Tues., Cool'ish, severe thunderstorm kept everyone awake last night
I took the kids to swim class today. Other than being rather cold after getting out of the water, the kids did well and enjoyed themselves. Right up until the last 2 min. when the chair A. was playing with squashed her little finger and cut into it a bit. The expected howling ensued and I was calming her (to good success) when a tween came over to try to help. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking this kid for trying, but unfortunately, well...
Tween: Little girl, can I tell you a story?
A: um *hides face*
Tween: A few years ago I broke this wrist and it hurt so much, a lot more than just a little finger. You don't even have any blood. You're okay. You're going to have lots of things in life that are going to hurt worse than that.
A: NO! But this hurts so so so so bad!
Me: A, it's okay, yes, it hurts, this girl wants to try to help you feel better, too.
Tween leaves.
And now I get to try to help A sort through this strange thing that just happened. A keeps telling me "but she said the wrong thing! It does hurt! It's not just a little finger, it's *my* little finger and it got smooshded SO bad!" I helped her to understand that the tween meant well, and yes, your finger hurts so so bad and so did her wrist when it got broken, but she's all better now and your finger will be better soon...when we get home, we'll put some ice on it and a band-aid..."
It really got me thinking about the "one-ups" that we do and how much easier it would be just to affirm the person's pain, give comfort and assistance, than to deny that pain, to tell them they're "okay" (who the hell are we to say that?!!), and then to add insult to injury with the oh-so-common "but at least it's not this..." "I've had much worse than that..."
Why am I adding this to my Birthing blog? Because all too frequently, that's where the all in all line is drawn. I've heard it from men and women, from those who have never given birth and those who have birthed with and without pain meds. In our society, it is the ultimate "you ain't never had it *that* bad..." You know what's different about birthing pain? It is one of the very few pains that has a happy ending, a goal, a purpose that is good and wonderful and amazing.
No one with a cracked rib ever went home with anything other than some crappy meds and a paycheck's worth of doctor's bills.
If anything, let us cherish our birth stories and not use them to degrade and belittle the pain of others.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Need for Control
Wed.-- Summer Solstice, Gorgeous outside.
My brain has been spinning around this "control" thing for a few days. It seems to be that the longer we know someone, the more we finally see their "control" buttons. Some are more obvious than others: those in-your-face pushy and annoying people. But I think most people you have to get to know for a long while before you see what they really feel a need to have the ultimate say over.
Since I'm a Stay at Home Mom, I know these wo/men pretty well and have seen their control buttons. Try telling any parent, particularly those that build up their lives around their kids, that you're going to do something against their "philosophy." I mention this because there are women that are subservient to their husbands, show no need for any control over hardly anything, who meekly do everything, willingly, gracefully, and quite contentedly, that will bitch-slap their own mother if she tries to give the kids a cupcake with food coloring in it after the mom has said "no."
Other people are different. Some don't really feel the need to be involved in the small details of their kids' lives, yet are loving and caring parents. It's not something they feel the need to control for as many reasons as there are people in the world. There are others (parents and childfree) who may spend more time dictating their business lives, the cleanliness and details of their car, or their free time and their friends. For many, their religion is something they control. Anything someone is passionate about can become something that they are just. not. willing. to hand over to someone else. That is completely OKAY (you know, with some balance and harming none and that other stuff).
We all need anchors and strongholds. We need those identity ties and those parts of our lives where NO ONE in the world can tell us what we have to do and fuck them when they try. This is my house, my family, my car, my life, my _____.
So what happens when you can't control something that is a natural anchor for you? You feel a need for a well-organized, clean house, but you work so much that you're never home to do it, or are not making enough money to afford to even replace that nasty sofa that you hate. What happens when you can't control something that you've succeeded at for years? Like a teenager? Well, in the old days, disobedient kids had their ears boxed (gah!) and in the house of my pre-teen years, my mom would punch you in the stomach while drunk.
Which brings me to an answer. When people lose control over those anchors, when they feel life rushing past them with no means of securing their own identity, their own importance, their own self-worth, they get depressed, they drink, they fall to addictions, they try with varying degrees of success to gain that control back, sometimes by very drastic means.
I've felt very out of control of myself the last two weeks of pregnancy. I started to get pretty damn depressed and negative. The long list of "can't do" weighs over my head. One of my anchors is my adult autonomy and pregnancy bites deeply into that. Wanna know why I feel the need to get the hell out of town and go on family vacation every few years, with very little fore-warning or planning? Because I have to be able to. Wanna know why I dyed my hair blue last night? Because I have to be able to say "this is my body and my expression of self." And it looks pretty ;)
Control is fluid, an illusion. But to follow your bliss, you have to identify those areas and learn to live in harmony with them.
My brain has been spinning around this "control" thing for a few days. It seems to be that the longer we know someone, the more we finally see their "control" buttons. Some are more obvious than others: those in-your-face pushy and annoying people. But I think most people you have to get to know for a long while before you see what they really feel a need to have the ultimate say over.
Since I'm a Stay at Home Mom, I know these wo/men pretty well and have seen their control buttons. Try telling any parent, particularly those that build up their lives around their kids, that you're going to do something against their "philosophy." I mention this because there are women that are subservient to their husbands, show no need for any control over hardly anything, who meekly do everything, willingly, gracefully, and quite contentedly, that will bitch-slap their own mother if she tries to give the kids a cupcake with food coloring in it after the mom has said "no."
Other people are different. Some don't really feel the need to be involved in the small details of their kids' lives, yet are loving and caring parents. It's not something they feel the need to control for as many reasons as there are people in the world. There are others (parents and childfree) who may spend more time dictating their business lives, the cleanliness and details of their car, or their free time and their friends. For many, their religion is something they control. Anything someone is passionate about can become something that they are just. not. willing. to hand over to someone else. That is completely OKAY (you know, with some balance and harming none and that other stuff).
We all need anchors and strongholds. We need those identity ties and those parts of our lives where NO ONE in the world can tell us what we have to do and fuck them when they try. This is my house, my family, my car, my life, my _____.
So what happens when you can't control something that is a natural anchor for you? You feel a need for a well-organized, clean house, but you work so much that you're never home to do it, or are not making enough money to afford to even replace that nasty sofa that you hate. What happens when you can't control something that you've succeeded at for years? Like a teenager? Well, in the old days, disobedient kids had their ears boxed (gah!) and in the house of my pre-teen years, my mom would punch you in the stomach while drunk.
Which brings me to an answer. When people lose control over those anchors, when they feel life rushing past them with no means of securing their own identity, their own importance, their own self-worth, they get depressed, they drink, they fall to addictions, they try with varying degrees of success to gain that control back, sometimes by very drastic means.
I've felt very out of control of myself the last two weeks of pregnancy. I started to get pretty damn depressed and negative. The long list of "can't do" weighs over my head. One of my anchors is my adult autonomy and pregnancy bites deeply into that. Wanna know why I feel the need to get the hell out of town and go on family vacation every few years, with very little fore-warning or planning? Because I have to be able to. Wanna know why I dyed my hair blue last night? Because I have to be able to say "this is my body and my expression of self." And it looks pretty ;)
Control is fluid, an illusion. But to follow your bliss, you have to identify those areas and learn to live in harmony with them.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Treating People How You are Treated...
June 7--Warm, sunny, 2 days past Venus Transit
My birthday was 2 days ago. It was a fantastic, wonderful day and as usual, it brought tons of phone calls from family and friends. One of those in particular is a mixed blessing...
I have a male cousin that was difficult to like as a kid. He was a bully and liked to make fun of people, didn't care if he hurt them or made them cry, hit them in the head with hard objects, shot them in the ass with a BB gun. And still, I feel bad for bringing these instances up, like I'm a whiny brat just for saying what kind of kid he was. That's what happens when someone hurts you until you cry and then makes fun of you for crying. So, anyways, he's an adult now and he's chilled out a lot, and has even been helpful and nice to me when I visited. But some things don't change...he's got an opinion about everything and can be brutal in his "joking".
When he called me for my birthday, we got to talking about my pregnancy. He had a comment about "yeah, just make sure you know when to stop! [having kids]" (insert raucous laughter here) and then it hit me: If he can be sarcastic about how many kids we have, our choices regarding breastfeeding, birthing, discipline ideas, etc. then why should I give him a straight answer about anything? What gives him the right to an honest, caring answer from me, that reveals my heart and my desire, my soul and my emotions?
So I threw it right back at him.
"Just make sure you know when to stop!"
~"nah! We can't stop until we have at least 20."
"Don't have this one in the car...get yo ass to the hospital!"
~"Oh, come on! We wanted this one in the back yard with a sprinkler"
"Don't be like one of those (profanity) women that has a kid hanging off her tit. Like some broke (expletive) that can't afford to feed 'em real food."
~"Nah. I'm gonna feed them fried chicken while we're still in the hospital"
On and on and on...
Why should I open my heart to him? Care what he thinks about our plans? Just because he's family doesn't mean I have to include him or ask his opinion. I'm not going to agree with him or change my own plans anyway.
I'm beginning to think that it's completely fine to pick and choose who I want to be close to and who I most certainly don't. That doesn't mean I can't be nice to him or talk sometimes, even laugh and visit. We're just very different and I recognize that he's not someone I would choose as a friend. It's okay to prune away, guard yourself, put up an intentional wall, as long as you also know when to take down the wall, clear your aura, and be comfortable with being your true self.
My birthday was 2 days ago. It was a fantastic, wonderful day and as usual, it brought tons of phone calls from family and friends. One of those in particular is a mixed blessing...
I have a male cousin that was difficult to like as a kid. He was a bully and liked to make fun of people, didn't care if he hurt them or made them cry, hit them in the head with hard objects, shot them in the ass with a BB gun. And still, I feel bad for bringing these instances up, like I'm a whiny brat just for saying what kind of kid he was. That's what happens when someone hurts you until you cry and then makes fun of you for crying. So, anyways, he's an adult now and he's chilled out a lot, and has even been helpful and nice to me when I visited. But some things don't change...he's got an opinion about everything and can be brutal in his "joking".
When he called me for my birthday, we got to talking about my pregnancy. He had a comment about "yeah, just make sure you know when to stop! [having kids]" (insert raucous laughter here) and then it hit me: If he can be sarcastic about how many kids we have, our choices regarding breastfeeding, birthing, discipline ideas, etc. then why should I give him a straight answer about anything? What gives him the right to an honest, caring answer from me, that reveals my heart and my desire, my soul and my emotions?
So I threw it right back at him.
"Just make sure you know when to stop!"
~"nah! We can't stop until we have at least 20."
"Don't have this one in the car...get yo ass to the hospital!"
~"Oh, come on! We wanted this one in the back yard with a sprinkler"
"Don't be like one of those (profanity) women that has a kid hanging off her tit. Like some broke (expletive) that can't afford to feed 'em real food."
~"Nah. I'm gonna feed them fried chicken while we're still in the hospital"
On and on and on...
Why should I open my heart to him? Care what he thinks about our plans? Just because he's family doesn't mean I have to include him or ask his opinion. I'm not going to agree with him or change my own plans anyway.
I'm beginning to think that it's completely fine to pick and choose who I want to be close to and who I most certainly don't. That doesn't mean I can't be nice to him or talk sometimes, even laugh and visit. We're just very different and I recognize that he's not someone I would choose as a friend. It's okay to prune away, guard yourself, put up an intentional wall, as long as you also know when to take down the wall, clear your aura, and be comfortable with being your true self.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Appearances
May 30-Wed. Tropical Depression outside. Lots of rain and wind.
It's that awkward stage (13 weeks) between looking pregnant and just looking fat. I have never been one to really care or worry about what my weight is or what my tummy looks like...the one time in my life when I did, after my second child was already a year old and I still had most of the pregnancy smoosh, I started kickboxing and working out to get toned up. Here's the rub: I feel that way right now and I can't workout or do crunches. I can't tone up or slim down. I'm pregnant and starting to show, but for now, I just look like I've gained weight and there's nothing I can do about it.
It shouldn't matter to me. I shouldn't care. I should just be happy and thrilled to be carrying a child. Yet again, I find myself wanting to skip a few weeks forward until I'm obviously pregnant. What is it with me and wanting to skip forward? I waited and waited to be pregnant and now I'm finding that I just want to skip through the first five months--not really savoring the moment, is it?
While meditating, I've discovered this is a larger pattern in human life in general. Kids want to be older. College students count down to graduation. Workers count down until retirement. We anxiously await vacation, summer, holidays, the upcoming move, wanting to even skip weeks at a time, just to get to another milestone, which will invariably turn into another count down.
It ends here. This is where I am and today will be the day that I stop counting down and start embracing. Today I am starting to show, looking kinda bloated and fat, and I'm going to stand in front of the mirror and take a picture. I'm going to fix my hair, put on an outfit that I like, and embrace my image. I am turning into the full mother again, but for now, I hold within me a baby the size of a peach, a uterus the size of a grapefruit, and because of it, I am beautiful.
It's that awkward stage (13 weeks) between looking pregnant and just looking fat. I have never been one to really care or worry about what my weight is or what my tummy looks like...the one time in my life when I did, after my second child was already a year old and I still had most of the pregnancy smoosh, I started kickboxing and working out to get toned up. Here's the rub: I feel that way right now and I can't workout or do crunches. I can't tone up or slim down. I'm pregnant and starting to show, but for now, I just look like I've gained weight and there's nothing I can do about it.
It shouldn't matter to me. I shouldn't care. I should just be happy and thrilled to be carrying a child. Yet again, I find myself wanting to skip a few weeks forward until I'm obviously pregnant. What is it with me and wanting to skip forward? I waited and waited to be pregnant and now I'm finding that I just want to skip through the first five months--not really savoring the moment, is it?
While meditating, I've discovered this is a larger pattern in human life in general. Kids want to be older. College students count down to graduation. Workers count down until retirement. We anxiously await vacation, summer, holidays, the upcoming move, wanting to even skip weeks at a time, just to get to another milestone, which will invariably turn into another count down.
It ends here. This is where I am and today will be the day that I stop counting down and start embracing. Today I am starting to show, looking kinda bloated and fat, and I'm going to stand in front of the mirror and take a picture. I'm going to fix my hair, put on an outfit that I like, and embrace my image. I am turning into the full mother again, but for now, I hold within me a baby the size of a peach, a uterus the size of a grapefruit, and because of it, I am beautiful.
Friday, May 18, 2012
Trust
Friday, May 18. Still rainy and dreary--5 days now.
It's a good thing I'm not a worry wart or a hypochondriac. There are enough twinges, cramps, pulls, and aches in pregnancy to keep a woman worrying about everything all the time.
Instead, I've had an inexplicable peace, a very relaxed go-with-the-flow, everything is going to be fine attitude. Pregnancy is natural, birth is natural, and even if something did go wrong with the pregnancy, at this point there's absolutely nothing I could do about it anyway. So I'm just chillin' back and enjoying the ride.
There's only two options: trust and worry. I choose Trust.
I think I'll be ready to fully commit my heart, emotions, and self much later in the pregnancy...it's coming, I'm sure, but for now it's just too early. However, at least when I feel the twinges and the cramps, I'm able to breathe, relax, and know that it's all normal and everything is fine.
It's a good thing I'm not a worry wart or a hypochondriac. There are enough twinges, cramps, pulls, and aches in pregnancy to keep a woman worrying about everything all the time.
Instead, I've had an inexplicable peace, a very relaxed go-with-the-flow, everything is going to be fine attitude. Pregnancy is natural, birth is natural, and even if something did go wrong with the pregnancy, at this point there's absolutely nothing I could do about it anyway. So I'm just chillin' back and enjoying the ride.
There's only two options: trust and worry. I choose Trust.
I think I'll be ready to fully commit my heart, emotions, and self much later in the pregnancy...it's coming, I'm sure, but for now it's just too early. However, at least when I feel the twinges and the cramps, I'm able to breathe, relax, and know that it's all normal and everything is fine.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Big Brother and Big Sister
May 17-dreary, last day of auditions at the high school
My dear sweet children were finally told last night that mama's pregnant and going to have a baby. Boy child was over the moon, really grasping what it means that we're going to have a baby brother or sister. He's thrilled, elated, and overall super stoked. Girl child doesn't really understand but she's super excited to help pick out names, like Helepsipa, Limma, and Beana (for boys).
I never realized how much I would enjoy sharing it with them, although I should have. These two kidlets are so important to me and I spend so much time with them, I should have known that their expressions and joy about the baby would make it even more enjoyable for me. When I was pregnant with #2, #1 wasn't old enough to truly understand...he was all of 2.5 when he became a big brother. We were doing good not to have him smoosh her head and hit her with blocks. This time around, both of them will be old enough to feel the baby move, be there right after the baby is born, get excited about names, outfits, etc. And yes, old enough to fetch me a diaper so I don't have to go searching during a blow out ;)
It really feels more like "we" are having a baby...as a family. I may be the one to carry it, but it will be their sibling, too. The added layer of complexity and interconnectedness, bringing forth another child, but also adding to the kid ranks, was an unexpected blossom of awesomeness.
Brigid's sentiments: Allow yourself to enjoy. Embrace the smiles and laughter of your children, know that you'll have to help them when they're upset about the new baby, but also know that their lives will be richer for the experience and the addition.
My dear sweet children were finally told last night that mama's pregnant and going to have a baby. Boy child was over the moon, really grasping what it means that we're going to have a baby brother or sister. He's thrilled, elated, and overall super stoked. Girl child doesn't really understand but she's super excited to help pick out names, like Helepsipa, Limma, and Beana (for boys).
I never realized how much I would enjoy sharing it with them, although I should have. These two kidlets are so important to me and I spend so much time with them, I should have known that their expressions and joy about the baby would make it even more enjoyable for me. When I was pregnant with #2, #1 wasn't old enough to truly understand...he was all of 2.5 when he became a big brother. We were doing good not to have him smoosh her head and hit her with blocks. This time around, both of them will be old enough to feel the baby move, be there right after the baby is born, get excited about names, outfits, etc. And yes, old enough to fetch me a diaper so I don't have to go searching during a blow out ;)
It really feels more like "we" are having a baby...as a family. I may be the one to carry it, but it will be their sibling, too. The added layer of complexity and interconnectedness, bringing forth another child, but also adding to the kid ranks, was an unexpected blossom of awesomeness.
Brigid's sentiments: Allow yourself to enjoy. Embrace the smiles and laughter of your children, know that you'll have to help them when they're upset about the new baby, but also know that their lives will be richer for the experience and the addition.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Sharing the News
Tuesday, May 15, Sunny then stormy then sunny then stormy
I shared my news of pregnancy this weekend. Finally, after two and a half months, I got to see faces light up, people smiling and happy for us, sharing our joy. It was amazing and fun and I felt very, very special and loved.
I've always liked spreading good news, coming up with ideas that people like. It's like a spike to my "approval" junkie system. They like me! They want me to be happy! They're happy right along beside me! I had my few months of contemplation, quiet, and early pregnancy. It sucked and I'm glad it's over. I'm so much happier being an extrovert, interacting with others, sharing jokes, love, joy, and friendship.
Thank you all for making my announcement special and important.
Now I get to all the fun of being pregnant, instead of just being an airheaded lazybutt that's gaining weight ;)
I shared my news of pregnancy this weekend. Finally, after two and a half months, I got to see faces light up, people smiling and happy for us, sharing our joy. It was amazing and fun and I felt very, very special and loved.
I've always liked spreading good news, coming up with ideas that people like. It's like a spike to my "approval" junkie system. They like me! They want me to be happy! They're happy right along beside me! I had my few months of contemplation, quiet, and early pregnancy. It sucked and I'm glad it's over. I'm so much happier being an extrovert, interacting with others, sharing jokes, love, joy, and friendship.
Thank you all for making my announcement special and important.
Now I get to all the fun of being pregnant, instead of just being an airheaded lazybutt that's gaining weight ;)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)