It's almost the last day of the first month of the year, and I'm already tired of 2017.
Not in the way you might think--I have not yet given up on humanity as some might have. I'm weary from the lack of sun.
I have a vitamin D deficiency, so on a good day in June, my vitamin D levels are on the low end of normal and on a cloudy day in January, they are at death levels. To combat this I take 10,000 IUs of Vitamin D daily, and any moment the sun is out I will stand in a beam hoping to soak some of it in. I recently did one of those DNA tests, and found that my Scandinavian and Scotch Irish heritage has a lot to do with this. It also doesn't help to live in Michigan, where a grey film covers the sky from November to late March.
Vitamin D deficiencies leave you lethargic, depressed and in pain. My muscles ache, so I skip my workout routines. I want to do things to make myself healthy but find myself plodding in sand, unable to get up enough energy to do anything. And that's sort of the bitch of it--exercise and getting out would help me--but I have no energy to do it. Faking energy doesn't seem to help, either. Believe me--I faked being "up" all month for events and it leaves me anxious and panicky (another side effect of a vitamin D deficiency).
I know that people reading this will give me a million remedies for this, and believe me I have probably tried them all (don't ask about my failed sun bed experience). It's just something I have to get through and when the first buds of spring come I'll be okay again. But for now I'm finding a rhythm similar to a grizzly bear in hibernation--eat, sleep, have a little wine, read some, and watch a lot of Netflix before slobbering asleep at 8:30 pm. Fortunately the girls are bigger now and pretty self-sufficient.
However, I felt a pang of guilt when my 6th grader's teacher emailed me to discuss her failure to turn math homework in on time, so her grade in that subject wouldn't be good. I felt like a crap mom because were I not yawning and just wishing that homework time was over at 8 pm, I would have noted that. But I didn't--I've been so exhausted from life that I couldn't give a rip. I hated to tell the teacher that I didn't give a rip about her grade, either--no one cares what your math grade was in 6th grade, and my dyslexic daughter finally got an A in reading so what matters more?
Motherhood is a series of moments where you feel really bad about yourself for not living up to some mythical standard. I don't know a single mom who feels like they're doing a great job every day, and there's a sense of "we're all screwing this up together" camaraderie and self-deprecation going on. But why does it have to be that way? Why do we all have to put ourselves down about being human? I don't know. These are really rhetorical questions--in the end I'll probably joke about being "mom of the year" as I skirt through another week of just surviving.
Anyway, I didn't mean for this to be a negative post--aside from my sad existence as a hibernating 40-something, I have been doing a lot more sewing, knitting and reading. I'm making my way through reading the Outlander series this winter, which has certainly been fun. The series is one of those things that's been recommended to me for years but I never found it appealing and now I'm kicking myself for never read it. I've also been sewing a ton of clothes for myself and the girls, and on occasion, a friend of two. And of course I've been knitting like a fiend--last year I finished a set of Christmas stockings for a friend that I had custom designed--no two are alike and they are all of different colored wool. One of my favorite projects ever, and hopefully they will grace their hearth for years to come.
And I've been dreaming of sunny (humidity free) days, moments by water, and warmth to bring me out of my slumber.
xoxo
confessions of a Gen X knitter
Monday, January 30, 2017
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Report Card Time
The first semester of the school year ended last week, and report cards were delivered this week.
I won't be bragging about my kid's grades. I've never bragged about my kid's grades. There have been semesters that we were relieved that a child didn't fail a class or raised the grade in another from a D- to a C+. This semester, we are relieved that for the first time since 7th grade, my oldest daughter didn't get lower than a C in a class.
Not because I don't think my two girls are brilliant, amazing, awesome, sassy, gifted and talented. No way. I bet my 10 year old daughter can contour makeup better than any Kardashian, and my oldest daughter could bust out an ironic observation on life while drawing a Manga character based on her imagination (she once drew me as a seahorse. As a joke. I am terrified of seahorses).
These are the talents that grades don't capture. These are the talents that don't show up on report cards.
What I do brag about is this:
I won't be bragging about my kid's grades. I've never bragged about my kid's grades. There have been semesters that we were relieved that a child didn't fail a class or raised the grade in another from a D- to a C+. This semester, we are relieved that for the first time since 7th grade, my oldest daughter didn't get lower than a C in a class.
Not because I don't think my two girls are brilliant, amazing, awesome, sassy, gifted and talented. No way. I bet my 10 year old daughter can contour makeup better than any Kardashian, and my oldest daughter could bust out an ironic observation on life while drawing a Manga character based on her imagination (she once drew me as a seahorse. As a joke. I am terrified of seahorses).
These are the talents that grades don't capture. These are the talents that don't show up on report cards.
What I do brag about is this:
- My oldest daughter, a collector of dolls since infancy, gave away an American Girl gift card she got to Christmas so that a chronically ill child could get the accessories for her AG doll to "match" her.
- My youngest just gave up a $100 bill she got for Christmas to help the American Heart Association
- My oldest daughter has a memory like a steel trap, and remembers facts and figures and trivia on topics such as the Bubonic Plague, Elizabethan England, the American Revolution and that time I forgot to pick her up from school when she was 8.
- My youngest can watch a You Tube tutorial on everything about raising a hamster and then apply it to make a crazy awesome habitat for her Russian White dwarf, Cam, who lives in digs that are better than 95% of the human population. Want to know about the advantages of scatter feeding a hamster? Ask her, she will tell you.
- My oldest has a heart so big that she has already decided she wants a career as a person who helps critically ill children and their families. And researches this every chance she gets.
- Both girls have accomplished something their 40-something mother has never done, and that is apply and wear makeup without looking like Alice Cooper.
I could go on and on, and sometimes I do. When you have a child who struggles you tend to overcompensate for the lukewarm grades. But I think the hardest thing you do is that you try not to steal the joy from another parent whose child's grades are exemplary and phenomenal. You tend to avoid the social media posts from gushing moms who post a picture of their kid's report cards, or avoid the discussion all together while sipping your latte at after school pickup. You tell yourself it's not their fault, that if your kid got all As on their report card that you'd probably shout it from the rooftops, too. In essence, you try not to be that Debbie Downer who deflates that giant balloon.
Because we all know that time and life is the great equalizer. For every straight A student is a kid who is colorblind; for every great test taker there's a student who struggles to find a job after graduation. We all have our talents, and like I said to another parent yesterday, no one will ever ask your kid what kind of grade they got in 9th grade algebra. As we move on in life, our talents come forward and we become more comfortable in admitting that we aren't good at everything. We just need to make sure that we are giving our kids the same message and help them plan for the struggles as much as we celebrate the success.
So to the moms with the 4.0 kids, please keep bragging. I am proud right along with you, as I know the back story to most of those 4.0's and it isn't all peaches and cream. And I'll post about my kids and their quirks. And we will all celebrate them and tell them that not only do grades matter, but so does character, talent, art, creativity and balance. Because they are all awesome and all deserve to hear it.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
The Struggle is Real
As the parent of a child with learning needs, I know I am
not alone. Thanks to social media and
the blogosphere, I see daily the struggles many of my compadres
experience. But some days, there comes
such a shit storm that you feel so totally hopeless and alone. I am feeling that today.
My oldest daughter is a freshman in high school and is newly
diagnosed with inattentive ADHD. For
those of you who aren’t familiar with this diagnosis, think of it as
hyperactivity turned inward. To look at
her she is a calm, albeit shy girl. She
is not defiant or hyper, but the storm is in her brain. She cannot turn off the world around her,
which results in her being distracted and unfocused. When this is untreated, she becomes anxious
because her brain cannot process and prioritize the information being given to
her. The result is that she melts down
and becomes immobilized—you can actually see her physically become unable to function. To add to this, she is stubborn as hell and
cannot ask for help. She has not been
able to ask for help since she was born.
This is a child who defiantly refused to nurse, refused to sleep, and
refused to learn how to tie her shoes.
She actually devised a completely new way to tie a bow, simply out of
her stubborn refusal to ask someone to help her.
This behavior was cute and excusable when she was
younger. “Oh, she’s just shy” I’d tell
people as she’d run away mid-sentence, off to do something else or focus on a
shinier object. But now that she’s 14
and looks like an adult, this behavior has gone from cute to embarrassing. Which makes me angry at myself for being embarrassed.
Today’s particular incident has to do with the fact that she’s
failing English—a subject she normally excelled at, but has become difficult
because her high school teacher doesn’t offer too many grades and opportunities
for her to stay accountable. She is
great in subjects where there is homework and an opportunity for her to earn
points—the point system is the greatest invention for kids with learning
needs. Goals and rewards are huge in our
family. However, there’s no immediate
goal or reward in this particular class, which leads to inattention and a lack
of focus. So I got upset with her, and
probably said some things that I didn’t mean, such as I was tired of having to
go to bat for her when she quits everything she starts (dance, karate,
basketball, many musical instruments, track, drama. . .the list is endless) and
that high school is something she cannot just stop paying attention to and
quit.
So after all of this, I spent all night worrying about it,
and went in to talk to her advisor. I am
not alone, apparently, and her school has classes that can help her learn how
to make lists and focus. And maybe her
meds need to be adjusted, and hopefully we can get this part back on track.
This experience just goes to show that there is no “cure” to
attention and learning issues. This is a
lifelong struggle and isn’t fixed with just one or two things. It’s a perpetual game of whack-a-mole, trying
to find the secret sauce that will work with her brain chemistry and
personality that will help her get on track.
Like the parent of a child with Type 1 diabetes or some physical malady,
this isn’t going away, and it’s a daily game of figuring out what will work for
that particular moment. Like blood sugar
gone awry, brain chemistry is that way too for many. And I feel so behind that I didn’t see the
signs sooner, and beat myself up on a daily basis that I waited so long to get
her help. Mostly because I was focusing
so much on my other daughter, which I’m getting to…
As if I didn’t feel bad enough this morning, it has come to my
attention that my other daughter, already diagnosed as a dyslexic, also has
some kind of attention problems. These
are becoming more pronounced in the fifth grade, where the stakes are higher
and the responsibilities larger. She is
forgetting homework, assignments, and other critical elements of school. Her teachers, just one month into the school
year, are tired of having to remind her of things, especially when they are
doing so much to help her with her reading, spelling and writing.
So we have a new strategy in place and I’m putting a plan
into action about having her evaluated for an attention issue. And again, I feel so utterly defeated as a
parent for passing along crappy genetics to my kids, who certainly never
deserved this kind of burden in their life.
It’s hard enough to be a girl in this society, what with all the negative
stereotypes and mixed messages. The
husband and I have done all the things we thought important with their
learning, like moving them to a private, Christian school where they get
focused attention and better help than they were getting at the other school
they were attending. Teaching them about
self esteem and owning their differences so they aren’t ashamed. But some days I just feel like I’m faking all
of it. That my own shame and feelings of
failure of a parent make me a hypocrite for trying to be a cheerleader to them. And some days I just break. Today is one of those days.
Parents of kids with learning problems already have so much
crap flung at them on a daily basis… “there weren’t these kinds of problems
when I was a kid”, “kids in France don’t have ADHD because their diet is
better, there’s state-funded maternity leave and they don’t use cell phones”, “you’re
giving her DRUGS? Oh, wow. Why didn’t you alter her diet first?” , “maybe
try the drugs, they aren’t so bad”, “oh, you work? Don’t your kids deserve more of your time?” ,
“why aren’t you on her teachers 24-7, this isn’t her fault.” When I see or hear this all I want to do is
scream. Parents of kids with learning
needs already feel bad enough, what we really need is understanding, a feeling
that we aren’t alone and will not be judged because we just want to do the
right thing for our kids. We don’t want
to live in secret, afraid that if we ask for help, we will be judged by others
who blame US for their kids’ differences.
All we want is understanding.
Since I’ve become more vocal about my own experiences, I
have had several parents approach me asking for help or advice. And I’m so glad that I’ve been able to help
them. I want to be an advocate not just
for kids but for their parents, who live daily with this struggle and some days
are good and some days are bad. Today is
a bad one for me. But tomorrow will be
good because I got this out and someone will read it and know that someone else
is out there, too. And that makes it
worth it.
Now that I got it out, I do feel better. I’m counting my blessings and remembering why
I’m where I am, why my family is where it’s at and our place in this big blue
ball. I’m where God wants me to be at
this very moment. Esther 4:14 tells us “for
such a time as this” and that cannot be more true for me than it is now. But that doesn’t mean that some days it is
perfect—I guess I just had to be reminded today that I’m not in charge. But that’s great because that means I can
hand over the responsibility to someone else for now, dust myself off and
breathe again.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
So that didn't happen
Y'all, I think I might have over promised and under delivered. I had every intention of doing a travelogue about our trip to Ireland, but as you can see, I didn't get past Days 1 and 2. It's not for lack of trying--I have sat down at my computer multiple times since I got back last Monday, but then there's this funny thing called "work" which enables me to take these trips. Then there's "back to school" and those pesky kids who need things like "clothes" and "school supplies" and "attention." Geesh, don't they know that I'm creating here??
And then there are my other creative ventures...like sewing and knitting. I was inspired in Ireland to knit and sew and create. Maybe it was the Cliffs of Moher and the natural beauty, maybe it was all the gorgeous aran-knit sweaters for sale in the shops on the west coast (right by the Aran Islands, no doubt), but sitting down and writing about it seems far less enticing to me than actually living the experience and inspiration I felt!
So I made pajamas last weekend...lovely cherry print pajamas that I just absolutely love, and if my computer would behave I could post a picture...but alas, I think my computer is also on strike and refusing to cooperate. So just imagine if you will a cute retro cherry print, made into short sleeved shirt and pajama shorts. Got it? Great.
Then there's the knitting...I finally finished a gorgeous blanket that is a wedding gift for someone who got married a year ago...yes, a year ago. Hey, it's been a year of transition for our whole family. I'm sure she will appreciate it now as a 1 year anniversary gift. No one ever remembers you on your wedding anniversary so this will be a treat, right?
Long story short, I've been busy. I wish I could get enough time to sit down and write about my experiences in Ireland, but as it turns out, "you had to be there."
And then there are my other creative ventures...like sewing and knitting. I was inspired in Ireland to knit and sew and create. Maybe it was the Cliffs of Moher and the natural beauty, maybe it was all the gorgeous aran-knit sweaters for sale in the shops on the west coast (right by the Aran Islands, no doubt), but sitting down and writing about it seems far less enticing to me than actually living the experience and inspiration I felt!
So I made pajamas last weekend...lovely cherry print pajamas that I just absolutely love, and if my computer would behave I could post a picture...but alas, I think my computer is also on strike and refusing to cooperate. So just imagine if you will a cute retro cherry print, made into short sleeved shirt and pajama shorts. Got it? Great.
Then there's the knitting...I finally finished a gorgeous blanket that is a wedding gift for someone who got married a year ago...yes, a year ago. Hey, it's been a year of transition for our whole family. I'm sure she will appreciate it now as a 1 year anniversary gift. No one ever remembers you on your wedding anniversary so this will be a treat, right?
Long story short, I've been busy. I wish I could get enough time to sit down and write about my experiences in Ireland, but as it turns out, "you had to be there."
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Dublin Days 1 and 2
So we finally got to Dublin---the oldest daughter and I are
taking a “dream trip” to Ireland for a few days. She’s never been overseas and I haven’t for a
while-plus, I felt like we both survived middle school after the last two
years…anyway let me tell you about traveling with my daughter.
The first thing you need to know is that my daughter has
inattentive type ADHD and thrives in situations where she has been
appropriately apprised of the outcome.
Which is why our trip got off to a somewhat rocky start…due to storms on
the east coast, our original flights to Dublin were cancelled and rebooked for
the following day. You can only imagine what the news did to her. She not only panicked and acted disappointed
but was having a full-blown panic attack as I attempted to negotiate a new
flight and air carrier. I was in full on
frequent flier mode, using every possible trick I had in the book to assure
that we would get to Ireland within the original 24 hour period. And it worked. But for a while there it was me on the phone,
using all my cell phone battery life, negotiating with an airline whose
customer service is awful (this is the third time this airline has messed with
me, they are dead to me now), then an airline which quite honestly never gets
the credit they deserve (Delta).
Meanwhile my oldest was quietly in a corner of a gate area, chewing on
her hair and breathing deeply.
But this post isn’t about my daughter’s medical diagnosis,
it’s about our trip! So after three
hours of some fancy footwork, we are headed to Paris. Paris! Our original flight plans didn’t include
France, so this was an extra treat for us.
I majored in French in college, and it’s been a few decades since I was
able to use it so I was kind of excited, even if I’d only use very simple
phrases….so after an 8 hour flight we landed at CDG. The air was extremely hazy, and I now see why
the entire country takes the month of August off if it’s this gross and sticky
in the city. Or, just for a chance to
fly out of this terminal….
With this lounge area….
Finally to Dublin, where we got off the plane and were first
in line to Immigration. I’m really proud
to be a ‘merican most all the time, but especially when there’s a plane load of
Europeans and we get priority status going into the speedy line. And for anyone following politics, which is I
guess the entire world, it didn’t take me thirty seconds on Irish soil to be
asked about Donald Trump…so much for leaving the states to get away from
politics!! Our driver, Michael, was so
great and chatty and what you’d expect in an irish cab driver. He gave us a mini tour as we speeded into
Dublin, which only took about 20 minutes from the airport to our hotel at St.
Stephens Green….
While I’m going on about recommendations, I’d strongly recommend Irish Rail Tours for day trips out of Dublin. Today we took one to County Wicklow…we were one of six, so it was intimate enough that we could ask a ton of questions but not so stifling that we couldn’t go off and do our own thing. Plenty of time for sightseeing and shopping!
This is where Bono has a residence….nice view. Glad my consumption of your music helped fund
this oasis for your family!
We proceeded via train south towards County Wicklow, home to
Avoca (because yarn), the Meeting of the Waters (because why not?) and Glendalough
(which is the Valley of the Two Lakes).
Wonderful little day trip up and down winding and gorgeous
mountains. We wandered through an
ancient cemetary in Glendalough, which my daughter claimed was haunted and she
could feel the ghosts around her (I think it was just the European tourists
with boundary issues). She still swears it
was haunted…and it may have been. Check
it out…
All in all a nice day to kick off our journeys around the
country. Our partner in this voyage was
a family from South Africa, and I had a nice conversation with the mom. Because when two moms get in a room it’s
likely they will talk, and this was no different. She was a career mom trying to raise two boys
around my daughters’ age. She struggled
with work-life balance and sexism in the workplace, and we talked about that
for a while. So moms in America, even in
those countries that appear to be “better” with socialized this or that, the
problems of being a mom don’t go away, and as two upper middle class people,
that maternity leave still sucked and the health care system was mediocre at
best. Not that I want to get political,
but I just have to say that. Also, they
asked me about Trump…because I just can’t get away from that either.
We are relaxing now as we have another big day ahead of
us. Looking forward to hitting the hay.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Congratulations, It’s a Girl!
So I love having daughters.
I do not hide that fact at all.
When I was pregnant with my daughter fourteen years ago a midwife at my
OB practice “thought” she was a boy, and I made my doctor do multiple
ultrasounds to prove otherwise. The
thought of raising a boy seemed so foreign to me, as would a lifetime of
sporting events and ball-throwing. I am
a girly-girl, who doesn’t like sports, camping, the Three Stooges or any of the
other masculine things that are so often attributed to the male gender. Also, my husband is a sports-crazed fool and
I figured that with a boy in the house I had no chance of ever seeing the
inside of a day spa or bookstore again.
Having girls was my only hope.
And I got two!! I
love it because I have two awesome daughters who love to help me do stuff and
make crafty things and love clothes and shopping. And because they both have different hobbies
and interests that mirror my own I have my own special bond with both. And my
husband is happy because he’s off the hook for having to coach little league,
engage in Boy Scouts or do any of those general “father son” activities. He is free to sit in his man cave alone and
watch baseball or the O’Reilly Factor or a Hitler documentary and not feel that
pang of guilt that he really should be teaching his son how to throw a curve
ball or whatever fathers and sons do.
AND he has three women who treat him like he’s a rock star. It’s a good life for him.
But I don’t think my husband expected what he’s gotten, and
that is two adolescent girls. You see, there
are things that we women omit from our description of having girls, and puberty
is one of them. It’s out of a desire to
protect the species, really. If we tell
men the truth about adolescent daughters they would find a way to never have them—look
at China. Some woman over there must
have spilled the beans to Chairman Mao, which is how they got those archaic
restrictions on the birth of girls. Someone ratted us out.
I’ve learned a few things along the way that will help you,
your adolescent daughter/s and your husband navigate through adolescence, that
moms are free to adopt if they so choose.
Listen up, mom of baby girls because you’ll want to save this or bookmark
it or whatever:
1. Get that girl a
cell phone, STAT. I can’t stress this
enough. My daughter and I will have
entire conversations about “lady things” with my husband in the same room
without even having to speak. How do we
do this? Texting. Gone are the days of embarrassing your
daughters with asking them if they need any supplies from “that area” of
Target. Thanks to Tommy Motorola, we can
now text those kinds of requests.
2. While you’re at it, invest in some ear plugs. No, this isn’t for that crazy rock-n-roll
music they are playing, it’s for your kids.
Because they can hear EVERYTHING…and before your mind goes to the
gutter, it’s for those conversations you will have that have the occasional four
letter word in them...or maybe that’s just my family. We do work in the political world so we talk
like sailors. My children are
scandalized.
3. If you want some
time away from your family, ladies, just kick off a conversation by saying “maybe
we need to have a talk about your changing body. . .” I find that this will clear a room faster
than my geriatric dog’s gas. I now have
at least an hour to ponder life, read a book or watch episodes of Intervention
on my tablet. Ahhh serenity.
4. Remember when you
were in denial? Go back there. Sometimes denial is okay, it’s to be
embraced. If you don’t want to think of
your daughter as being moody because she has PMS pretend it’s something else. I hear that John Lennon’s song “whatever gets
you through the night” was actually a song written about how he coped with Yoko’s
hormonal mood swings. See, now you’re
going to be singing that and also pretending that your daughter is moody
because that guy from One Direction left the band. Problem solved.
5. It takes a village.
That means that this is not the time for helicoptering or making
frenemies. Let go of your desire to be
Queen Bee of the yoga pant-wearing set and welcome the friendship of other
moms. We all need each other. It also makes it so much easier to keep an
eye on them. Drones are still quite
expensive.
6. This is a tip from my husband: learn to like their
music. My husband stopped listening to
music around the time “Born in the USA” came out. We are both classic rock aficionados, and I’m
proud to say that my girls know the difference between a song from “The Wall”
and “The Dark Side of the Moon.”
However, there comes a time when they will grimace when you turn on the
classic rock station, and it will suddenly become very uncool to hang out with
mom and dad. Turn on Hits 1 or whatever
they’re listening to in your town, learn who Taylor Swift is dating this week
and just go with it. I will never forget
the moment when my husband asked another couple at dinner “did you all realize that
Taylor Swift and Katie Perry are really not on good terms??”
We all nodded, of course, because we knew. We knew the way into the heart of your teen
daughter.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
I'm ba-ack!
Yep, like that creepy little Carolanne from Poltergeist, I
am back. Now with 100% less goo (watch the movie if you don’t get it)….
So a lot has happened since I last posted about 18 months
ago or so….
1.
I switched jobs, which was life changing
2.
My kids switched schools, which was life changing
3.
My husband switched jobs, which has been life changing
4.
We sold and built a new house, which I only
recommend doing amidst the above three if you have a desire to fund a therapist’s
vacations for a lifetime.
5.
Both of my kids have been diagnosed with a
learning disability.
So, yea….that has all happened. I will say though that I am blessed. I don’t mean “#blessed” in the way so many
talk about things that make them feel blessed in a pumpkin spice latte kind of
way. I mean I am blessed because through
a long journey of self-introspection and healing, I have come to the conclusion
that I’m good enough. Not perfect, not a
messed up person, but I’m good enough. For
me and everyone else. Think about it—if you
are reading this you likely live somewhere with good internet access, drinkable
water, and the money to afford a device that allows you to surf the interwebs
for this suburban woman’s blog. Did you know that more people in the world
have a mobile phone than a toilet?
So while some days are harder than others, and because of
this chaotic season of life, I have had to abandon a lot of what I used to hold
dearly (like karate, crafting, my sanity).
But it’s allowed me to reprioritize.For example, realizing that my kids need me now more than they ever did when they were babies. Trust me, new moms. I know your baby right now is a vulnerable little love-muffin, and has not yet mastered the “full body whatever” but listen to me. When your kids hit puberty, they need that love and attention more now than ever. They need a parent or parents listening to them, paying attention to their emotional health, and simply being there. It’s a different experience, being a mom to an adolescent, and it is often uncomfortable because it is a humbling experience. You might be like me and have had to relive your entire awkward middle school experience through your daughter, and you’d really just rather forget it. But God has a really awesome sense of humor, and the pain you thought you experienced in delivering that child into this world has nothing on the pain in your heart when your daughter cries because she feels like she is completely lost in her life. By experiencing this, I’ve been able to let go of a lot of trash in my own emotional garage.
I’ve also recognized that as I get older the less patience I have for things that waste my time or cause me stress. I learned that the hard way when I became physically ill from adrenal fatigue. It’s taken me nearly 6 months to recover from the experience but I’m getting there. I used to be able to push through stressful times with adrenaline surges—unfortunately I’ve learned that if you do that too many times you no longer have any to give. These days things get heavy and I have to step away—my body rejects stress like a toddler rejecting green veggies.
I’ve also learned that it’s okay to admit that you are in over your head. My husband’s job change allows him to be at home more, and I couldn’t be happier. Not just because he’s fun to be around and I love him madly, but I don’t have to be supermom anymore. I am also less likely to be the martyr about work and parenting and cooking. It’s okay to admit you are tired and just can’t even. I never allowed myself the vulnerability, and now that I have I wonder why I spent 42 years fighting it!
So anyway, why am I writing this? Because I’d like to start blogging
again. And talk about stuff that matters
to me. Like my family, my hobbies, being
a mom, learning not to lean in or lean out but to just draft some of the time
and be the front of the pack other times.
I don’t have all the answers, and I often make an ass of myself, so I’m
hoping that by sharing these experiences you can learn the lessons I have learned
before your hair turns grey and your metabolism starts to slow down to a
sloth-like pace.
Hope you enjoy my second act—I fully intend to so stay
tuned!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)