G-Force Parenting

I was watching First Man - a movie about Neil Armstrong. In one scene, he has just docked his spacecraft with the Lunar module during a mission in the lead up to the moon landing. Everything seems fine. Suddenly, their spacecraft starts spinning uncontrollably.

They try communicating with the Capcom. But they get no real help. The G force is so strong, the co-pilot passes out. Neil Armstrong is trying to save the mission. He is trying to stay conscious. And he is trying to figure what needs to be done.

Everything is happening at a dizzying speed. Everything is a blur. His head is spinning fast. It feels like the G forces are out there to kill him. Capcom is asking to perform some maneuver.  But he doesn’t have the bandwidth to process the instructions. He must rely on his understanding of himself and his craft to salvage the situation. In a moment of brilliance, he decides to let go of the lunar module that he has captured, and sure enough their aircraft stabilises. It is not spinning anymore. They survive.

This scene shook me. It felt too real. It felt like I was in the scene. It felt like I had experienced this before.

Yesterday, I was on a video call with my parents. 5 yo was there too. He treats video calls as an opportunity to show off something of his to his grandparents and win some wah wah. Today was no different. I could see half of my mom’s face and a part of my dad’s on my screen. They were talking to their grandson. I was trying to keep the camera centered on the star of the show, my son. I was just the intermediary relaying information, translating, and filling the gaps as needed. I was getting tired. But I had done this a hundred times. I could do it in my sleep.

Then my mom asked, “What’s going on with your new business? Are you getting any new customers?”.

It was a question for me. I had to come up with a coherent response. I was in a spacecraft. The Capcom was asking me to switch to another routine. My 5 yo co-pilot was insisting that I follow his lead and relay his messages to Capcom. The sounds from both the parties were getting louder. I tried to answer both. I made sure the camera stayed focussed. It was a dizzying circle. I was losing control. It felt like I had experienced this before. I needed to save myself. I had to let something go. I told Capmom, err… Capcom, my mom, “I need to hang up”.

The call ended. The spinning stopped. The 5 yo moved on to something else. And I? I survived.