Everyone needs an escape. An escape from a place, a person, ourselves. When the noise from others gets too loud like a sister-in-law who doesn’t care if she drives you right off a cliff or even that noise in your head where you replay (well, maybe you don’t, but I do) some event that you just want to kick yourself for not doing something different. You NEED that moment to withdraw, clean the slate, and rebalance.
We were in the grocery store last night when some 8-10 year old boy with his mother yelled across the store and told my 2 year old to “shut up.” The mother of the little bully seemed more amused than embarrassed and after saying, “sorry” turned around and laughed and dragged her kid the other direction. My two year old was mortified and stunned and kept telling me, “mommy, he told me to ‘shut up.’ I was bullied in middle school and high school and now, as an adult, by two sister-in-laws who throw their mean around like my two year old spits out vegetables. Pooee! And now, my angelic two year old who couldn’t hurt a fly is getting the same treatment. But it’s 4am and what I cannot get out of my head is why didn’t I walk over to that mother and say, “hey, your son’s and your behavior isn’t right. Period.”
I have never played the victim card. My parents wouldn’t allow it, but I did find ways to escape the outside world in a healthy way. I used to escape all this by diving into a frigid cold pool every morning at swim practice for 15 years. Every single morning. Stroke, stroke, breath. Stroke, stroke, breath. By the time I was finished I was so relaxed by the flow of the water and the tempo of my breathing that anything else was secondary. The fact that I excelled enough to make a pool record in college was icing on the cake. My true triumph was getting beyond those who meant to take me down and coming out the other end a functional, healthy, successful person.
As an adult, and a mother of two children under three, I do not have the luxury of swim practice every morning. But thanks to our landlord (who is just incredible) we now have a tractor to mow the property. I have always been a little country by nature. I like lots of land, big machinery, and guns. When the tractor arrived my mother remarked that she hadn’t seen me so giddy since Christmas. I knew, just knew, looking at that big orange tractor that it was going to be my new escape.
So on days when people really start getting to me, I hop on the tractor and mow the lawn around the house. The huuuummmmm huuuuummmm of the tractor and the concentration to make correct lines, get every patch, cut each tree, in itself become on art form. A rhythmic, calming, effort where the fresh air, the smell of cut grass, and the satisfaction of accomplishment gives me the peace I so long for and need. It’s the mental escape from others and even myself.
My two year old is not allowed to ride the tractor (though thanks to Bob the Builder he tells me, “Mommy, YES we can!”), but I am fully aware that as a parent who myself was told to ‘shut up’ by bullies as a child, I do need to help my son find his own healthy escapes. Playing with his Thomas trains and in the dirt outside is a start. But eventually, I will have to know him well enough to see where he excels and what makes him happy and encourage him in that endeavor and then hope that he too will find a healthy escape from a world filled with too much noise and nasty little kids.
I also may need to teach myself to face the bully and put a stop to B.S. and teach my son to do the same. But for now, I will play Thomas trains with my son and try to work through The Grocery Episode and tomorrow will savor the moments of freedom on the tractor…..
candyhillfarm 