The first toy that he can pretend to shoot you with.  That isn’t a water gun.

We’ve just had our first reported “<insert kid name> says she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore, Mummy.”  And I said that silly thing, “oh, but you have lots of other friends, Oliver”.  Just dismissed it. After all, he’s only 4.  After all, she’s kind of a bad influence on him (not in a smoking outside the shed kind of way or anything, but just that she’s got an older sister and she just seems…a lot older than she is).  But really, his heart is probably broken a little bit.  Just like mine would be.

*

I am beginning to hate the word ‘club’.

Main Entry: ¹club

Function: noun

Usage: often attributive

Etymology: Middle English clubbe, from Old Norse klubba; akin to Old High German kolbo club

Date: 13th century

</snip>…

3 a : an association of persons for some common object usually jointly supported and meeting periodically; also : a group identified by some common characteristic <nations in the nuclear club> b : the meeting place of a club <lunch at the club> c : an association of persons participating in a plan by which they agree to make regular payments or purchases in order to secure some advantage

I mean, I shouldn’t.  It’s an innocent word.  But I guess sometimes it’s the word that’s used where people associate for a common purpose, to the exclusion of others. Which is great, if you’re invited to the club or invited to the cool party, or asked to come into the secret hiding spot at recess.  Maybe it’s not so cool if you tell everyone where you are and what cool things you’re doing and what neat people you’re hanging out with, if everyone isn’t invited? Maybe? Or I am just seriously sensitive?  And envious?  Because part of my brain is still in high school and still wants to be one of the cool kids.

*

I am trying to teach Oliver to keep secrets.  Little tiny secrets from his brother.  Secrets of omission.  Because sometimes he’s going to be able to do things that Callum can’t do.  Or sometimes he stays awake just a bit later than Callum to get his homework done. I don’t think he needs to share everything he does with him.  Particularly if it’s going to make his brother feel bad.

*

I think I probably feel badly about things too often. And I think I’d like to protect my kids from that. And, maybe, the whole world from that.

Should we start a club?  Should we invite everyone?

(Again, because I was selfish before!)

Last week, I pushed myself out of my comfort zone fairly significantly twice.  One was a attending work-organized day that involved planning around big environmental and economic issues, topics way out of my league.  I was able to hear some neat speakers, and work with some colleagues that I wouldn’t ordinarily come across.  And inevitably my working style means I’ll have a fairly significant role in assembling the finished product.  Damn you, protestant work ethic.  The other, as I had mentioned, involved being on a panel at a social media & marketing conference where I ended up speaking to a room of about a hundred people.  And I did okay.  And that’s not something that I have done very often in my life (hence hiding behind my computer screen).

Someone asked me last week why I had done these things, instead of saying no to the panel or not registering for the day; why did I make myself uncomfortable?  I think I realized that with so much chaos in other realms of my life right now, it was a couple of little things that I could do, and enjoy the stress in a positive way.  There’s nothing particularly bad going on around here – it’s just the seemingly unending swirling madness of kids/house/work/relationships/everything being kind of vaguely crappy and not under control or constructive or calm.  I grabbed a couple of things that I could do for myself and ran with them.  Maybe it stopped me from drowning.

*

Maybe it turns out that I am okay at public speaking sometimes. Maybe it turns out that my opinions on the green economy and job creation are legitimate. Maybe there’s even more evidence of my self-critical voice that I was able to banish briefly.  Here’s something you can probably figure out from my blog, or from knowing me in real life: I have debilitatingly low self-esteem.   I am the biggest critic of myself ever.  It seems like I will never think I am good enough at anything.

Except, I am trying to do a little work on this pretty huge problem.  Because it’s affected me too much.  This problem requires a LOT of self-indulgence and some time away from the kids.  It seems pretty selfish.  And also? It’s really, really hard to do.  I’m worried that I’m going to end up sitting in front of the mirror…

Well, whatever works, eh?

*

On Friday, due to attending the planning day, and going out after, I didn’t see my kids for 24 hours.  That? Is selfish.  But mostly REJUVENATING.  It’s totally necessary.  It had been a while.

*

The “after” was a book reading/launch for Mothering and Blogging: The Radical Act of the Mommyblog.  I also got to meet up with Nadine before the launch for dinner; had been too long since I saw her in person.  I really, really enjoyed the passages that the editors read out, and the discussion that followed of a feminist analysis of “mommy blogs”.

I have had a problem calling this space by that moniker.  Because I wince at the word ‘mommy’.  I don’t want to be called mommy, except by my kids (who actually say Mummy or Mum).  I prefer parenting/life blogging – that’s on my business card right now.  But the editors pointed out that the genre does have a feminine identity; it’s not just about being a parent.  It should be gendered, whether you call it mommy blogging or the ‘momosphere’ or whatever.  It’s a lot about mothers talking about mothering in a space where their  kids aren’t reading it (yet) or hearing it.  My blog reading encompasses much more than moms or dads blogging.  But it was kind of a nice reminder of one of the biggest benefits of doing this, of participating in this space.  That discussion between  mothers about mothering and the issues that come with that particular identity.

The book is on my nightstand, waiting to be read.

*

I’m reading more lately in general.  A return to reading books, which had been decimated by the birth of the kids.  Yes, I’m doing that for myself too.  And it feels good.