onsdag 16 maj 2018

Är detta resultatet av att en mor alltför starkt trott på bilderboken OCH TRÄDET VAR LYCKLIGT?!

Dagen efter att jag skrivit blogginlägget om bilderboken Och trädet var lyckligt (och schemalagt det till 14 maj-18, se nedan) – om vådan av att vara en överdriven barnkramare till förälder – snubblade jag över detta inlägg av en förtvivlad mor.

Tanken väcktes genast att så här kan det i extremfallet gå för de mödrar som alltför starkt trott på den ”villkorlösa kärlek” som boken ifråga tycks propagera för. "Bokpåverkan" på vuxna?

I did not mind all the sacrifices but stealing my joy as a mother is beyond cruel

lostnfound (7 maj 2018)  

I will be deleting this thread, because the topic is meant to be a howl from the wind in the middle of the night, and because communication itself must also be sacrificed. 

Giving up alcohol for nine months so that your little brain would not be harmed was a piece a cake. 
Carrying you around on my back for most of three years, all around town, was exhausting — a lot of fun. Reading to you for hours every night until you were eight or nine years old was a joy, even the entire Series of Unfortunate Events which you insisted on having me read to you when you were five, which we both loved. 

Many people encourage parents when the kids are young. “Oh, that’s so good for him!” you hear. The reading, the games, the walks. Surely you are doing the right things. You listen to the teachers, you read the parenting books. You scale back your career — “I could have had a bigger career, but what matters to me more is the kid.” 

Precious things got sacrificed too. I gave up a lot of time with my beloved sister, because she lived in another state, and you had school and activities and there was never enough time. I gave up a book club that was comprised of a few good friends. I put up with thousands of changes that are necessary to keep peace in the family, whether or not I fully believed they were the right thing to do. Moms and dads sacrifice a lot to keep peace in the family. Moms and dads don’t always agree on the right way to do stuff, so you compromise and sacrifice and the only guiding light that helps you solve disagreements is “what’s best for the kid.” 

In middle school, I stayed up late many nights trying to help you with homework and occasionally almost all night helping you with a project. Helping you with the science fair. And in one of those irrational slaps in the face that you get from a certain kind of boy, I sacrificed the science fair itself, which I had so much wanted to go to because I knew it was the only such memory i would ever have, watching you present at the science fair, because you’re my only child, and I loved science fairs when I was growing up. So that would have been such a special memory for me. But you really really didn’t want me to come in so I sat in the car and waited, and cried. You came out eventually, and I hid my tears and put on a happy face, because I didn’t want to ruin your positive experience, but you were already angry when you arrived, because I was parked too close to the front, or some other unexpected complaint. 

Now, I’m prepared for an early retirement in another place, where a peaceful house is waiting on the lake I can rest outside of this cold climate. Two extra years here, for your sake. I’m carrying a mortgage that’s more than I can handle so that you could go to a school that was supposed to be good for you.you didn’t end up staying there, but that’s another story. 

But now, you’re on the cusp of adulthood, and you seem to want me to sacrifice my sanity, my self-respect, and worst of all, 17 years of my most meaningful memories and the simple dreams that any mother has. Your anger and hostility overwhelms me, your sarcasm frightens me, your demands infuriate me, your recklessness worries me, your threats and your coldness break my heart. In the last four months, minor frictions have exploded into major chasms and bewildering behavior. 

Who can I talk to? If it were up to you I would hold it inside till I explode. I talk to my friend when you’re out of earshot, but no one comes to the rescue. I’m too old to be a damsel in distress, I guess. Rescues can’t be made, escapes are closed. I’m not strong enough to withstand your behaviors. I’m getting old, tired, forgetful, in pain. I tell a friend, “I feel like a gazelle in a small boat with a lion”. Sort of like Life of Pi. Am I a “loser” because I didn’t fight harder for a bigger career? You say so. And in every argument, when I push back, you push harder. I am a willow, not cut out for parenting. Not like this. 

Everywhere I look, I see reminders of those sweet early years — the car commercial with the pregnant couple, the framed art from middle school on my wall, the young family playing outside. I ran across the books that said it all: A Series of Unfortunate Events. I scream at friends on the phone. My heart has.broken into 17 pieces, who can put them together again? Next weekend is “Mother’s Day”. It is a cruel joke, and it would be best if it passes without comment.


Alla tonåringar är väl ändå inte så svåra att älska som denne 17-årige yngling? Och alla mammor är väl förhoppningsvis inte lika ”exemplariska” som denna kvinna med pseudonymen ”lostnfound”? Man får innerligt hoppas att hon återfinner sig själv.

Kommentarerna har varit medkännande och alla tycks ta modern på största allvar, möjligen för att texten är publicerad på ett forum där man ej skämtar om ting som dessa. Men kan man lita på inläggets äkthet eller uppriktighet? Det är hemskt att man idag ständigt måste tvivla, även om texten inte är av karaktären "fake news”. Fast ”lost and found” kan översättas med ”hittegods” eller ”borttappat”…

Den bokserie som mamman säger sig ha genomlidit 13 avsnitt av, pseudonymen Lemony Snickets A Series of Unfortunate Events/Syskonen Baudelaires olycksaliga liv (1999–2006), kan kanske också ge en fingervisning? Wikipedias beskrivning: 

”Handlingen kretsar kring de föräldralösa syskonen Violet, Klaus och Sunny Baudelaire vars föräldrar dör tragiskt och plötsligt i en eldsvåda, vilket bara är den första i en lång rad otursamma händelser som förföljer syskonen under seriens gång.”

Plötslig? Säg den eldsvåda som inte är det... Otursam?! Varför har efternamnet Baudelaire valts? På grund av Ondskans blommor? Trots att den sarkastiska bok-serien ursprungligen riktade sig till en vuxen målgrupp, har den blivit oerhört populär bland barn i nedre tonåren och sägs sammantaget ha sålts i över 65 miljoner exemplar. 

Kanske är detta rop i natten helt enkelt det fjortonde avsnittet, en uppföljare till serien? Har syskonen Baudelaire möjligen funnit att mamma trots allt överlevt branden? Men att sonen som fått smak på friheten i föräldralösheten nu ångrar att de letat efter föräldrarna?

Jag tror inte det, men vad tror du? Vem i hela världen kan man lita på?

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