Role Models

Our 14-year-old posed a question to the family last night at dinner. He asked who my role models were.

My wife was the first to respond positively to this question. She gave a little gleeful yelp, and started with her role model: my mother. She said that my mother was somebody she had always wanted to be like when she grew up. My wife had mentioned this desire to be more like my mother at other times, and although I wasn't surprised by her answer, I hadn't thought about it in a while, and it's always nice to hear such high praise from the woman you love about the woman who raised you.

Our 10-year-old awkwardly started pointing at me. 14-year-old and my wife grumpily were asking him to stop pointing and say what he wanted to say, but because they were speaking over each other (not to mention our 10-year-old had his entire hand in his mouth and looked like he was trying to pull his lips to the back of his head), they didn't hear him say that his role model was me. I spoke for him. "He's pointing at me. He's saying that his role model is me." Our 14-year-old looked at our 10-year-old at that point, a little dejected. My wife picked up on that one. "Did he steal your thunder a little?" she asked our 14-year-old. He nodded, and my wife continued, "Why is your step-father your role model?" Our 14-year-old's face lit up. "Because he's done a lot of things that I want to do and he's eaten a can of frosting. And he's fun." Our 10-year-old agreed with these reasons for me being his role model. These answers brought lots of laughs from my wife and myself, as well as the boys.

It's one of the best things: sitting around, talking with my family, about random stuff like this. It's really wholesome, refreshing, and replenishing.

What never was said last night was who my role model was. This happens often. Somebody will ask a question of me and then answer it for themselves before I have a chance to answer. I find it cute and frustrating, but it's not something I care enough about to make a big deal over. Our 14-year-old has very mild Asperger's, so telling him that he's asking me a question and then answering it for himself might discourage him from being social, and being social is something that he's working hard to become more comfortable with. So my mentioning of minor social faux pas isn't, in the grand scheme of things, for the greater good. Our 10-year-old loves talking and could talk all day without rest... and sometimes he does. One day I will mention to him that he's asked me a question and hasn't wanted an answer. But that day isn't today. And it won't be tomorrow. My wife's nickname (which I gave her) is Shiny, because she's easily distracted from everything. It's one of the many things that draws me to her. I like being able to talk to her about a potential birthday gift and discuss how she might feel about it and then distract her with, let's say, a jingling set of shiny keys, and she will completely forget about our birthday gift conversation, making the gift a complete surprise when she opens it. This quality in her also makes me feel really smart, as I'm able to follow her multiple streams of thought when we talk without skipping a beat. It's important to me that my spouse make me feel good, not just in what she does for and to me, but in her being who she is and that fitting with who I am. My wife fits me really, really well.

I sat there last night trying to think about who my role model was. My first thought was Wolverine from The X-Men. But I kinda poo-pooed this thought, as he wasn't somebody I really wanted to model my life after. He's a hero and helps people and is loyal and has super powers, but he doesn't behave in a way that I think betters the world sometimes. He acts too much like me sometimes-- grumpy at the idiots he has to deal with and slice with his claws. Why do there have to be so many idiots?!

No, I wanted to be like somebody who is kind, loyal, strong, caring, supportive, funny and heroic. And I realized that my role model is my wife. I don't know anyone as kind as she is. She spent money so that our boys could have gifts to give their abusive father/her abusive ex-husband for his birthday and Christmas. She did this until he sued her for sole custody of the boys without reason, which is another quality I like about her: her kindness has limits and can be taken advantage of only so long. She has never said a bad word about anyone to anyone, except for me. I'm the only person she trusts with her "mean" feelings, which she always feels guilty for having. She remained loyal to her marriage for 12 years, even though she was the only member of that union who was actively trying to make it good. She has fiercely fought for her children and their happiness, even at her financial and emotional expense, because she believes they should be listened to and have a say in making their world better. She stood up to her parents when they told her that she and I had been secretive about our relationship. She was strong enough to divorce her ex-husband and stand up to her parents and protect her children with those two parties trying to hurt her and them, and she did this alone. She supports me, my mother and step-father and her children in all that we do. She makes me laugh more than George Carlin and Eddie Izzard combined. And in these ways, she's a hero to her children and myself. Something that I've come to realize, as I have a major hero complex, is that heroes often don't get recognized. Like the public at the beginning of the movie Hancock, heroes are often shunned, or they remain hidden so that nobody knows they are there. My wife champions her students, her children, her husband, her in-laws and all those she cares about on a regular basis.

My wife is my role model.