The ambivalences of growing distance

Ever since I was pregnant with Tom, I have been thinking of the "growing distance" question. A week before Tom's delivery, I told my husband that from the moment of Tom's birth, the baby and I would never be as close again. Never.

Now Tom is four and a half months old. He starts pushing himself into standing and arches his back so as to see what's beside and behind/above him. He's very curious, and he is far from agreeing with me on some subjects. Disagreement he utters by wildly flailing his arms, pushing things away, using After this short time ,I feel so distant from him sometimes; when I do not know what it is that he wants; when I know what he wants but I do not want it, when our wishes are so apart from each other's.

The heroine of my dissertation novel would love that. It would prove that her daughter is different from her, does not follow in her footsteps, becomes different from her. It's like that character in the book denies her role model position. Even if in our conscious state we might not want our kids to become like us, our education, our notions, our every moves and behaviors just teach them to be our kids, teach them to take over certain aspects from us.

Sometimes it seems to me like Tom is speaking to my, he is convinced I understand his baby talk, to him it's serious language. I have the feeling he is already imitation the pitch of my voice, my speech melody. Surprise, anger, enjoyment - it's all there already.

And like the heroine of the dissertation novel I like that he is different from me, in looks, in attitude, in gender. It is such a gift to have someone else around, someone so completely new and different. It's exciting, sometimes scary because you don't know anything about that person, but lovely at the same time. Never boring, always full of surprises.

And to bridge the distance, to manage dialogue, even at this early stage, and to maintain that dialogue throughout life, isn't that it what it is all about, education, raising one's child?

At least I hope that's part of it.

I am terribly tired today. I read something about tradition in the sense of its Latin origin tradere, carry over. What do we carry over form ourselves into the next generation?
I have been a teacher for a few years, and I had never too much doubt about what to teach and how to deal with the aspect of tradition. Choosing what to pass on and what not seemed to be "natural". Being a mother myself now changes all that. Why? What for?

Must get some more work done.

Tom's Mom.

- 1.4.2008 - Schreibe einen Kommentar