Generation Exhausted

Letter to Myself

There've been a number of things running through my head lately (oh, who am I kidding? When isn't there?) It's times like these, that, more than ever, I feel the need to write - to get what's inside my head out there, to say all the things I'm thinking and feeling. Unfortunately, it's also times like these when I find it most difficult to write. Sentences need beginnings and middles and especially endings, and my thoughts rarely run in nice straight lines - they tend, instead, to spider-web out in ninety-nine different directions. No beginnings, no endings, just strings that tangle and knot and meld into one another.

A few weeks ago, I came across Bub and Pie's Dear Me post, and followed the link over to Miscellaneous Mom. And in doing so, found a method for something I've been wanting to write about for a long, long time. Ironically, the Letter To Myself below has both everything and nothing to do with all that's in my head today.

From: Generation Xhausted, March 2007

To: Shelley Anne, June 1983

Dear Me:

You probably haven't yet heard the saying "that which doesn't kill you makes you stronger" but it's true. And what you're going through right now isn't going to kill you - but it's going to take a long time before the strength part kicks in.

I know that today was an awful day for you - the worst yet. After months, even years, of schoolyard taunting and teasing, of being excluded, of having friends you trusted turn on you, of the occasional punch being thrown - today was the first day you will remember being truly afraid.

Today, seven girls in your sixth grade class backed you up against the school wall, stood in a semi-circle so you couldn't escape, and told you exactly why they think you're a worthless excuse for a human being. They shoved you occasionally for emphasis, and you could feel the brick wall biting into your back, oddly cold for a summer day. The way the brick felt? You'll remember that sensation so vividly that you'll avoid even casually leaning up against a brick wall for the next 20 years.

The way they got right up in your face, their mean little self-congratulatory smiles to each other - that'll stick too. You're going to go through your teens and twenties being afraid of people who smile at you, suspicious of groups of people who seem to share a secret you're not in on.

I don't want to frighten you further, but it's not going to get better, not right away. You're going to go to a new school and some of the same things are going to happen, although not quite as extreme. A little over a year from now, you're going to walk briefly on the bully's side; and for years you're going to sub-consciously adopt a "get them before they get you" approach to your relationships.

High school won't be horrific, but it won't be that Sweet Valley High experience you thought was coming your way. Your whole sense of who you can trust, and why, has been completely turned upside down. Your need to be liked is going to lead you down some pretty iffy paths, and you're going to make some pretty crappy choices for all the wrong reasons. There's going to be a little place in your heart that stays afraid - of everything. A hundred forms of fear will be your biggest motivators.

Not to mention the control issues - oh, the control issues! The more things you can't control, the harder you're going to try with the things you can. In the absence of visible adversaries, you're going to turn out to be your own worst enemy.

Would you believe there's a bright side? Trust me - it's there.

Because in another part of your heart and mind, there's something very interesting going on. The world outside you is so hard to make sense of that you're going to start creating better worlds, and better stories, with better endings, inside your head. And you're going to discover that you're good at it.

You're also going to be pretty independent - years of not trusting people will give you a sense of self-reliance that's going to come in handy.

In every good story, there's a crossroads up ahead. You're going to come upon yours in your early 20s.

The path you choose will confirm what you knew - what the people who really love you have been telling you - all along. Those girls? They were wrong.

You're not worthless, you're not nothing, and your back's not up against a wall anymore.

You're going to find empowerment in the way you have with words, and you're going to find better motivators than fear. You're going to find you have a big heart - that "get them first" attitude is going to fade away, replaced by "do no harm." And you're going to be earnest and intense about the things that really matter to you - and that's a good thing.

But you won't ever forget. You'll see articles and headlines about kids suffering what you suffered, and you'll want to tell them, "Hang in there." You'll cry when you read about kids killing themselves to escape the misery of being bullied. You'll read about the Columbine shootings, and you'll understand their rage, and thank God that you found a better way. And when your own daughters come home from school with tales of being harassed and hassled, it's going to push every button you have, and you'll react with the instincts of a mother bear. You'll go to the wall for your kids to try to protect them from those feelings of fear and helplessness. You'll struggle to find the words to help other people understand. This will frustrate you, but you'll keep trying.

It's all about progress, not perfection. Some people would call it growing up. But maybe it's just growing. Getting to the point where you realize that your experience shapes you, but it doesn't have to define you. As the author of your own story, you have the ability to write any ending you choose. You'll choose a good one.

What else can I tell you? Pretty soon, you're going to find a poem in a magazine, and cut it out and put it on the fridge, and eventually commit it to memory. It will help.

Don't Quit (anonymous)

When things go wrong as they sometimes will.
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill.
When funds are low and the debts are high.
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit.
Rest, if you must, but don’t you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns.
As everyone of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about.
When he might have won had he stuck it out:
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow –
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems so far:
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.

So hang in there, little girl. Remember - it's all going to be okay in the end. And if it's not okay, then it's not the end.

Love,

Me

Choppy thoughts

My darling blog fans, I have a tragic confession to make - my neglect of this space in recent days has no excuse but that I have been cheating on you with Facebook. Please forgive me, as the fascination has now worn off some, and I no longer feel compelled to update my status every 43 seconds.

Interesting, interesting couple of days. GOOD couple of days.

**

You know, one of the reasons I think I became a writer is that I have always been a particularly frustrated reader. Since I first picked up "B is for Betsy" back in the first grade, I have come to the end of book - any book, almost without exception - and said to myself, "That's IT? That can't be ALL. There should be MORE. I want to know what happens NEXT."

And so, in my head, I would indulge myself in imagining what came next.

This is great for being a writer, because you get to write all the stories - and their endings - that you haven't read yet.

But it's not a good thing to try to do with real life. For a long time, my imagining what would come next in my life, or where the path would lead, often ended in...well, sometimes disappointment. Sometimes, something less than disappointment, but nothing satisfying. rarely did an outcome quite measure up to my expectations.

But then I learned to try not to imagine - or at least not to limit the possibilities to the boundaries of my imagination.

And it's worked out beautifully. Time and time again, I am surprised - awestruck, even - by how much better, or how differently, things can go when you haven't pre-determined the outcome. My family, my career...the possibilities are endless. And endlessly rewarding.

**

Long-time readers will recall that I hold bicycle thieves in extreme contempt. Well, I've got a new one for you.

We left our wheelchair on the porch for a while after our last trip, because it's a hassle to put it in the garage, especially in the winter. Hubby doesn't use it often, mostly just when we travel. Or make extreme jaunts to the mall or WalMart. With another surgery coming up, I think we kind of anticipated that post-op, he'd need it even more for jaunts to the mall, anything that required a lot of walking. There's no need to use it in the house, and no room besides. I've also used it from time to time to take my grandmother around.

So a couple of weeks ago, we discovered that someone had lifted the wheelchair down off the porch, removed the large wheels from it, and left it leaning up against the house.

Should it have been on the porch? Obviously not. But it's OUR porch. OUR property. OUR wheelchair.

There has got to be a special place in h*ll for someone who steals the wheels off a wheelchair. At least if the wheelchair was gone completely, I could have consoled myself with the thought that, "oh, maybe someone needed it more than we do." But just the WHEELS? Who DOES that?

So for now, the wheelchair is useless. I'm looking into replacing the wheels, but I'm still fuming.

What's next, the porch swing?

**

Tomorrow (today?) is apparently Shutdown Day.  If you're reading this, you didn't participate. Neither did I. Maybe next time.

The Other Side Of The Story - in verse, no less

Ms. WilsonWorld has her version of the Great St. Paddy's Day Marshmallow Blizzard posted. Pictures too!

The marshmallows were green, and therefore begging to be thrown

I didn't start it.

Mr. WilsonWorld was the culprit this time around, choosing to break the "is there going to be a food fight" tension by smearing a spoonful of whipped cream down the side of his darling wife's face. Then, typically, he ran and attempted to barricade himself in his wife's office.

We chased him down like a dog, and I got the perfect shot - a glob of whipped cream flung through the partially open door off the end of a plastic knife, that nailed him right in the forehead. I was very proud, but hesitant to claim responsibility at first - these people fight back!

It wasn't until later that the multi-coloured mini marshmallows started flying around the room. May I just say that my oldest daughter and hubby could take their show on the road, such is their talent for catching marshmallows with their mouths.

We expect that all of the missed marshmallows will be found by summer. That poor woman - what we do to her kitchen.

Rumor has it that there may be pictures. I'll keep you posted.

The wearing o' the green

Top o' the mornin' afternoon to ya! Ms. Wilson has her Irish on, and later today the clan from here will venture down the street to feast on corned beef and other good stuff.  She's been slaving away in the kitchen all day!

We, in all our non-Irishness, are bringing the taco dip. And I've promised not to throw any food. Nothing teaches you not to start a food fight like losing one.

I am wearing my green Iowa State sweatshirt - though I have a hunch Iowa isn't a very Irish place. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.

Just hanging around

Believe it or not, we kicked off BBQ season last night down in WilsonWorld. We settled for eating indoors, since the patio furniture, etc. hasn't really been summer-ized yet. However, Bug came wandering in while we were eating, wondering where we all were -she'd put up the umbrella for us and everything. Oh, to be six, when things were simple.

We did our best to enjoy the fresh air and were reluctant to let the day go. At one point, I even climbed the tree that sits in WilsonWorld's backyard. (aka "that DAMN tree" - once the leaves come in, it does tend to overshadow everything.)

"Why?" wondered hubby, staring up at me while I was perched on the second lowest branch. "Why would you climb the tree?"

"Because I can," was the answer.

I'm keeping this entry short, as I'm testing out the MacBook and its wireless again. It's patchy.

It's also 30 degrees colder than it was yesterday, and that dreaded "wintry mix" is on its way. Yesterday was a nice reminder of what's waiting for us though. Any day now. Really. Spring is almost here.

Right?

She's in again!

The Fat Envelope from University #2 came today - right there on the front in big letters, it said, "Your Offer Of Admission Is Enclosed".

So, now she has CHOICES.

The sun DID come out tomorrow

Beautiful, beautiful day - glorious sunshine, mild (enough) temps. The kind of day when the whole neighbourhood starts to spring back to life. I even cleaned a window or two, aired out the house, and walked down to WilsonWorld.

Yes, walked. Which is incredibly out of character for me. On the way back, I passed by Neighbour G. and she commented on that. "Is that Shelley I see walking down the street?" she called from her front porch. Why yes, yes it was. And I wasn't even wearing a coat.

Winter started late, so there's really little to complain about, but it did stick once it got here. It's no wonder that the sidewalks and cul-de-sacs were filled with kids riding bikes and playing road hockey today. And it's always neat to see that the toddler you last saw outside in November is now a bonafide preschooler, totally changed.

This whole time change thing actually helped too. It was light out until 7 o'clock! If that doesn't make it feel like spring, I don't know what does.

It'll probably snow by the end of the week, but that's okay. Spring has sprung.

She's in!

Oldest checked the Web site today and discovered that she's been accepted to the University's Communication Studies Program for Fall 2007. Since she was beginning to worry that she'd end up working at McD's and living in the basement for the rest of her life, this comes as a great relief.

But no surprise to me, really. Not for a single second did I doubt it would happen. However, try telling kids anything...

That's my girl!

March-ing onward

It's March Break in Ontario. For those moms who find themselves once again playing Julie-the-cruise-director for their bored brood, take heart - the early clock change means that the week is now one hour shorter.

This is worse than a cheater blog - it's a total cop-out. I'll try again tomorrow.

Don't forget to change your clocks!