Daily writing prompt

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

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As a child my favorite movie was Polyanna.

For those who were spared, it’s the story of a bright chipper young orphan who is adopted by her rich aunt. She is given the bare minimum in terms of anything that is not for show. So her room is an old servant’s quarters. The love she receives comes in crumbs. The clothing others’ will see her in, on the other hand, is plentiful and lush.

The town she moves to is a dank and dreary place, filled to brimming with miserable people. Polyanna is anything but miserable. Despite her shit luck she has a shining outlook, and takes on cheering up the town as just one of her many plucky tasks.

Everyone needs something from Polyanna. She gives and gives until the end, when she falls out of a tree and becomes gravely injured. Then the town gives back tenfold.

I loved this movie so fucking much. I wanted to be her, I hope you can guess. I wanted to pour from an endlessly un-empty cup. I wanted to be the pinnacle of brightness in a dreary world. And then I wanted to get fucked up in some terrible accident and suck up all that love and pity like a drug.

So I tried. Turns out, though, no one’s cup is never empty. Pouring from an empty cup can break you. Not only that, but the reaction of others when given all you can give is ordinarily to ask for more.

Expect more.

My daughter’s fifth birthday is today.

Her party was yesterday, and it was beautiful. All our loved ones gathered. My grandmother literally kissed my belly, which sucked, I forgot that happened when you’re pregnant and I hate, hate, HATE people touching my belly, but whatever. It was lovely. Daughter had a bounce castle and all her friends. She loved it. I love her. I loved it, too.

The problem with parenting (one of them) is that there must be a balance struck with ‘no.’ In many ways, it’s a taboo word. How dare you say ‘no?’ Even beyond the child’s immature rage at being denied, there are simply many thousands of times per day you cannot say it. No, I can’t feed you right now, for instance. Terrible.

It took me so long to learn to work with a kid. To still be my whole self, who writes and smokes and is a little crass, and also Mama. Now I have a babe growing in my belly who’s gonna start me from scratch again, and is it weird that I’m excited?

Is it weird that I’m upset?

And Excited?

And terrified – no, that’s not weird, that makes a lot of sense.

It might not make sense to everyone. To me and other mothers, though, it makes a lot of sense.

What will you steal from me, little one? What will I hand over willingly, and what will you steal?

What wonders will you give back?