But wait… there’s more.
And it’s worse. What the fuck. It’s always worse. After all, this is my stupid life.
I am still worried about my son. He was really anxious about going to school today after the whole Friday afternoon thing. I hope it’s not horrible. I know I’m going to stress about this all day… even though there’s nothing I can do.
But something else about this is also eating at me. And again, there’s nothing I can do.
All these kids live on the other side of town… and they’ve been hanging out for years. My son has always had friends and he’d have occasional play dates. But it was hard because my husband and I were both working so we weren’t around after school. I don’t know how all the other kids’ parents did it. But it always seemed that all the other kids spent so much more time together than my kids spent with anyone. And it’s still like that now.
I know it’s my fault. For three reasons…
First, my son tells me that all the kids are always talking about video games and their x-box or whatever system they have. We don’t have one. It’s just not something we ever wanted to spend the money on and my son never really pushed for it. It didn’t seem like he cared. Maybe he really did care but didn’t tell us. I don’t know. Now he says he doesn’t even know if he wants it because he truly wants it or because he feels like he needs to have it to have friends.
Second, I am terrible at making friends so I never get to know anyone’s parents. I’m friendly and I can talk to people a little. But I don’t know how to make small talk. I don’t know how to start an actual friendship. Even when I was working, the people I was ‘friends’ with (and it rarely carried outside the office) were people who approached me. I don’t know how to initiate. Even if I could get myself to ask someone if they want to go out for a cup of coffee (is that even a thing or will I sound like a freak?), then what? I won’t know what to talk about while I’m with the person. And none of this would help my son at this point. He’s too old for it to matter if I’m friends with his friends’ parents. Maybe it matters for my daughter… but it’s probably too late for her, too.
Third, I worry too much which makes me somewhat overprotective. Things are different than they were when I was a kid. I see the news… I hear about kids being taken… killed, even. It freaks me out. I hate how much I worry when my kids aren’t home. I know it’s excessive but I can’t help it.
But it’s not as though I say no when my kids ask me if they can do something. I was never going to let my 8 or 9 year old walk all over town without an adult. That’s too young. Maybe I should have allowed it at 11… at 10? I don’t know. I let my son do it now, but apparently, it’s too late.
He told me that a couple of kids have made fun of him for his parents being overprotective. How is that his fault? It’s not… it’s our fault. And like I said, I don’t say no. But like I also said, it’s too late. No one even asks him to hang out. When he went with them to the park the other day, he just said, ‘hey, can I come with you guys?’ And the kid he talked to said, ‘sure, if you can.’ Was ‘if you can’ a dig at his overprotective parents? I didn’t pick up on that at first, but I bet it was. But… my son went. And if you read the other post, you all know how that turned out.
I had no idea it was like this for him until pretty much now. I don’t even know how long this has been an issue. I wish he’d said something as soon as it came up. But maybe it already would have been too late… I don’t know.
It’s not just me, though. My husband has never thought I was unusually overprotective. He and I always agreed on this stuff. I know I’m the one with the extreme worrying issues so I think he kind of puts it on me, but he’s never stepped up and said something was okay that I was worried about. So the blame doesn’t all fall to me, does it?
What happens now? I can’t do anything, can I? I fucked up my kids’ lives. I’ve made it too hard for them to have friends… too easy for them to be teased. I really am a horrible parent. And I can’t fix it. Even if I immediately start doing everything ‘right’, I can’t change things. It’s too late.
I am a complete failure and this time, and I didn’t just fuck up my own life… it’s my children… so it’s a million times worse.
Final assessment: I am a terrible parent. I’ve fucked things up that can’t be fixed. This time, I am completely hopeless. But I don’t even give a fuck how I feel anymore. These are my kids and I’ve failed them miserably.
©2017 what sandra thinks