When I have a son I will. Someday I will have

Education is a delicate matter: any technique can lead to unforeseen results. The author Svetlana Khmel presented how everything can happen:

Excellent prevention of parental perfectionism:

“Someday I will have a son, and I will do everything the other way around. I will tell him from the age of three: “Honey! You don't have to become an engineer. You don't have to be a lawyer. It doesn't matter what you become when you grow up. Do you want to be a pathologist? To health! Football commentator? Please! clown in mall? Great choice!"

And in his thirtieth birthday, he will come to me, this sweaty balding clown with smudges of makeup on his face, and he will say: “Mom! I'm thirty years old! I'm the clown at the mall! Is this the life you wanted for me? What were you thinking, mother, when you told me that higher education not necessary? What did you want, mom, when you let me play with the boys instead of mathematics?

And I will say: “Darling, but I followed you in everything, I did not want to put pressure on you! You didn't like math, you liked playing with the younger kids." And he will say: “I didn’t know where this would lead, I was a child, I couldn’t decide anything, and you, you, you broke my life” - and rub lipstick on his face with a dirty sleeve. And then I will get up, look at him carefully and say: “So that's it. There are two types of people in the world: one lives, and the other is looking for someone to blame. And if you don't understand that, then you're an idiot."

Or not. Someday I will have a son, and I will do the opposite. I will tell him from the age of three: “Don't be an idiot, Vlad, think about the future. Learn math, Vladik, if you don’t want to be a call center operator all your life.”

And in his thirtieth birthday, he will come to me, this sweaty balding programmer with deep wrinkles on his face, and he will say: “Mom! I'm thirty years old. I work for Google. I work twenty hours a day, mom. I don't have a family. What were you thinking, mother, when you said that good job will make me happy? What were you trying to achieve, mother, when you forced me to study mathematics?

And I will say: “Darling, but I wanted you to get a good education! I wanted you to have every opportunity, dear." And he will say: “What the hell do I need these opportunities if I'm unhappy, mom? I walk past the clowns at the mall and envy them, mom. They are happy. I could be in their place, but you, you, you broke my life, ”and rubs the bridge of his nose under his glasses with his fingers. And then I will get up, look at him carefully and say: “So that's it. There are two types of people in the world: one lives, and the other complains all the time. And if you don't understand that, then you're an idiot."

He will say "oh" and faint. Psychotherapy will take approximately five years.

Or in another way. Someday I will have a son, and I will do the opposite. I will repeat to him from the age of three: “I'm not here to repeat something. I'm here to love you. Go to your dad, dear, ask him, I don't want to be extreme again.

And on his thirtieth birthday, he will come to me, this sweaty, balding director with Central Russian longing in his eyes, and say: “Mom! I'm thirty years old. I've been trying to get your attention for thirty years, Mom. I have dedicated ten films and five plays to you. I wrote a book about you, mom. I don't think you care. Why don't you ever speak your mind? Why did you keep sending me to daddy?”

And I will say: “Darling, but I did not want to decide anything for you! I just loved you, dear, and we have dad for advice. And he will say: “What the hell do I need dad's advice for if I asked you, mom? I've been seeking your attention all my life, Mom. I'm obsessed with you, mom. I'm ready to give everything, just for once, for once, to understand what you think of me. With your silence, your detachment, you, you, you broke my life, ”and theatrically throws his hand to his forehead. And then I will get up, look at him carefully and say: “So that's it. There are two types of people in the world: one lives, and the other is always waiting for something. And if you don't understand that, then you're an idiot."

He will say "ah" and faint. Psychotherapy will take approximately five years.

This text is a good prevention of our maternal perfectionism - the desire to be an ideal mother. Relax! No matter how hard we try to be good mothers our children will still have something to tell their therapist.”

Someday love will come to me, as beautiful as in a fairy tale, as pure as morning dew, as bright and warm as the sun on a summer day, as sublime as clouds, as unexpected as pouring rain ... But she definitely will.

Someday I will have a loved one. He will be very beautiful, the way my eyes want to see him, he will have: such bright and clear eyes that it is impossible to see enough; big soft hands that are made for hugs; generous and kind heart, wavy dark hair; and he will love me...he will be mine!!! And I will be HIS!!!

Someday I will have my own house, consisting of several rooms, each will have its own color and large windows, around the house there will be a garden consisting of fruit trees, there will be lawns, paths, a stream, flowers ...

Someday I will be the happiest and youngest lady ... I will just enjoy life and everything around me will be clean, bright and fantastic. I will live on a blue planet surrounded by green trees and blue clouds, in a peaceful city, my whole space will be beautiful, just like my surroundings.

Kind, smart and wise people will surround me. They will understand me perfectly, they will be sincere, they can be trusted with the innermost, they will take a lively part in my life ... but if suddenly I want to be left alone, they will just quietly leave me for a while ...

Someday I will have a job I love, I will be very passionate about it, because in it I am professional and significant, confident in myself, and also ... it will bring me pleasure ...

And I will also have a lot of free time, which I can distribute as I see fit, and I will learn how to do it.

Someday, maybe I will have something else that I don’t know about now and don’t even guess ...

But! Maybe "someday" is enough!

We need to live now!

Which beautiful word"Now"!

So, now I have:

Small apartment in a big city, men who love me, live separately; my beloved children and a cat that walks by itself and behaves as if I owe her something. I have a job in which sometimes I find pleasure, sometimes I get very tired, because creativity dries up in it and routine remains ... but I can’t stand monotony ...

I work for an “uncle” who can fire me at any time ... And so that he doesn’t fire me, I have to fulfill all his requirements ... well, almost everything ... sometimes even “secret” requirements that I don’t like, but that’s how all people live ... in their work ...

Even if I have my own personal company, or would have, there are still conditions under which ... I would like to: make better money, be safer, have more freedom, relax where I like and with those who are dear to me .

To know how to live better, you need to know how it is "better" and what is "more attractive" in life.

So - I will!

To know what I want more when I rise one step above the ordinary, dullness and dullness.

I will live an eventful happy cloudless life. It's good when you have a dream, even if it never comes true.

I will fly in its most beautiful corners and rejoice in everything beautiful - after all, Joy is the same sensation and abstract concept, like others, my perception is its measure.

Maybe I will never have something…. Then I will look at the world through the green glass of my amazing fantasy world and see:

Two gray birds with yellow spots are walking near that street. They are so beautiful and I have never seen such unusual birds.

Sparrow again flew under my window and chirped, so small and cute.

On the subway, that man has funny crimson boots with narrow toes.
Two boys are playing against the clock with Rubik's cubes.

What a funny briefcase that tall young man in a black velvet cloak has.
And that girl has such soft curls of blond hair.

Something changes around if I change the focus of my review, I become an observer if I am "here" and "now".

Someday I will definitely have something else, but it is in the future, and I cannot yet know what exactly I will have ... someday.

Reviews

I like the author's writing style .... The ability to see the world in a special way is not given to everyone ... Too pragmatic time has come .. something reminiscent of a young accelerator whose body grows much faster than his mind, which causes some dissonance ... Thanks for such simple, down to earth words...

Someday I will have a son, and I will do the opposite. I will tell him from the age of three: “Honey! You don't have to become an engineer. You don't have to be a lawyer. It doesn't matter what you become when you grow up. Do you want to be a pathologist? To health! Football commentator? Please! A clown in a mall? Great choice!"

Or not. Someday I will have a son, and I will do the opposite. I will tell him from the age of three: “Don't be an idiot, Vlad, think about the future. Learn math, Vladik, if you don’t want to be a call center operator all your life.”

And in his thirtieth birthday, he will come to me, this sweaty balding programmer with deep wrinkles on his face, and he will say: “Mom! I'm thirty years old. I work for Google. I work twenty hours a day, mom. I don't have a family. What were you thinking, mother, when you said that a good job would make me happy? What were you trying to achieve, mother, when you forced me to study mathematics?

And I will say: “Darling, but I wanted you to get a good education! I wanted you to have every opportunity, dear." And he will say: “What the hell do I need these opportunities if I'm unhappy, mom? I walk past the clowns at the mall and envy them, mom. They are happy. I could be in their place, but you, you, you broke my life, ”and rubs the bridge of his nose under his glasses with his fingers. And then I will get up, look at him carefully and say: “So, so. There are two types of people in the world: one lives, and the other complains all the time. And if you don't understand that, then you're an idiot."

He will say, "Oh!" - and faint. Psychotherapy will take approximately five years.

Or in another way. Someday I will have a son, and I will do the opposite. I will repeat to him from the age of three: “I'm not here to repeat something. I'm here to love you. Go to your dad, dear, ask him, I don't want to be extreme again.

And on his thirtieth birthday, he will come to me, this sweaty, balding director with Central Russian longing in his eyes, and say: “Mom! I'm thirty years old. I've been trying to get your attention for thirty years, Mom. I have dedicated ten films and five plays to you. I wrote a book about you, mom. I don't think you care. Why don't you ever speak your mind? Why did you keep sending me to daddy?”

And I will say: “Darling, but I did not want to decide anything for you! I just loved you, dear, and we have dad for advice. And he will say: “What the hell do I need dad's advice for if I asked you, mom? I've been seeking your attention all my life, Mom. I'm obsessed with you, mom. I'm ready to give everything, just for once, for once, to understand what you think of me. With your silence, your detachment, you, you, you broke my life, ”and theatrically throws his hand to his forehead. And then I will get up, look at him carefully and say: “So, so. There are two types of people in the world: one lives, and the other is always waiting for something. And if you don't understand that, then you're an idiot."

He will say, "Ah!" - and faint. Psychotherapy will take approximately five years.

This text is a good prevention of our maternal perfectionism - the desire to be an ideal mother. Relax! No matter how hard we try to be good mothers, our children will still have something to tell their therapist.

A couple of months ago I read this post http://lucky-chaky.livejournal.com/47193.html , which made an indelible impression on me and inspired me to write a similar one about daughters and mothers. I think it turned out well. :-)
Someday I will have a daughter and I will do things differently. I will tell her since childhood: "Honey! Men only hurt. You can achieve everything yourself. Do not look for a rich husband, choose a prestigious university!"
And she will come to me in her thirties, a lonely careerist with a red diploma from Moscow State University, as they like to say now, strong and independent, and she will say: “I always did as you say, mom! What did I achieve with this? All my friends are married, with children, they are so happy! What were you thinking when you forced me to study while my classmates were dating boys?"
I'll look at her, light a cigarette, and tell her to take a vacation. She will return tanned and rested, come to her senses and stop blaming me.
Or not. Someday I will have a daughter and I will do things differently. I will tell her: "Study and career for a girl is not important. Date boys, gain experience. The most important thing is family, good husband and a lot of kids."
And she will come to me in her thirtieth birthday and say: “I am so unhappy, mom. I have three children and a fourth on the way. My friends are studying for an MBA, making a career, traveling. And I even ask my husband for pantyhose. did you think, mom, when you let me run on dates while my classmates studied math?
I will smile, take my grandchildren to my place for the holidays, and she will return for them happy and rested.
When my daughter is born, I will do things differently. I'll tell her, "Do as you please. Do you want to date boys? Date, but don't come home too late. Do you want to go abroad, study and make a career? Fine! You adult girl I trust you and this is your life. I'm not here to advise you."
And she will come to me in her thirties, a famous writer with a failed marriage behind her, and she will say: “I have been trying to get your understanding for thirty years, mother. I dedicated three stories to you. I constantly try to get advice from you, and you change the subject "I'm so unhappy mom, I don't know what I want. Why didn't you insist that I make a career or get married?"
I'll smoke again and promise to read it new book. Perhaps I will shed a tear and tell her an embellished story from my life so that she has something to write about. We will laugh, and she will go on writing, forgetting about this conversation.