrelated series - Picard. I immediately noticed a difference. Picard not only draws from its own venerable history, it also alludes to classic books and writers. It is that kind of series which may result in the audience going off on various quests to investigate other literary works. I was definitely inspired to look up "Tragic Sense of Life".

It is not like the other best-selling writer's shows didn't motivate me to read a book. They did; however, I merely wanted to find out how this writer is churning out these books that are so popular with the masses! That seems to be the trend - book to screen - even more so than ever before!

I am both inspired and intimidated. The proverbial blank screen has been waiting patiently. There are days I feel like time is running out, and yet, I know there is all the time in the world. With this mix of excitement and uncertainty, I assure myself that my time will come.

Taking stock of life

There was a time I would write the word “life” with an uppercase L … like it is a proper noun. These days, I look at my life or any other life as just one of many lives. It could be a side effect of teaching about population growth in grade 8 Geography! However, each life is unique, and shaped by the circumstances we are thrown into and by the choices we make.

My life has been defined by the circumstance I found myself in as a wife and the choices I made as a mother of my sons. I could dissect my life and lament about the unfortunate circumstance or celebrate the consequences of my choices. As always, I choose the positive of the two options.

Tomorrow, the work on my windows will commence. They were supposed to have been replaced last October. I postponed them to until after my teaching commitment. So, I had about a week’s respite which was spent in catching up with friends and family, and prepping my home for the big switch. It was a lot of fun and a lot of labour respectively.

ASid unexpectedly dropped by on Sunday, July 4^th, to help clean up. As soon as he walked in, he thanked me for the 18-19 years of his life. He mentioned how I have to deal with periods (yes, he did!) on a monthly basis, and how the world is probably sexist, and how I get very little recognition for everything I do.

It was quite the dramatic entrance and filled my heart with warmth and fueled me with much needed energy to complete the task at hand.

We worked over 2 days, and felt like we prepped the house for the window replacement project rather adequately. To be fair and honest, I also hired a handyman to add some finishing touches. This morning, our home was inspected and deemed ready for tomorrow’s work.

ASid is back with Mary. I remember writing about how I was devastated when ASid chose to stay with Mary when we had our first lockdown. It was probably a tough choice for ASid to make as well. I never asked him about his feelings. However, I am glad I felt the way I did only momentarily. ASid will be 20 next month, but he has matured immensely in the last few months - way beyond his chronological age.

I’d like to believe that my choices played a bit of a role in the fine young man he has become. I would also like to credit the many lives that have contributed to his life.

The vicious cycle of Privilege

Long time ago, perhaps in 2003 or 2004, my English professor at OISE/UT shared a perspective on how children gain or lose their interest in language learning, and in literacy. She asked us to imagine 2 children at their breakfast tables. Both these children are eating cereal and their eyes are drawn to the picture of a submarine on the cereal box. They both ask their parents the same question, "what's that?". One parent responds with "shut up and eat your cereal!" and the other goes into an elaborate explanation that ends in the Beatles' song about a yellow submarine. The inference from the telling of this tale is that one of the children was given the opportunity to learn and grow, whereas the other child's learning was cut short before it began!

For the longest time, I understood this story as a failure or a success of a parent in terms of starting their children off right! Now, my perspective has changed.

What if the first parent was a single parent who is struggling to pay bills, and has to be at his/her job in the next few minutes before dropping off the child at a daycare on the way to work? This parent's mind is so preoccupied with how to survive on a daily basis that there is no energy to have a leisurely conversation with his/her child! On the other hand, the second parent is perhaps in a privileged position to stay at home or work from home. S/he has the time to have those conversations with his/her child.

Do we continue to blame the parents or do we shift the focus to the privilege that some of us enjoy?

When I made the decision of being a stay at home parent, I didn't think of privilege - I just saw it as a choice. However, with all the recent knowledge I have gained, I would have to say that having the ability to make a choice is a bigtime privilege. And yet not all privileges are the same. My choice placed some stress on Craigley in terms of carrying the burden of all the bill payments including mortgage. We had to think twice about going on family vacations. Even road trips decreased the available balance in the line of credit. There was guilt on one side and resentment on the other.

Would I make different choices if I was given the opportunity to go back in time? Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on perspective, I would make the same decisions.

A few weeks ago, ASid told me that he missed me the most in the last 5 months of his Grade 12 school year. He enjoyed talking to his mother in the mornings, over breakfast, before he was off to school. The mornings, during those 5 months, his mother was rushing out to do her job as a supply teacher. I was not available to him. ASid was not complaining, he was simply sharing his feelings. He also told me that I am a good mother and he is thankful. He has heard a few horror stories about other parents from other students at university!

Are the parents truly horrible or are they themselves victims of their horrible circumstances? We have to look at it one parent at a time and one situation at a time.

The shots we take!

I have been so busy with my job that I haven't been doing some of the things I enjoy doing in my life. One of them is writing regularly for this blog - my "legacy" for my 2 boys. It feels like I am robbing them of some of my personal time that belongs to them and giving it away to other peoples' children.

So much has happened, and I don't even know where to begin. Hans is 13 now, and for the first time, I have 2 teenagers. This will last about 3 months and then ASid will turn 20. It seems like such a big number. They are growing up so quickly.

Although I haven't been as available to my family members as before, I was lucky enough to have been there as they received their first doses of the vaccine. On Good Friday, I accompanied my parents as their age group became eligible. For some reason, it made my mom very happy to have me there. 2 weeks ago, Craigley and I got vaccinated. Last weekend, I went with ASid and 2 days ago, I was with Hans as both of them also became eligible with the 18+ and 12+ age groups respectively. It made me happy and I understood my mom's feelings then. 

There are times it matters that people we love are there with us - maybe it is to do with the realization that life is fragile and that the world could literally turn upside down at a moment's notice.

With my parents, I had the shortest waiting time. With Hans, I had the longest waiting time - we spent nearly 2 hours together. As we stood in line waiting, chaos ensued twice and people cut us off both those times. Part of me wanted to protest, but I stayed calm and let it go. I felt like perhaps I wasn't being a good role model to my child. I didn't stand up for myself, for us, and for what was right. I actually mentioned it to him and he didn't particularly mind my non-confrontational attitude. We both talked about how people are frustrated in general and some of them were coming from work, and they probably are too tired and would like to go home sooner than later. Still, Hans did reiterate that it doesn't make it right for people to cut people off. I agreed with him. 

It was my choice to let it go, but it was their choice to plant themselves where they didn't belong and give themselves an unfair advantage.

Hans and I were at the beginning of our 5:10 pm line up and we ended up 7th or 8th after 2 chaotic disruptions. There was another mother with 2 children waiting in line with us. She stood up to the buttinskis and ensured she got her original position in the queue back. She was also kind enough to send one of her children to persuade me to take our spot ahead of them. I politely declined. However, I pointed that out to Hans. 

My choice wasn't the only option available to him; he could take inspiration from this other mother!

Later, we ran into this mom with her 2 children again. I wanted to say something nice to her and thank her. All I could mumble, as words were lost to me, was "good that you have some fire in you"! She responded with, "it is good to be assertive sometimes". That's when I realized that I need to get back to writing and making sense. I have spent far too much time with kids who use afk, brb, ty and say "stop the cap" and other random phrases in the chat, to pause and have actual conversations irl. 

I search for real words in my head now and can't seem to find them anymore.

I took a chance with this job. It will end in a month's time. I have lost a lot and gained a lot. My vision has dwindled away and I have packed on a few pounds. I have probably lost the opportunity to prep Hans for Grade 8 while I was helping Grade 8 students get through this school year. Personal losses … Professional gains. Hans may have a bit of an academic setback as he starts Grade 8 in September, but he will have a mother who can help him get through the next school year.

Hans can be a super star if he wants to be.

We can't always be sure of the shots we take; however, I hope the shots we all got, starting on Good Friday, will get us back on track with life as we remember it.