Not the TV series by that name, which I have never seen. Rather, Downton Abbey. I'm not going to lie: Joe and I had a five episode binge last Saturday night, and two episodes yesterday morning and one last night. We'll finish Season 2 tonight.
I watch it because it's a naughty pleasure to peer over the covers at Downton and all its gorgeous, uptight characters. Whilst naked.
I'm here nursing Joe and Joseph, who have some kind of virulent flu. Early yesterday morning I decided since they were too sick to drive with me to LA for my Mom's 75th birthday, I would stay home, too. The idea of being in a car with two sickies for 6 or 7 hours vs. driving alone all day vs. staying in bed made my decision instant.
I had been looking forward to participating in a family gathering that I did not organize. My siblings can host a special event without my help, and I was happy to just show up and enjoy it for a change. Because let's face it, I can be a controlling bitch sometimes. I whip things into shape and some might say I can be uncompromising.
I just asked Joe what "take no prisoners" means. He said it's when you kill everyone even after your enemy has been defeated, even if they've surrendered. Wikipedia adds,
"Take no prisoners" style indicates viewing the world in two-dimensional terms. There is no third dimension where mercy can be dealt. Instead, there is merely forward active aggression from which no one is spared. Mitigating circumstances, as in warfare, of injury or surrender do not exist in the "take no prisoners" mindset.
That's definitely NOT what I mean, or what I am like with my family. I don't think.
I think about how I used to force my younger siblings to clean the house in a game I made up called "Deadman." When I gave the command, they had to die and freeze on the floor. I would whisper detailed chore instructions in each of their ears, and when I clapped, all of them jumped up and speedily swept or washed windows or scrubbed toilets.
If only I had that much control over my husband and kids now...
Since I was in SF and not in LA celebrating my Mom's birthday, I was able to help my son Ian (19) prepare to go on his walkabout. I don't know what else to call it. He starts in Big Sur, then may head to Oregon and Washington (as a general direction) and/or to New Orleans by way of Detroit or vice versa.
I bought Ian a zero degree sleeping bag and a new pair of pants. It's this instead of college, so I felt I could give a little bit of quality if not quantity. I was willing to buy him a new tent and backpack but he declined.
These days, since the Occupy movement, Ian is conflicted about allowing me to buy him things. He's an 'anti-capitalist' yet living on the Bender dole. Not conflicted enough to get a job 'working for the Man,' but enough to set out on a WWOOFing journey. Which I totally support.
Anti-capitalism is a nice twist. I still remember the rage young Ian (age 10?) flew into at the Novato Target because I wouldn't buy him a pair of jeans he wanted. They had some logo or stupid flashy thing I was against. He really worked me hard. I did not give in, but felt terrible. Now I am stoked that he has two pairs of pants instead of just one for his journey.
I like the new Ian, the one who spends 8-12 hours a day making music and reading Non-Violent Communication. No more video games. Lots of YouTube, though. Super chill. No job. Polite. Engaged. No job.
New Ian is walking away from his music-making and dj gigs to explore being on his own, in the wild so to speak. Don't laugh. Raising boys in Bolinas...you know what I'm taking about. They are adorable and feral. They don't domesticate well, at least without a fight.
I'm still making this parenting shit up, and it may not be right at all. I may be taking the completely wrong approach. But I do like how New Ian questions things, and likes to sit around the dinner table and argue about society (while eating our home-cooked meals). I'll miss him. I'm sure he'll be back.
What am I not telling you?
I went to a group the other night. It was such a relief to meet and shamelessly talk with others like me. Joe was with me, and he felt the same way. We all had similar stories.
For now, we'll leave it at that.
I watch it because it's a naughty pleasure to peer over the covers at Downton and all its gorgeous, uptight characters. Whilst naked.
I'm here nursing Joe and Joseph, who have some kind of virulent flu. Early yesterday morning I decided since they were too sick to drive with me to LA for my Mom's 75th birthday, I would stay home, too. The idea of being in a car with two sickies for 6 or 7 hours vs. driving alone all day vs. staying in bed made my decision instant.
I had been looking forward to participating in a family gathering that I did not organize. My siblings can host a special event without my help, and I was happy to just show up and enjoy it for a change. Because let's face it, I can be a controlling bitch sometimes. I whip things into shape and some might say I can be uncompromising.
I just asked Joe what "take no prisoners" means. He said it's when you kill everyone even after your enemy has been defeated, even if they've surrendered. Wikipedia adds,
"Take no prisoners" style indicates viewing the world in two-dimensional terms. There is no third dimension where mercy can be dealt. Instead, there is merely forward active aggression from which no one is spared. Mitigating circumstances, as in warfare, of injury or surrender do not exist in the "take no prisoners" mindset.
That's definitely NOT what I mean, or what I am like with my family. I don't think.
I think about how I used to force my younger siblings to clean the house in a game I made up called "Deadman." When I gave the command, they had to die and freeze on the floor. I would whisper detailed chore instructions in each of their ears, and when I clapped, all of them jumped up and speedily swept or washed windows or scrubbed toilets.
If only I had that much control over my husband and kids now...
Since I was in SF and not in LA celebrating my Mom's birthday, I was able to help my son Ian (19) prepare to go on his walkabout. I don't know what else to call it. He starts in Big Sur, then may head to Oregon and Washington (as a general direction) and/or to New Orleans by way of Detroit or vice versa.
I bought Ian a zero degree sleeping bag and a new pair of pants. It's this instead of college, so I felt I could give a little bit of quality if not quantity. I was willing to buy him a new tent and backpack but he declined.
These days, since the Occupy movement, Ian is conflicted about allowing me to buy him things. He's an 'anti-capitalist' yet living on the Bender dole. Not conflicted enough to get a job 'working for the Man,' but enough to set out on a WWOOFing journey. Which I totally support.
Anti-capitalism is a nice twist. I still remember the rage young Ian (age 10?) flew into at the Novato Target because I wouldn't buy him a pair of jeans he wanted. They had some logo or stupid flashy thing I was against. He really worked me hard. I did not give in, but felt terrible. Now I am stoked that he has two pairs of pants instead of just one for his journey.
I like the new Ian, the one who spends 8-12 hours a day making music and reading Non-Violent Communication. No more video games. Lots of YouTube, though. Super chill. No job. Polite. Engaged. No job.
New Ian is walking away from his music-making and dj gigs to explore being on his own, in the wild so to speak. Don't laugh. Raising boys in Bolinas...you know what I'm taking about. They are adorable and feral. They don't domesticate well, at least without a fight.
I'm still making this parenting shit up, and it may not be right at all. I may be taking the completely wrong approach. But I do like how New Ian questions things, and likes to sit around the dinner table and argue about society (while eating our home-cooked meals). I'll miss him. I'm sure he'll be back.
What am I not telling you?
I went to a group the other night. It was such a relief to meet and shamelessly talk with others like me. Joe was with me, and he felt the same way. We all had similar stories.
For now, we'll leave it at that.
It seems to me, Bolinas is a less than ideal place to raise children. Lack of accountability and idleness coupled with drug stupor presides.
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