I got through all the 1980 journal entries for Kelli. There were fewer than I thought--at the time, I felt really busy writing in journals for the girls, but that is probably because I had two journals to write in. Clearly, with only one journal in hand, life appears to have been very skewed in Kelli's favor, leaving big gaps about things that happened to Abbi. Obviously, I would have been much smarter to just write my OWN journal. That would have been the better part of wisdom.
It is kind of a happy/sad experience to re-read old journals. I have to keep forgiving myself for moments of being impatient, or having unreal expectations for my children, or being too judgmental when I should have been more patient and kind. Fortunately, that is something a person can learn to be better at.
I remember being in a short story class at BYU with Dr. Ballantyne. (It was a really good class, and I really liked the way Dr. Ballantyne taught.) This was during my one year at BYU when we had four children--trying to get myself to a point where I could actually finish my degree and graduate from a distance, which I finally did in 1994, the year that Josie (child no.6) was born.
One day Dr. Ballantyne asked "How many of you are parents?" I put my hand up, as did two or three other students. He then asked how many and the ages of our children. All the other students had only one or two children, all under the age of two or three. I said I had four, and they were 3, 5, 10 and 11. He then asked me if I treat the younger children exactly the same way I treated the older children (at those ages). I said no, I did not. There were audible gasps in the room, and I was getting killer looks. Dr. Ballantyne said, "Why do you treat them differently?" And I said, "Because I have learned some things -- I try to be better with the kids than I used to be." That was exactly the point he was going for--and he went on with his lecture on change and personal growth and how it affects life, (and also of course writing).
I can remember my mother feeling badly for the same reasons--she felt that she had been too rigid with Bruce and Colleen when they were little, with high expectations and not enough patience, and that was something she changed for Arlene and I. (Mom also felt particularly bad about how she had treated our cousin Mary M. P. Mary would often spend the summers with my parents, and though she was only a little child herself, being about five years older than my brother Bruce, Mom had very unreal expectations for Mary. She would relate how she would give Mary a bucket and send her out to pick raspberries--by herself--and then expect her to actually put the berries in the bucket without eating most of them. She often apologized to Mary for being too hard on her.) So I was in good company with my mother, needing to make similar changes. Mom would often remind me, with my oldest girls, "Myrna, they are just little girls." And she was very patient and kind with them when I was sometimes exasperated and frustrated. Unfortunately, I was not yet ready to listen and apply everything my mother tried to teach me, even in my twenties, or I could have been a better mother much faster.
Older siblings can see when their parents are nicer to younger siblings, and they sometimes write it up as "You are so unfair" or "You love them more" but really, it is a case of learning and growing as a parent. When you know that you have fallen short of the mark but can do better, of course you've got to do better. You can't treat the younger children with impatience once you realize you had made a mistake with the older ones--you've got to change your way of behaving, or you are not fair to yourself.
It is kind of a happy/sad experience to re-read old journals. I have to keep forgiving myself for moments of being impatient, or having unreal expectations for my children, or being too judgmental when I should have been more patient and kind. Fortunately, that is something a person can learn to be better at.
I remember being in a short story class at BYU with Dr. Ballantyne. (It was a really good class, and I really liked the way Dr. Ballantyne taught.) This was during my one year at BYU when we had four children--trying to get myself to a point where I could actually finish my degree and graduate from a distance, which I finally did in 1994, the year that Josie (child no.6) was born.
One day Dr. Ballantyne asked "How many of you are parents?" I put my hand up, as did two or three other students. He then asked how many and the ages of our children. All the other students had only one or two children, all under the age of two or three. I said I had four, and they were 3, 5, 10 and 11. He then asked me if I treat the younger children exactly the same way I treated the older children (at those ages). I said no, I did not. There were audible gasps in the room, and I was getting killer looks. Dr. Ballantyne said, "Why do you treat them differently?" And I said, "Because I have learned some things -- I try to be better with the kids than I used to be." That was exactly the point he was going for--and he went on with his lecture on change and personal growth and how it affects life, (and also of course writing).
I can remember my mother feeling badly for the same reasons--she felt that she had been too rigid with Bruce and Colleen when they were little, with high expectations and not enough patience, and that was something she changed for Arlene and I. (Mom also felt particularly bad about how she had treated our cousin Mary M. P. Mary would often spend the summers with my parents, and though she was only a little child herself, being about five years older than my brother Bruce, Mom had very unreal expectations for Mary. She would relate how she would give Mary a bucket and send her out to pick raspberries--by herself--and then expect her to actually put the berries in the bucket without eating most of them. She often apologized to Mary for being too hard on her.) So I was in good company with my mother, needing to make similar changes. Mom would often remind me, with my oldest girls, "Myrna, they are just little girls." And she was very patient and kind with them when I was sometimes exasperated and frustrated. Unfortunately, I was not yet ready to listen and apply everything my mother tried to teach me, even in my twenties, or I could have been a better mother much faster.
Older siblings can see when their parents are nicer to younger siblings, and they sometimes write it up as "You are so unfair" or "You love them more" but really, it is a case of learning and growing as a parent. When you know that you have fallen short of the mark but can do better, of course you've got to do better. You can't treat the younger children with impatience once you realize you had made a mistake with the older ones--you've got to change your way of behaving, or you are not fair to yourself.
1 comment:
I love this.
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