Too much thinki

Expatriates eventually come up against the ultimate question: do we stay here or take the children home? As our eldest son ventured into lacrosse and the ice hockey arena instead of the ritualistic games of our homeland such as cricket and football, the decision was becoming more crucial with every passing day.

We packed up and journeyed home. The call had gone into my husband’s old school to inform them that three places would be required and as an “old boy”, our request was duly granted at short notice.

We met with the Headmaster of the Junior School, and although there was no doubt whatsoever about the outcome, for my husband had not even considered another school for the boys, I expressed some doubt about the rigid approach spoken by this man.

We have a new Headmaster now and one of whom I wholeheartedly approve. He is a fabulous man, modern but understanding of the importance of ritual at this old, revered school. He accepts that the boy’s marks are important but doesn’t want to dwell on that fact. Rather, he talks of each boy’s journey through the school and his expectations for each one of them.

I had the great pleasure to listen to him one evening this week. Nowadays, I always carry pencil and paper with me and I felt compelled to write down what he said.

He was clear that the most important thing each boy must do was to “interact with staff”. They were a motivated, well educated team of professionals and the more they interacted, the better the outcome.

But, what really resonated with me was what he wanted to achieve. Rather than shooting for the highest marks (although essential if considering medicine or law or the like) he wanted each boy “to be able to think for themselves” and “to stand true to their own convictions”.

I applauded such a sentiment. It was inclusive, it was positive and it meant that each boy was important and each boy as he reached adulthood would be prepared to face his future with confidence. I feel particularly pleased about the outcome for my last little one as he worked his way through the senior school.

I confess it gave me pause to question myself. Had I reached adulthood satisfactorily, after all? So often lately I had listened to statements and questions such as “Is this up to cindi?” “”Better that dolls don't thinki 2 much”.

Last night I dozed off in bed with the laptop in front of me. My husband came along and asked,

“Do you want this closed?”

“Yes please.”

Yet, I could hear that he hadn’t closed it properly.

“It isn’t closed properly,” I said, half asleep.

“Don’t tell me how to suck eggs,” he admonished. “It is closed.”

I just went to sleep.

This morning, I opened the lid of the laptop to find it still functioning. The first words of the morning had been his to say sorry he was cranky but our arrangement is such that I accept that I do not think for myself. Or rather, that I think enough to think that I should not think for myself (unless he wants me too!) Some days, I am truly challenged.

This morning was a challenge. My husband maintained his domly presence in the car until I was profoundly challenged. On no level was I enjoying his company. Ultimately, I had had enough and I got out of the car and started walking. About a hundred yards up the street, I felt him grab my hand.

“No. You can’t do that.”

“You are driving me crazy,” I said as I cried on his shoulder.

We talked back and forth but he maintained his stance. He was the dom and I had to submit and that was all there was to that.

“Now, you just have to get over it. You don’t have an option. Understand?”

I could see he meant it. There was no ‘out’. I put my arm in his, as he insisted and together we did the marketing together; something we enjoy a great deal usually but something we haven’t done together for a few months now.

The time arrived for our morning coffee and together we talked. I had settled myself perfectly well by then, but only because he had refused to allow me to run off the rails. I was calm because he had insisted upon it.

I don’t know. Here I am thrilled to the back teeth that my sons and daughter have been educated to think for themselves whilst I revel in achieving the ability of not thinking for myself.

Do you think...do you think...that on some level I can justify that by saying I am standing true to my convictions? Or, is that too much thinki?