Watching the Winter Olympics with the boys has become a great pastime. We watched the Summer Games too, and they jump all around imitating the athletes, very drawn in by the spectacle, events and competition
During the broadcast I’ve noticed ads for the new “Parenthood” series on NBC, based on the 1989 movie by the same name, and, tonight, I just remembered something I’d seemingly forgotten. Now, what’s interesting to me about that isn’t what I remembered, but that I had actually forgotten it in the first place.
There’s a scene in the movie where Steve Martin’s character, Gil, has taken his kids to a Chuck E. Cheese type place and at some point there his son loses his retainer. Gil winds up, with his wife, in the alleyway behind the restaurant going through trash bags trying to find this damned retainer. It’s disgusting and he’s angry and obsessing. His wife says something like “We can buy another one. You don’t have to do this.” And he replies…no…he spits out: “My whole life is have to.” My whole life is have to.…
I was a senior in high school when I saw that and that moment seared itself right into my mind and tapped into something deep inside me. I knew then and there I wanted no part of that. My whole life is have to. Not. For. Me. If other people wanted kids, families, hey, good luck with that. Have fun looking for retainers. He who travels lightly travels swiftly. This defined my philosophy throughout young adult life, so much and so thoroughly I even remember having a very serious angst ridden discussion with Mickie when she was pregnant with Sebastian about what it would mean, how unsettled I felt about the coming change – and I recounted that scene, almost reliving it, during this discussion. It somehow encompassed and represented my fears.
That was six years ago and I don’t think I’ve thought about Gil and looking for retainers since that night. Until now. I’ve been too busy living I suppose. Funny….
There are only a handful of Olympic Games that the boys will want to sit and watch with me before friends and dates and just being too cool sound better to them I expect. Maybe not. But, we’ll enjoy these. They can stay up late. Discover their favorite events. We’ll cheer together, I’ll ask them what they think, if they prefer Summer Games or Winter Games and why, answer their questions, cheer their attempts at imitation, and watch as they fight sleep on the couch, struggling to sit up and keep their eyes open, to see one more snowboarder, groggily laughing as those of us still awake make fun of them as they fall asleep, eventually succumbing. Then I’ll carry them off to bed one by one, expressing wonder at how heavy they’ve gotten. I’ll cover them and whisper to them how proud I am of them, all the while thinking how thankful I am for them. And I’ll kiss them and when I do I’ll hope somewhere deep in their subconscious, in their sleeping selves, they feel their daddy loving them more than life itself. And I’ll lose sleep if they need me to. I’ll stay up holding him while one coughs, rub Vicks on his chest, remembering myself as that same little boy, then put him back to bed when he’s ready. I’ll help with trips to the poddy, tangled blankets, and bad dreams. I’ll know by the sound of his footsteps which one is getting up and what he needs, if he’s upset or scared or half asleep and confused. And I’ll be there, ever available. Then I’ll carry him, put him back to bed, kiss him and whisper how proud I am of him.
Because I have to you see.
But we still won’t go to Chuck E. Cheese.
LOVE this.
Our daughter is almost five months old and I, like you, spent my first 31 years thinking “I’m not doing anything because it’s socially prescribed.” My husband has three adult children and I thought, “If we have kids, fine. If not, fine.”
And then we had Mariel and I look at her every single hour of every single day and I think, “How could I have thought at any moment in my life that this was just ‘fine’?” It’s extraordinary. But I think the answer to that question is that the dominant social narrative seems to suggest that we can only live a certain sort of way– that if we get married, we have kids, that’s it. That we’re somehow scripted into stultifying obligation and boringness.
And like you guys, I just refuse to accept that.
Thanks for this blog– totally stoked about it.
Peace,
Julie
Wow, Julie thank you so much for your comment. We’re just getting this site together, and for someone established like yourself to take the time to check it out and leave such a heartfelt comment really encourages us to keep pushing forward. These exchanges in themselves make creative expression feel so worthwhile.
A.J. & Mickie
Bear — enjoyed this — well said as always. Of all the things we’ve discussed over the years, not sure whether we ever talked about this movie, but it also had a very memorable scene that I often think about, to remind myself (and H) what parenthood, and I suppose life in general, is all about. It was the scene with Gil and his Grandma — (thanks to Google I’m able to quote it verbatim)
[Gil has been complaining about his complicated life; Grandma wanders into the room]
Grandma: You know, when I was nineteen, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster.
Gil: Oh?
Grandma: Up, down, up, down. Oh, what a ride!
Gil: What a great story.
Grandma: I always wanted to go again. You know, it was just so interesting to me that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited, and so thrilled all together! Some didn’t like it. They went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it.
In addition to loving a great roller coaster, that metaphor is what defines my philosophy — although, as we’ve discussed, its easier to complain about the downs than it is to be grateful for the ups.
We’ve had a different path to parenthood, but in many ways, have ended up in very much the same place. And regarding Chuck E. Cheese — Amen Brother — that place is disgusting.
Love to you, Mick and the Boys,
I am done reading your blogs today, being pregnant with our second these are all making me cry. You are great at expressing such sincere emotion. Love reading your stuff!
Don’t know why I missed these earlier. Thank you Jennifer! And congratulations on #2, great news.