dealing with the parents (again)
I spent a week with my parents in Houston. It's certainly the best parental visit I've made since I moved out in 1996. I was less confrontational, less easily annoyed, and more responsive to them than I've ever been (at least as a teenager or adult). Who knows why? Probably some combination of time, getting back into cognitive-behavioral therapy work, a less unhappy job situation, my parents becoming more understanding themselves, seeing my friends being all adult and remembering that I'm an adult too, and depression and fatigue that transformed into a marginally more benign I-don't-give-a-fuck-ness.
Some things that happened:
* I'm extremely tired and working to fix some horrible Windows screwup on my mother's computer. She's trying to talk to me and I'm being pretty sullen, as I often am when visiting them. I asked myself, how would I feel if I was trying to talk to someone I loved and they were acting this way? Even if I didn't think it was about me? If I'm going to try to be nice to them, I might as well also try not to exude nonverbal disapproval.
* I'm telling my parents about some of the research I do, and my father is using his "I'm awfully clever" tone and asking if we'd ever considered that people who sign up for studies might be different from the general population, or that people doing surveys might be telling us what they think we want to hear. It always bugs me when smart but ignorant laypeople assume that psychologists have never given ten seconds of thought to methodology. But heck, I realized, I should stop to appreciate that our lay audience is capable of taking repetitive potshots at us -- it means that they're thinking about human behavior and issues of empirical testing, which means that they're being scientists too! (this is more about the general issue of publicizing science than about my father, who actually is a scientist engineer).
* I get worked up when my parents warn me about silly things ("make sure not to drop that plate," "don't spill hot oil on yourself"). It starts me thinking "they treat me like I'm incompetent! They don't trust me to do anything!" But actually, they trust me to answer complicated scientific questions for them, to give them advice on important medical issues for other family members, and to fix their computers no matter how badly Windows mucks them up. So it would seem they think of me as a wise and accomplished scholar who has trouble tying his shoelaces. When you think about it that way, it's really pretty funny.
Also, parents worry about their kids. I suspect that they tell me to be careful because they feel so awful about the idea of seeing me hurt. It's more about how much they care for me than how dexterous they think I am.
Also, to be fair, I actually couldn't tie my shoes until I was eight or nine years old.
* Sometimes my parents really do catch me doing something stupid ("don't cut towards your hand"). That gets me even more worked up, and I often ignore their advice and make a dismissive and kind of insulting reply. So let's see... I feel a need to assert that I'm a mature, competent adult, not some stupid kid... so I become petty and defiant, and refuse to do the thing a competent adult would do so I don't have to admit I made a mistake. This time I made an effort to reach for the things mature adults actually do, like take good advice when it's offered, and try not to cut their fingers off.
* I was taking my UM diploma home, and mom said said dad wanted to give me a hard case to carry it in. I told her I absolutely didn't want another piece of luggage to haul around, and I was already holy shit is that a metal briefcase with a combination dial and the latches that flip up on their own when you press a button? I'm totally going to be a secret agent!
Some things that happened:
* I'm extremely tired and working to fix some horrible Windows screwup on my mother's computer. She's trying to talk to me and I'm being pretty sullen, as I often am when visiting them. I asked myself, how would I feel if I was trying to talk to someone I loved and they were acting this way? Even if I didn't think it was about me? If I'm going to try to be nice to them, I might as well also try not to exude nonverbal disapproval.
* I'm telling my parents about some of the research I do, and my father is using his "I'm awfully clever" tone and asking if we'd ever considered that people who sign up for studies might be different from the general population, or that people doing surveys might be telling us what they think we want to hear. It always bugs me when smart but ignorant laypeople assume that psychologists have never given ten seconds of thought to methodology. But heck, I realized, I should stop to appreciate that our lay audience is capable of taking repetitive potshots at us -- it means that they're thinking about human behavior and issues of empirical testing, which means that they're being scientists too! (this is more about the general issue of publicizing science than about my father, who actually is a scientist engineer).
* I get worked up when my parents warn me about silly things ("make sure not to drop that plate," "don't spill hot oil on yourself"). It starts me thinking "they treat me like I'm incompetent! They don't trust me to do anything!" But actually, they trust me to answer complicated scientific questions for them, to give them advice on important medical issues for other family members, and to fix their computers no matter how badly Windows mucks them up. So it would seem they think of me as a wise and accomplished scholar who has trouble tying his shoelaces. When you think about it that way, it's really pretty funny.
Also, parents worry about their kids. I suspect that they tell me to be careful because they feel so awful about the idea of seeing me hurt. It's more about how much they care for me than how dexterous they think I am.
Also, to be fair, I actually couldn't tie my shoes until I was eight or nine years old.
* Sometimes my parents really do catch me doing something stupid ("don't cut towards your hand"). That gets me even more worked up, and I often ignore their advice and make a dismissive and kind of insulting reply. So let's see... I feel a need to assert that I'm a mature, competent adult, not some stupid kid... so I become petty and defiant, and refuse to do the thing a competent adult would do so I don't have to admit I made a mistake. This time I made an effort to reach for the things mature adults actually do, like take good advice when it's offered, and try not to cut their fingers off.
* I was taking my UM diploma home, and mom said said dad wanted to give me a hard case to carry it in. I told her I absolutely didn't want another piece of luggage to haul around, and I was already holy shit is that a metal briefcase with a combination dial and the latches that flip up on their own when you press a button? I'm totally going to be a secret agent!