I'm floored by the responses I've received to my last post. How strange and wonderful that writing about gross feeling dark things has brought me so much joy and connectedness to so many people I miss and cherish in my day to day life. I've received texts and emails and messages and phone calls. I'm simply floored.
The point for me of writing what I did was so that I could move on from that, at least on here, and get back to focusing on the good in my days. I first wrote "our" days but life isn't like that for me as much. Much of my weekdays are just me now. It's so strange, but it's ok.
Part of my struggle these past two years has been letting go of those early years of parenting that were SO HARD but so incredibly fulfilling. For me I've always felt like my vocational calling were those particular years from when Ainsley was born until Felix goes to kindergarten. I thrived making up our days and being in control of us four. Now school dictates most of our lives, as I knew it would, and I push back on that so hard.
It's funny because school mattered SO much to me. I was the kid with intense anxiety about doing anything wrong or not on time. At the same time, I got such fulfillment out of being a good student. I felt physically sick if I didn't get a good grade on a test or paper. I was anal to the point of ridiculousness.
And for what? Looking ahead I'm thrilled at the prospect of a very part time preschool job this fall, starting a community ed sewing class, and finally making good on my personal goal to open an etsy shop. Those jobs would all come from life experience not education. Funnily enough should I want to pursue a more full time preschool job in the future I'll have to go back to school.
Today kids are pushed so early to be so good at so many things, to hone in on their strengths and who they want to be so very young. I'm 34 and I know I'm still coming to grips with who I am and what I want to do with the rest of my adult life.
Why does it matter so much for a kid to master a timed test wen they know their math facts and just can't do them fast? Why is it important to turn in a reading log every damn week even though you've read together as a family for hours and hours a week since the moment they were born? Why is there so much busy work, especially for a kid who can hardly focus long enough to get socks on in the morning before school but who scores in the 90th percentile on standardized tests because clearly she's learning and able? Why is school so variable depending on the teacher your child gets? Where within weeks of the school year beginning you as a parent can sense what the rest of the year will hold and can feel like an entire year is wasted for you child if they get a lemon.
I'm not even a parent that has a deep need to protect my children from every little challenge. I want them to be capable and tough. I find it so hard to handle so many things. I pray they get their resilience and flexibility from their dad.
I so acutely remember my panic when we found out we were moving back to Minnesota and we had one weekend to find a house to live in, presumably for the rest of our kids' childhoods. Ian let me totally spearhead that, trusted me about the location. "I'm adaptable" he told me when I expressed concern about his long term happiness being a city boy living in the suburbs. I know I've had a harder time adjusting to being here than he has.
But I can learn from him and so can our children. It's ok to just try and settle where you are and make the most of it, especially when in your logical brain you know that where you are is pretty lucky and great. I'd rather have the kids in a school that's too rigorous than one that doesn't teach them enough or have enough resources. And? There are always options. I don't have to do things the way that they were done when I was a kid. In truth those ways don't fully exist now anyways. Life has changed so I must change too.
Yesterday I struck up a conversation with a mom at preschool pick up who has always intimidated me with her guise of perfection. She's tall and thin and blonde and always speaks so calmly and thoughtfully to her daughter, even at 9am when I know she has an older kid she's already gotten on the bus and her hair is done and her outfit is well, an outfit.
We somehow got to talking about our kids and our struggles. She's concerned that her son is making the wrong choice with friends. I told her I've been struggling with that with Ainsley as well and that I'd told her to try and notice the kids she feels good around, the ones that bring out the best in her. She looked at me with such stunned appreciation. "What a great way to put it. I hadn't thought of it that way. I'm going to tell him about that at soon as he gets home." I had a smile on my face all the way home (even though Felix was throwing a car tantrum because I wouldn't get him a smoothie at caribou :oP)
I'm always stunned myself when I can give other moms advice and actually seem a bit wise or helpful. Maybe I shouldn't feel this way. Maybe none of us should be surprised by our capableness. I've been using that word a lot with my kids lately. You are capable. You are ABLE to do anything you put your mind to.
That can be an especially hard mantra when you are depressed or lack self esteem of suffer from debilitating anxiety. BUT even just that one little step can be enough to set the trajectory in motion.
My very successful retired CEO now accomplished and respected soccer coach dad has his own mantra "If you can BELIEVE it you can ACHEIVE it." I think of this phrase often. He makes it sound so simple, annoyingly so at times, but maybe it can be just that. I can think of what I want my life to be like and I have the power to make it that way. Where do I want to go? How do I get there?
These are things that I feel lucky to have the time to mull over every now and again. I hope you have time to believe and achieve too.
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
34
Today is my thirty fourth birthday. 34. I remember turning 30 and feeling like that was such a big deal. Soon I'll be 35, then 40, then more. The years will keep ticking on (God willing).
This year has been hard. I've stopped writing almost altogether because I've always been an honest writer and to be honest about how hard life has been lately feels like too much. I miss writing though so I need to get over this hump so I can get back to it. Documenting my life used to bring me so much joy. I need that joy now.
I have always wanted to be a mom. I still remember the wintry walk that Ian and I took when we decided to start our family. Weeks later Ainsley was on her way and it was never a second thought that I would stay home. I remember wishing that I looked more pregnant, sooner. I was so elated to be pregnant. That time waiting to become a mom was so filled with excitement and anticipation.
Then Ainsley was born. It was traumatic and so fast. I almost didn't make it to the hospital in time. My newborn girl had such a voice. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She didn't like to be held when she was awake. She was happiest on her own lying on the floor. I was frantic and hurried all the time. She walked so early and never stopped running. My heart still stops when I can't find her. She is so quick, always has been. It wasn't what I thought it would be.
But we had Louise anyways. We were so thick in it and it felt like the right time. She was so easy and sweet and calm. She laughed so much, needed so little. How did these two girls come from the same two of us?
Then Felix. A perfect mix. A mommy and daddy's boy. Sweet and sensitive and strong and sometimes naughty. He's almost 5. I know our family is complete.
I was ready for, excited for, the baby years. I knew how to swaddle and feed and soothe and play. These big kid days are hard. Wrought with fights about homework and obedience and helpfulness and friend problems. It's not what I thought it would be.
Moving was traumatic for the girls. It was not normal. Ainsley's first grade teacher told us she'd never seen a child have a harder time transitioning. We've heard that a lot with her. "We've never seen this". It's especially hard when we live in a world where people gush and ooze love about their children at every turn. Instagramming about accomplishments, facebooking about perfection. There is none of that here.
I used to feel like a good mom. Now I feel completely out of control.
I was rediagnosed with depression and anxiety 18 months ago. I spent a year on medication that took my panic attacks away and let me drive again, but that made me so tired that I spent most afternoons lying on the couch while Felix played on the ipad next to me. Nothing instagram worthy about that.
I felt ashamed, embarrassed, bad.
I found a new psychiatrist this year. I'm on new medication that works better. But it's not a cure-all. Life is still hard.
This is the part where I usually stop writing and let the post sit dormant. I promised to push through right?
Right now we're...looking into new schools, going to therapy twice a week, fighting every day about every day things like getting ready for school and taking medication and doing homeownet and not lying and not hitting or biting.
Right now life is harder than normal and harder than "harder than normal". How do you take care of a hurting kid when you are hurting so much yourself? How do you stand up when you are broken? How do you make friends and connections when you know that no one really knows how bad it is? How do you get out of the fog and into the sunlight?
I'm learning that you take baby steps. As much as it SUCKS you take it slow. You cling to the things that are working and praise the heck out of the good and right.
For me right now this is the church family that we have found and the family family that we have so close. It's feeling silly listening to the guided self worth meditations that your therapist recommends and praying like crazy that they take hold. It's learning to grow a back bone and stand up for yourself and your kid, and the sad realization that not everyone is on your side. It's having the strength and confidence to know that my gut feelings are worth something and no one can tell me the right thing to do.
Growing up is so hard. I still feel so young. But my eyelids are drooping and my eyes lines are growing and my body is slowing. I don't feel equipped, almost every day, to be dealing with what we are dealing with. Still I am. We get through each day.
This past weekend we went to Big Sky, MT. My parents have a home there and we decided last minute that we needed that changed of venue, that injection of different and beauty and fun into our lives. We had such a wonderful time.
But on both sides of the trip were 19 hour treacherous drives. Ian drove it all. He had to because I'd broken my tail bone and couldn't sit to drive, but he never complained. I look at this man that I've known almost 15 years and realize more every day how lucky I am to have him, how lucky we are to be together doing this life.
I remember meeting him and hearing that voice that you hear of that told me I was going to marry him. My 19 year old self shrugged it off and those next 4 years were tumultuous but they taught me to listen to that voice.
Right now that voice is a bit muddled. It's hard to decipher. But I'm reminded that it's there. I just need to quite myself to hear it.
May 34 be a year unlike any other. Please, please, please.
This year has been hard. I've stopped writing almost altogether because I've always been an honest writer and to be honest about how hard life has been lately feels like too much. I miss writing though so I need to get over this hump so I can get back to it. Documenting my life used to bring me so much joy. I need that joy now.
I have always wanted to be a mom. I still remember the wintry walk that Ian and I took when we decided to start our family. Weeks later Ainsley was on her way and it was never a second thought that I would stay home. I remember wishing that I looked more pregnant, sooner. I was so elated to be pregnant. That time waiting to become a mom was so filled with excitement and anticipation.
Then Ainsley was born. It was traumatic and so fast. I almost didn't make it to the hospital in time. My newborn girl had such a voice. She screamed and screamed and screamed. She didn't like to be held when she was awake. She was happiest on her own lying on the floor. I was frantic and hurried all the time. She walked so early and never stopped running. My heart still stops when I can't find her. She is so quick, always has been. It wasn't what I thought it would be.
But we had Louise anyways. We were so thick in it and it felt like the right time. She was so easy and sweet and calm. She laughed so much, needed so little. How did these two girls come from the same two of us?
Then Felix. A perfect mix. A mommy and daddy's boy. Sweet and sensitive and strong and sometimes naughty. He's almost 5. I know our family is complete.
I was ready for, excited for, the baby years. I knew how to swaddle and feed and soothe and play. These big kid days are hard. Wrought with fights about homework and obedience and helpfulness and friend problems. It's not what I thought it would be.
Moving was traumatic for the girls. It was not normal. Ainsley's first grade teacher told us she'd never seen a child have a harder time transitioning. We've heard that a lot with her. "We've never seen this". It's especially hard when we live in a world where people gush and ooze love about their children at every turn. Instagramming about accomplishments, facebooking about perfection. There is none of that here.
I used to feel like a good mom. Now I feel completely out of control.
I was rediagnosed with depression and anxiety 18 months ago. I spent a year on medication that took my panic attacks away and let me drive again, but that made me so tired that I spent most afternoons lying on the couch while Felix played on the ipad next to me. Nothing instagram worthy about that.
I felt ashamed, embarrassed, bad.
I found a new psychiatrist this year. I'm on new medication that works better. But it's not a cure-all. Life is still hard.
This is the part where I usually stop writing and let the post sit dormant. I promised to push through right?
Right now we're...looking into new schools, going to therapy twice a week, fighting every day about every day things like getting ready for school and taking medication and doing homeownet and not lying and not hitting or biting.
Right now life is harder than normal and harder than "harder than normal". How do you take care of a hurting kid when you are hurting so much yourself? How do you stand up when you are broken? How do you make friends and connections when you know that no one really knows how bad it is? How do you get out of the fog and into the sunlight?
I'm learning that you take baby steps. As much as it SUCKS you take it slow. You cling to the things that are working and praise the heck out of the good and right.
For me right now this is the church family that we have found and the family family that we have so close. It's feeling silly listening to the guided self worth meditations that your therapist recommends and praying like crazy that they take hold. It's learning to grow a back bone and stand up for yourself and your kid, and the sad realization that not everyone is on your side. It's having the strength and confidence to know that my gut feelings are worth something and no one can tell me the right thing to do.
Growing up is so hard. I still feel so young. But my eyelids are drooping and my eyes lines are growing and my body is slowing. I don't feel equipped, almost every day, to be dealing with what we are dealing with. Still I am. We get through each day.
This past weekend we went to Big Sky, MT. My parents have a home there and we decided last minute that we needed that changed of venue, that injection of different and beauty and fun into our lives. We had such a wonderful time.
But on both sides of the trip were 19 hour treacherous drives. Ian drove it all. He had to because I'd broken my tail bone and couldn't sit to drive, but he never complained. I look at this man that I've known almost 15 years and realize more every day how lucky I am to have him, how lucky we are to be together doing this life.
I remember meeting him and hearing that voice that you hear of that told me I was going to marry him. My 19 year old self shrugged it off and those next 4 years were tumultuous but they taught me to listen to that voice.
Right now that voice is a bit muddled. It's hard to decipher. But I'm reminded that it's there. I just need to quite myself to hear it.
May 34 be a year unlike any other. Please, please, please.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)