Monday, June 11, 2012

Ironies






- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"Irony is just honesty with the volume cranked up." George Saunders

Okay, I cheated, and looked for clever quotes online to start my piece today.  Ah, the irony of that!  Blogging is about creative writing, right? And here I am lifting someone else’s cleverness. I don’t even know if George Saunders actually said this, or from what piece it’s from. But I’ve been thinking a lot about irony these days:
  • I hate, hate, hate snot. I don’t like anything of the sticky, slimy consistency of nasal discharge, including slugs. Just typing this is giving me the gag reflex.  YET!   I have a kid who produces so much mucus that she has her own suction machine.  After a year, I am finally able to use the machine and empty the waste bucket. 
  • I love spring and lilacs and the budding of nature, and my daughter and I have really bad allergies to all the pollen and stuff floating in the air right now. 
  • I want nothing more than to be loved and love, and yet I often do everything possible to jeopardize such loving.  Picture a cornered angry cat with her claws fully extended and ready to tear your eyeballs out, and you get a picture as to how easy it is for me to accept love.
  • I have struggled with depression most of my life.  Ha! The joke is on me when I became a mother--I have a daughter who has a serious illness that would set any normal functioning human over the edge of despair.  How funny!
  • Unlike many expecting mothers of twins, I was thrilled that I would have two kids at once. Poof! Instant family.  However, I can’t help feel as if I got cheated out of the twin experience. Gotcha!
  • My own mother has always been a little odd and off kilter; she’s a little too anxious and a lot too angry.  Recently we just got the official notice that she has Alzheimer’s, and it’s hard to say exactly when her dementia set in.
  • I’ve always been a little queer, out of the ordinary, and yet I so desperately want to belong to a larger, meaningful tribe.  I make decisions that probably set me apart from others—too cerebral, too cynical, too scared, too fat, too funny, too whatever! 
  • My daughter Sylvie cannot speak or move, yet she is super smart. Unfortunately, there is no test for her intelligence because everything is dependent on verbal and or motor skills.
  • I typically think of myself as an extrovert and someone who likes a lot of people around; it’s virtually impossible that a day goes by that a Personal Care Assistant, a nurse, a case manager or someone else for my daughter is not in my house.

The incongruity between my actual life and my expected life is just full of irony. Sometimes I think my sick humor gets me through each day.  Most of the time it’s a pretty good shield; it keeps things interesting, but sometimes I wish there was a little more predictability or regularity. But I would probably get bored at this point in my life…… 

Kirsten is officially on summer holiday from being a professor of Communication Studies at the State University of New York.  She is the mom of gorgeous and smart two 6-year daughters who are no longer in kindergarten!

4 comments:

  1. I have always believed that to be a mother of a child with special needs, is to be a "queen" of irony. To me, there is nothing more ironic than raising a "disabled" child who is really so much more "abled" of a human being. Thank you for this honest and lovely post.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm so glad and enjoyed your BLOG, It is very informative on the subject or topic, and Thanks For Sharing this post. I have something to share here norton.com/setup
    www.norton.com/setup

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is a very good blog content writing, i like the way you desribing things, i also have some links to share.

    Agen Judi Online

    ReplyDelete