Ax’s YouTube Tortellini Pancake Diet

As many of you know, I’ve invested a lot of time and money unraveling and to some extent overcoming the sorrows of not-good-enough-itis and it’s related outer manifestations of eating disorder, addiction, workaholism, other isms. So when I had a child the one thing I wanted to give him was the ability to feel okay, just okay, being however and doing whatever.

Great news! He seems to actually feel that way. Curve ball, I’m not sure I’m okay with him being so okay so much of the time. Like, where’s his motivation? Where’s the ooomph? The competitive spirit.

He seems, well, naturally mellow. Not agitated for more more more.

And I’m saying all this after having just picked him up from Tennis camp where he won all his tournaments (huh? I don’t believe in winners and losers!) And was awarded, in front of many many people, the MVP award for the week.

I am bragging, but also baffled, because now what he wants to do, really yearns to do, is watch YouTube and eat tortellini. Like, for hours.

He used to watch YouTube’s with some (in my opinion) redeeming aspects, like science stuff or even some pop culture satire stuff. Now he seems to favor watching other people play video games he doesn’t even play. A friend of mine says this knowledge will be helpful for integrating socially with other kids at his new school. Do I even want that?  What about integrating with the kids who make cats’ eyes out of yarn?

And Evie, my evil inner critic, is like, “Get this kid a job!” And of course, she says the same about me. But we are who we are and we get to journey through this phase of life in this way, doing micro acts of service like partnering with the clumsy kid for doubles and calling people going through it to ask how they’re doing.

We could be gardening (our garden is dead), or building kitten mazes (they seem content with sofas), or writing children’s books. I could be getting that business going or getting that other degree that will help me, finally, feel good enough.

Or I could relax and make tortellini, walk the dog, call my mother, write a post, (maybe giving sunlight to my secret shames will transform them) fold the laundry, be grateful life is just not that exciting today.

I could decide it’s enough, I’m enough, he’s enough. We could take Brownie to the beach, or not, today, and it would be okay. I longed for boredom and time as a kid. I’m giving it to my son. It’s not easy. Maybe I can give it to myself. Tomorrow morning, pancakes. I’m gonna keep going.