Oh to Be a Freeborn....Anything

Let me begin this post by reminding my regulars that I do love my children.

But tonight I really don't like them.

On the eve of our first family trip in a while, I'm wishing I hadn't planned it at all. Over the last three or four days I've hustled, bustled, and been on the go, shuttling them to movies and family events and just about anyplace else they felt they needed to go. I did take about 45 minutes and head off trail at the park today, just to hear the wind in the trees and feel my feet on the earth.

But otherwise, I'm tapped out. This evening instead of listening to me when I said to read instead of watching cartoons online, because they can do that tomorrow and tonight is all I have, I foolishly let them talk me into letting them drift over to CN while I'm up to my eyeballs in laundry and trash and papers and packing.

That is the end of it, and the end of a lazy summer up til all hours while I sit and wait for my free time to roll around. That dog don't hunt, in fact, it took a bullet in the tail.

At their other house they have a great deal of freedom, and far more space to be shoved out of the way with their CartoonNetwork obsession without it annoying everyone else. What's worse is the CN and Nick and whateverelseisoutthereoncableeatingupbrains is allowed to be consumed at such a pace that they can recite line for line some of the shows. What a world it would be if children could recite a line of Robert Frost, or even better, a line of their own poetry.

I've really had it on so many levels. This little place is all I have. I try to allow my kids most of what they are used to in very small doses, but it is literally never enough. I really do try to show some interest in it, but frankly, it's just junk. When among a group of adults I recently expressed some appreciation for the artfulness of some of that junk, specifically a show which celebrates the imaginative powers of young minds who make up distinct and complicated imaginary friends to meet their needs -- indeed, because of the interesting psychology behind it that particular show might be the one thing I can tolerate -- you would have thought I had grown a second head. So I remain at a total loss as to the appeal of any of it and cannot for the life of me fathom why so many thinking adults allow this stream of consciousness-killing crap into their kids' lives.

So when my own kids bring that junk into my space, I can take it for about five minutes before I'm over my limit. And actually, that time is running shorter and shorter.

I really do love my kids. We do watch movies together now and then. And we do lots of other things together, like this trip we're about to take. But I think I'm over my limit in more ways than one. I'm back to a place I was about a year ago when I found myself without room for me when they're around. And I need that space back, and that means they will have to give up something that most likely isn't good for them anyway.

Tonight my daughter came down stairs upon a summons to take back up to her room some stuff she had left on the table, and she was surprised to see that her tooth had fallen out. It was impossible for me to muster any excitement. We looked around for it a little but chances are it was washed down the drain while she was brushing her teeth. By the time I got her in bed, I sighed an unceremonious "Oh well" and that was that. I felt guilty but I could barely care about a lost tooth with the mound of chores that lay ahead and the seeming lack of interest on the part of either child just how much has gone into pulling together this trip on top of working as well as the activities they've thoroughly enjoyed over the last several days.

When I saw Carrie Rodriguez last weekend, I thought, "What this world needs is an all-woman tribute to Jimmy Martin." I love Jimmy Martin songs. They're so full of gusto, and I don't mind singing them. Because a lot of the time the stuff that comes out of those songs really hits it for me. Like Freeborn Man. I love to sing that song, and not ashamed of it at all. There is no doubt women can appreciate those songs. I read recently the best quote I have seen in a long time, from a woman who runs a clever niche nonprofit here. She said, "Before I had children, I was a man." Ain't that the damn truth.

What would happen if I actually walked away from it all? I have actually been blamed for putting other things aside in the interest of my kids, like, it was the wrong thing to do.

To those I say:

They're children, you fucking morons. I didn't have them to send them to boarding school, sit them in front of a TV, or leave them by themselves at 10 p.m. on a school night so I could have a social life. I chose them. They require effort and attention to be the smart, engaging little people you like so well.

I'll get through this next week and I hope I have a little time to enjoy it. Hopefully my kids and I can make up and share a meaningful connection and place to move forward from that does not include me sacrificing my values and personal space and sanity. Meanwhile I'm going to dream about singing this song. Someday, my home might be on my back, and I don't think it sounds all that bad. No TV, no Target, no LL Bean, no Amazon.broke. No junk, no stuff. Just music.

Not bad, not at all.

Freeborn Man
Performed here by The (Almost) Original New South from the Sugar Hill Retrospective