'tention tension.
we're all just looking for attention.
About a year ago, when Marcelline could talk (but not as much or as quickly as today), she would do a few things that made me know she wanted me to look directly at her. Talk directly with her. Be directly (and solely) with her.
Me: Marcie, do you need attention?
Marcie: (nodding) ‘tention.
And I would think to myself, wow, so accurate. TENSION. It’s bonkers how much tension can come between a parent and a toddler who have spent hours on end together.
But now I would take Marcie knocking things over or gently tapping on me ANYDAY over what she does now. She shits her pants. That’s right, when I and/or my husband are on our phones and not paying attention to Marcie, she’ll shit her pants on purpose. Even if it’s minutes after we made her sit on the potty to see if she needs to go.
If you think you have guilt around how much screen time you have, just imagine that x10 and also then having to clean out shit from a pair of tiny underwear* and try to get a kid to do “baby yoga” so you can effectively clean all the poop off their butt. It’s the worst.
I don’t every remember shitting my pants. Unclear if it ever happened—I’m sure I was a perfect child. But I do remember the ache for attention as a child. Some of my earliest memories are wanting people to see me. This ’tention tension.
My grandmother (Marcelline, my daughter’s namesake) died when I was eight-years-old. One of my last memories of her was when I was about six—being in Ohio, in the back of her huge sedan whilst she drove with my mom in the passenger seat. We hit a deer and went over it. I know I was wearing a seatbelt, but I know I wasn’t in any kind of carseat (this was the early 90s, whilst traveling) and I caught some major air. Before I knew what had happened, I was laughing, asking, “Whoa, that was fun! Can we do it again??”
Back at my grandparents’ home (the home where my mom grew up and then my uncle and aunt moved into), my grandmother went inside with my mom while my grandpa and two of my uncles surveyed the damage to the car’s frontside. It was a newer car (a Buick as big as a bus, in my mind) so everyone was pretty upset about the deer run-in.
My uncles looked at the dented hood and bumper, complete with blood, guts, and tufts of hair. I kept trying to get their attention by replaying what had happened. I was at the scene, so I was a witness. They should want to hear from me. And maybe they would have if I had more to say than, “IT WAS THE BIGGEST BUMP. I FLEW SO HIGH! I HIT THE CEILING! You boys should really be checking the inside of the car for the damage I did to that ceiling.”
But they weren’t looking at me. It felt like this memory of Joel’s from Eternal Sunshine. “Nobody ever looks at me.”
It must be just what childhood humanness is like. No one is ever looking.
I don’t know why I did what I did next, but my best guess is it was The Price Is Right’s fault. I watched my fair share of TPIR and there were women that everyone paid attention to…
So, in my most six-year-old, sexy? way? I draped myself over the bumper and leaned on it, like I was modeling on the car. Well, it definitely worked. My grandpa and uncle were talking and looking past me before, but as soon as I sprawled myself on the tufts-of-fur-covered bumper, my uncles and grandpa noticed me and said, all at the same time:
“Oh, sweetheart, get off of that!” “No, don’t do that!” “Get inside right now and wash your hands.”
I was mortified. I’m still mortified when I think about this… and I think I think about it at least once a month.
If I look closely at so many of the frustrating and confusing things my daughter does, it’s easy to see that it’s attention she’s after. But can I blame her? It’s usually when I’m on my phone. And when I’m on my phone, I’m probably—in simplest terms—looking for attention. What else are we doing on social media? If we’re not looking for validation/attention, then we’re consuming other people’s attention-seeking and comparing our lives to theirs. BOTH SUPER HEALTHY THINGS.
And I’m on social media, figuring how to share life in the right way. To connect, without sitting on the deer-guts bumper. Hope I’m somewhere in the middle. Wondering why validation feels sweeter when written by someone else on a tiny message board for all to see or in a text message that I re-read over and over. Trying to have more of validation come from within instead of from the words I write or the photos I take or the audio I produce or the videos I create. Reigning it in on my attention-seeking and my social media.
But you know what? At least I’m not shitting my pants.
*our friend Dave recently was like, “y’all gotta just start throwing underwear away.” and now we yell, “DOING THE DAVE RULE” each time we throw away a poopy pair of panties.
A Little Woo:
Make A Wish: A year or two ago, my mom saw me kiss my fingers and then touch a clock that read 11:11. She said, “You know you have your father doing that now, too.” It made me smile. Of course my artist dad is making wishes at 11:11! I feel like I get my intuitive nature to trust the process from my dad. And I don’t know how much I truly believe in numerology (it feels like the logical next step to my crazy-woo. slippery slope here, witches!), but I do know that I 100% believe in the power of intention.
So make some wishes on Saturday, November 11. 11/11. Speak some wishes into truth. I believe in you.
Quick Hits:
Jam of the Week: The Beatles – Now And Then.
(I will always be a sucker for The Beatles. my childhood is set to the music made The Beatles. my heart.)
(oppression is not new in Palestine—or even in America—so what Ta-Nehisi Coates saw was familiar and gut-wrenching. every day that there isn’t a ceasefire, innocent people die. the death toll is more than 10,000 now. ceasefire now. and remember that today is Election Day!)
I Get To See These Seattle Legends Tomorrow.
(excited to see some of my KEXP loves and finally get my copy of this book.)The Second Reading I’m Going To This Week.
(someone in my writing class compared my work to David Sedaris recently and I about fell out of my chair. I love him so much and am just finishing this book, which I think is his best work yet.)I Just Copy My Style From Her.
(this vibe, too. except everything is thrifted or on sale. also, love to see that tennis racquet. I joined a league in Seattle and we have our end-of-season tournament and… I’m ranked as the number one seed! out of many women who have no time to play tennis and also I’m the youngest person in my league by a mile, but still.)I GET TO EAT HERE ON FRIDAY WITH SOME GIRLFRIENDS.
(I don’t know if I’ve ever eaten at a NYT Best Restaurant in the year that it was voted. is this going to be the best night of my life? what do I wear?!?!)
I’m Obsessed With The NY Marathon.
(this video had me in tears. I want to run this marathon so bad. maybe next year? maybe I’ll scope it out in one month when I’m IN NYC WITH MY LADYLOVE ALLISON FOR THE LCD SOUNDSYSTEM SHOW.)
New Fave Online Game.
(suck on that, Wordle.)
LOL.
(I actually camped a lot… and you know what? pretty accurate.)
Wow, I kept your attention all the way to the end and I didn’t even shit my pants! Thank you for reading. I love you.
xxo,
rachel.
Loved this, as always. And that video at the end really got me chuckling over...and over...and over again. 😂