Just Words

Recently, I have been called a string of expletives.  And not as term of endearment, if you know what I mean.  Not like, “Back off.  That’s my bitch.”  Although that sounds pretty icky, too.  No, this was a personal attack.  And unfortunately, this was not the first time; I have been a target for this kind of behavior since I was a young teenager.

When verbally attacked like this, it takes all my strength to keep my integrity intact.  It goes against my upbringing, really.  See, I grew up in a loud family, and whoever yelled the loudest and the most abrasive usually won.

I usually lost.

Anyway, when this perpetrator has exorcised all the venom, it is quite clear that I am hurt; I am shaky, and I avoid eye contact.  I try to keep my cool by counting until 152 because even though there is an empty space in the conversation which traditionally would be filled with a vicious retaliation, I wait for the final phrase that signifies the end of the “discussion:”

“Why are you so upset?  It’s only words, Erin.”

This final attack outrages me almost more than being called a bitch or a retard.

Words are so important to me.  My love affair with them started at an early age as I devoured any book that I could get my hands on.  I started journaling at age seven.  Blank pages made my eyes twinkle and my heart race with the excitement of endless possibilities.

I try to choose my words very carefully, and not just because I love them as my true medium of expression.  I understand, and maybe more importantly respect, the power of words.  Words express our thoughts, our intentions.  Having said that, I do take responsibility for my tendency to expect others to choose their words wisely.  Sometimes I get hurt when the right words are not used; I think that is called being oversensitive.  That aside, I do understand the importance of practicing patience if someone misspoke.  I have tried not to jump to conclusions and ask questions first if someone is having a difficult time expressing themselves.

But vicious name-calling isn’t a slip of the tongue.  It’s hurtful.  It reopens old wounds.  And it’s downright confusing when the conversation is supposed to be centered around healing and understanding.  And don’t even get me started on the confusion and anxiety I feel when people’s words don’t match up with their actions.

I am trying to teach the importance of words to my kids.  I am trying to show by example that practicing kindness is important.  And the loudest yeller with the meanest thing to say isn’t the winner.  I think the word that describes that person is a bully.  My kids know that bullying is not tolerated.  At all.  Or in the carefully chosen words of Taylor Swift, “Like, ever.”

So, yeah, words are important to me.

How important are words to you?

  

Portrait of Despair

I see someone I love very much on the train tracks.  She looks so small and vulnerable in the distance.  And all of a sudden, I see that a train is coming. It’s far away, but I can see the tiny prick of light from the headlight and hear the quiet whistle in a distance.

I start to yell in hopes that help will arrive.  I see others coming to her aid, but the temporary wave of relief is fleeting as I realize that the others don’t hear the train getting closer.

Now everyone is on the tracks, and I am instantly filled with anxiety because they don’t hear me screaming at them to get off the tracks nor do they hear this train rushing towards them.  This train is loud and scary, and that tiny light and whistle heard in the distance is becoming brighter and more thunderous by the second.

I yell louder and louder, desperate for someone to hear me.  I am afraid to get closer to the tracks because I don’t want to get injured.  I’ve been hit by that train more than once, more than twice.  And now I am responsible for other human beings other than myself, human beings that are now old enough to discern when something is not right,

Instead I continue to scream, “Don't you hear the train? It’s coming so fast!  Why are you ignoring it?  Why are you ignoring me?”

The train roar is deafening, covering up my desperate cries.  I cannot fathom how the people on the tracks cannot hear this.

I yell some more, but it’s futile.

The next logical step would be to run and get help, however, I’m afraid to tell anyone else because this train that is coming to destroy my loved ones, it's a secret.  When discussed with loved ones, big, angry fireworks explode to cause a distraction from the real issue, the issue of the train barreling down the tracks with no regard to anyone or anything.

 
I am stuck; immobilized by fear. No one can hear me over the rumble of the train and the blast of the fireworks, but I’m scared to tell anyone.

Even though the train is so close now and it is clear no one on the tracks can see it, self- doubt starts to creep in.  No, creep is not the right word.  More like flood in, and I am drowning in self-doubt.   Maybe this train isn't really here. Maybe I am the one imagining all of this.  It’s hard to stay focused on the train with all these volatile, abrasive fireworks going off all around me.

Until the trains hits.

It’s messy and sad and unbearable.

I thought nothing could be worse than the anxiety of trying to get others to listen.

Wrong.

Guilt. The guilt that pierces right through to my core and sickens me with its vileness - that is the worst.  It’s the guilt that I didn't protect my loved ones and keep them safe.  The guilt that I let my warped distorted sense of loyalty and the irrational duty of secret keeping prevent me from doing what was right is the worse.  It makes me feel dirty and no amount of hand washing will ever make it go away.

 
Only time seems to make the guilt slowly fade away, and I start to feel hopeful that I may start to feel normal.  I do normal things, like brush my teeth, brush my kids’ teeth, make meals, and do laundry.

But when it’s quiet, I find that guilt slowly undulates into anger and back into guilt.

When I am exhausted from the raging course of my emotions, I lay still in hopes that it is peace that emerges from the dark waters.

But right now, that is not the case.  I am left with steady flow of despair which constantly erodes my sense of well-being.    

The Flip Side

 ** Before I get into the post, I just want to send everyone a deep, sincere thank you for voting for me on Skinny Scoop’s Top 25 Mom Bloggers of 2012. I came in fourth place!  I am so excited.  Thanks, everyone, for your support!**

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Did I ever tell you the time I almost shut my blog down?

It was this winter, and we were sick for three months.  Raising kids takes a lot of energy, but taking care of them when they are sick leaves little energy for anything else.  (Especially since they were really good at sharing their germs with me).  I was becoming so emotionally drained that I was starting to feel depressed.

But I grit my teeth and pushed on through with maintaining my blog.  I was determined to not give up on something that brings me so much joy.

Determination: it’s one of my best traits.  It helped me get through this winter.  It helps me make the best, most informative choices I can make when raising my kids (especially when it came to their various health issues).

Determination has seen me through the not-so-good times in my marriage and has not allowed me to give up on myself and my dreams.

Determination has served me well.

Until it doesn’t.  Because the flip side of determination is stubbornness.

For every time determination has helped me, stubbornness has bit me in the ass.  Hard.  (And not in a 50 Shades of Grey kind of way.  Ew).

Like the time I was *not* going to leave target without a bike helmet for Marie.  An employee from the Electronics Department knew absolutely nothing about fitting bike helmets.  When he told me they were by age, I quickly cut him off because that is not always the case.  He replied by telling me to Google it. 

Google it?!  I may have communicated in a somewhat assertive manner that he should do more to help me.  And next thing I know, I am being followed by Target security detail.

Or the summer after I graduated college and was teaching summer school English to a bunch of 18-20 year olds.  (Note: I was only 21 years old).   I was going to follow the rules and teach my favorite subject.  I was enthusiastic!  I was excited!  I was determined to be successful!

Until one student didn’t follow the rules and was about to fail which, in turn, would have delayed his graduation date .  Instead of just making up the work, he took the most *logical* step: he threatened to kill me.

Or the time when I was getting too comfortable around a difficult family member and I let my boundaries get a little soft and mushy.  I was determined to make this relationship work.  People were counting on me, for Christ’s sake!

Determination got in the way of reality.  And when reality checked in, it checked in hard.  And loud.  And nasty.  I knew the situation could be compared to a ticking time bomb.  But determination flipped into stubbornness and I made a bad choice.

Determination is like a super power and should be only used for good.  And wisely.

I walk a fine line between determination and stubbornness.  The good side of the trait has given me strength I didn’t know I had, yet the flip side has taken me down some very dark paths.

Do you teeter between a positive trait and the dark flip side?

Edge of Civility – My Thoughts on Facebook

I love social media.  LOVE. IT.

Obviously, right?  I blog.  I use Facebook and Twitter to promote my posts and connect with readers.

I use Facebook to check in with my close (and not so close) friends and family.

To some, it might seem like I share everything, but that is not true.

As much as I love social media, I am old-fashioned girl at heart.  I still believe that a phone call is the best method to deliver important news to my inner ring of family and friends.

If I am close to you (or as I perceive to be close as in by law or by blood, which my perception might be the root problem), and I find out on Facebook that you are pregnant, a new mom, married, divorced, moving and/or dead, I will be upset.  Probably more like hurt since I have just found out in front of the whole internet that our relationship is totally not what I thought it was.

When it comes to important stuff like that, I still believe a courtesy call is best before making an announcement on social media platforms.  If I have a big personal announcement to make, I like to treat Facebook as a press release to my 170+ friends.  If it’s big and I perceive our relationship to be one that is close in nature, I will call you first to spare you the shock and/or humiliation that you “found out on Facebook.”

I just don’t think that the person I graduated from high school who I never talked to then but somehow are friends now should find out something personal at the same time and in the same manner as my mother, my close friend, or my husband.  

Social media is great, but boundaries and respect and, most of all, manners are essential.  I feel that the Over-Sharer or the Attention-Seeker or Cryptic-Message Sender abuse their Facebook right and are in breach of the common courtesy contract that we as all humans share. (Or should share.  Or what I believe is common courtesy.  Which again, my perception might be the real issue here).

Some people play it too close to the edge of civility where their social media updates are concerned.  It’s upsetting.  . .yet like a train wreck, I cannot look away.

So let me ask you this:

View this question on Skinnyscoop

 Have a great weekend!

Joy and Hope

I know that I’ve been going on and on about how fun summer has been so far, like how I have been serving goldfish crackers and apple juice on the lido deck and going to the pool and the park and whatever else we can cram in a summer day.
And that is all true, but I have to say that there is this app running in the background, draining my batteries. It’s something I’ll probably struggle with forever. And that, my friends, is creating and maintaining personal boundaries. (I would say *maintaining* is the key word, no?)  I have talked about it here, here, here, and here to name just a few.


I guess any true and lasting change takes time. I can’t rewire my brain in the course of six months or a year or even two. It takes diligence and discipline.

I find that my regression happens around certain people and events. It’s like I’m clicking along on the self-respect train, doing alright, and then a roadblock suddenly sneaks up and tries to derail all the work that I have done. And as Sir Topham Hatt would say, “You are causing confusion and delay.”

What can I say? Bad habits are hard to break.

But sometimes, in the midst of slow progress, moments of light and love shine through, moments that I would not otherwise have the joy of experiencing if I hadn’t redirected my intentions. In these moments I realize that my hard work is worth it, that I have made real progress, and that I do have the power to make healthy changes in my life.

I recently read an article in a magazine that talked about energy and how a person only possess so much of it; therefore, it’s imperative to practice caution where the energy is spent.

If I stop dwelling on the negative and trying to make situations into something they are not and never will be, there’s room for genuine happiness and joy.

It seems easy enough, right?

Maintaining boundaries is something I will be working on for a very long time and I will have bad days, but when I experience these moments, I am filled with not only joy, but hope.

Joy and hope. . . not a bad way to start off the holiday weekend.

Have a great weekend, everyone!!

Feel Good Friday – “Thinking of You”

Check out The Girl Next Door Grows Up!

This week started off really good! I did my first guest post for Erika at The Girl Next Door Grows Up. I felt so honored that she wanted me to write something for her blog. Being a Stay-At-Home-Mom, I don’t receive a lot of recognition for much of anything. I mean, I don’t expect The Babes to say, “Thanks for making this delicious lunch of cheese, bread, and crackers with a side of fruit.” Harrington does say things like “Bathroom look great!” or “Wow! You did five loads of laundry in one day? You are awesome!”

Although it’s thoughtful, receiving a compliment on my ability to use cleaning products and a rag does not give me the same charge of excitement as someone liking my writing.

So, thank you, Erika! That definitely put a spring in my step!

I got another little boost in the form of a text this week.

To make a long story short, I have a fear of raw chicken. I am known throughout my circle of friends and family for this crazy fear. (But just so you know, I have devoted these next eleven months to getting over this. Because it was getting out of hand. A post for another time).

So my friend texted me, “Cooking chicken. Thinking of you.”

We went back and forth, and she told me we could practice on the two organic chickens in her freezer and drink some wine.

How sweet is that?! Something about that just struck me as so kind. Friendships become tricky when you add the motherhood factor into the mix, so often times, I (and I assume other mothers as well) don’t get a lot of face time with friends. So when I get a text like that, it means the world to me.

In that same vein, my favorite Anonymous poster (otherwise known as Aunt Diane) sent me the greatest “just because” card. Maybe you’ve seen it. There’s a woman dancing on it saying that when she’s president everything will be decided in a dance-off. Then the inside of the card says, “You’re going to be my vice president so better start practicing your moves.” Then she wrote that she saw this card and thought of me.

For no reason. Just thought of me.

I feel there are some tectonic shifts occurring in the foundation of my support system. It’s sad and happy, scary and exciting.

Either way, when I get little rays of sunshine during this foggy time, I feel a lightness that I haven’t felt in a long, long time.

Have a great weekend!

Hermy the Elf is a Genius

I’m in a funk.

It started out first as wanting to rest after the holidays.

Well, that was three weeks ago, and I still don’t want to get off the couch. This cozy-let’s-drink-coffee-and-hot-cocoa-and-cuddle-and-watch-tv-all-day feeling has turned into I-think-my-brain-might-be-turning-into-oatmeal-and-not-the-hearty-old-fashioned-oats-kind-but-the-nutrion-depleted-instant –kind feeling.

And because winter’s cozy feeling is so cunning and sneaky, I can’t quite remember which came first: am I sad because I am not doing anything? Or am I not doing anything because I am sad.

I think I can say both.

The holidays and all their shenanigans totally sucked my will to live. So I think what started out as recovering from a rough couple of weeks has turned into a self-reflection marathon in which I have had to come to terms with a few things.

Relationships can be a bitch. They can be messy, difficult, and confusing. But when they start to be more frustrating than supportive . . . what do you do?

And why should I care if it’s not with the three people with whom I am legally bound (that kind of sounds like I may be talking about sister wives, but I am talking about Harrington and The Babes. Note to self: you may be too emotionally invested into Big Love).

And then I read this in Elizabeth Gilbert's book, Committed, in which she quotes psychologist Carol Gilligan, “Women’s sense of integrity seems to be entwined with an ethic of care, so that to see themselves as women is to see themselves in a relationship of connection.” Banks goes on to talk about how this “fierce instinct for entwinement” can cause women to “make bad choices” for the “greater good.”

Now the context of this passage is marriage, but I can totally apply it to my life and choices I have made in other relationships. I mean, who hasn’t put their self-worth aside or done something that they felt was in the complete opposite direction of their inner-compass in order to keep a relationship from derailing?

Me. Anyone else?

If so, then let’s all meet on the Island of Misfit Toys from the Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer movie. Because Hermy the Elf? You know the one who dared to follow his own happiness? He speaks such sweet truth:

Why am I such a misfit?
I am not just a nit wit!
They can't fire me.
I QUIT!
We may be different from the rest
Who decides the test
Of what is really best?
We're a couple of misfits
We're a couple of misfits
What's the matter with misfits
That's where we fit in!

So screw this feeling of ickiness. I’m supposed to be on the Bringing the Happy Back World Tour Bus. And this is not OK.


So today I got my ass out of bed early and did yoga and even left the house to go to Target. And you know what? I feel better.

And then I found this status update that totally inspired me:

In life there's gonna be times when you're feeling low...and in your mind insecurities seem to take control..we start to look outside ourselves for acceptance and approval. We keep forgetting that the one thing we should know is...Don't be scared to fly alone..Find a path that is your own..love will open every door..Don't hold back and always know...All the answers you will unfold
Christina Aguilera

I rather be a misfit than a dead, heartless robot that goes about pins her happiness on others. That. Never. Works. Ever.

So what demons are you wrestling with today?


Tune in tomorrow where I have a light and fun post about a review I will be doing soon! Yea!

Whole Living 28-Day Challenge: The Stress Log Assignment

Alternatively titled: Finally, Something I Can Do Without Feeling Like a Big, Fat Failure!

Here’s another update of the Whole Living 28-Day Challenge. (And in case you missed my report of the first day, read this). We have to keep a stress log of all the things that stress us out. Clues to this would be muscles tightening, breathing quickly, etc.

At first, I thought, “How silly! Of course I know what stresses me out! I’m a vent-er, not a bottle-er.”

And then I remembered last year when I woke up and couldn’t open my mouth because I had been clenching my jaw so tightly at night.

And then there was the time I broke out in a huge rash, and the dermatologist asked me if I was allergic to anything. I giggled nervously and answered, “My life.”

He didn’t laugh.

And then there’s all the times my mother tells me to stop hunching my shoulders up all the time.

So, OK, there may be a *few*things that get me all keyed up.

Instead of droning on and on and on, I think it can be boiled down to one word: relationships.

Nothing stresses me out or makes me loose more sleep than relationships.

I’ve discussed my mission here many o’ times about personal boundaries and healthy relationships.

And for the most part? I am doing better. Much better.

But it still stresses me out because I think I assume too much responsibility. Not in a I-want-to-control-EVERYTHING-I-will-make-this-work kind of way. More in a relationships-are-important-to-me-I-want-them-in-my-life kind of way.

So the issue lies somewhere between what I want and what people are able to give.

So this year? This is the year I make peace with that issue. Because my goal is to find more Happy. And I can’t find Happy if I am still hanging out with Frustration and Disappointment, now can I? And even though Frustration and Disappointment are not fun to hang out with, breaking up with them is hard. Remember that boyfriend that you knew was no good, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to make the break official because you rather be miserable than be alone?

Well, I know miserable. And miserable can, in the wise words of Kathy Griffin, suck it!

But this kind of change takes time and a lot of work. So thankfully, this challenge has built in some time for yoga and breathing. Hopefully, by the end of the twenty-eight days, it will be a new habit.

And besides, when I take a good look around, I’m not really alone.

So let me ask you: What kind of misery are you hanging on to? What do you do to find happiness?

The Year-End Review

For those who celebrate Christmas, I hope you had a nice holiday. Mine was good . . . for the most part. However, I am not ready for a postmortem post about all the merriment. See, we did some things differently this year. And some of it went really, really well. And other things didn’t quite happen as I had envisioned. Or even a mediocre alternative. Stay tuned for another post.

 

So moving forward (to give me time to process Christmas), I am doing The Year-End Review that I found at Whole Living by Sarah Susanka , the author of The Not So Big Life. (And I will also be attempting The Whole Living Action Plan 28-Day Challenge starting Monday. I. am. nervous. Check out these recipes!! Stay tuned for more posts about that. And please feel free to join me in this challenge. I’d love the company).


And here I present to you my Year-End Review:

THE PAST YEAR
How have you spent your time?

I have spent the majority of my time taking care of The Babes

 

• Meeting their basic needs.
• Molding their young minds into kind-hearted human beings. (Oooh, that sounds simple, but those on the front lines of motherhood know that this is no easy task. If it was, therapists would be out of business).
• Cultivating a relationship between The Babes. (It seems to be working).

 

You know what's so great about this?
 I didn't even ask them to pose.

Marie had just fallen off the broom and
wanted to be sure Thomas didn't.

Playing alone.  Without me to moderate.

Pretend sleepovers.

 

I have also been really working on writing and my blog.

• Thank you much, Mommy Wants Vodka and your concept of Bringing Aunt Becky Back. You have helped me brush the dust off and wipe the sleep from my eyes. And guess what? I am still here. Different, but here.

 

What are you grateful for?

• For my Babes and all they have taught me about being a good person.
• Writing and blogging. It has done wonders for my self-confidence. Also all the wonderful people I have connected with, all by putting myself out there.
• BlogHer 10, thank you for showing me all the wonderful things that can happen with blogging and writing.

 

What were your sorrows/disappointments?

There has been a lot of disappointment surrounding some of my personal relationships.

• “No” is a powerful word. And sadly, some “relationships” cannot withstand “no.”
• Some relationships were not what they appeared to be.
• When I was busy pouring myself into certain relationships, I failed to notice I was the only one showing up.

 

Cold hard truth: one person cannot carry the weight of a healthy relationship.

 Sad? Yes, I have cried buckets. However, it is . . . freeing, you know, not to feel drained.

 

What books, films, etc. moved you?

• Eat Pray Love moved me (The book, not the movie . . . although the scenery in the movie was beautiful). . Have you ever read something and felt like someone took the words right out of your head and displayed them elegantly on the pages for you to read? This was that book for me. Minus the divorce and travel.

• Also Princess and the Frog. (I can hear your snickers, you know.) The message of balance between career and personal life is priceless. Also, The Babes and I bonded over the CD (especially on the trip to BlogHer10). And Thomas insists that I sing “Down in New Orleans.” Every night. At LEAST three times before I put him in his crib.

 

THE PRESENT

How are you different from the way you were a year ago?

• I understand me better.
• Better understanding of my personal boundaries and limits.
• More confident as a mother.
• Definitely understand the importance of fueling up my tank with healthy things that make me feel good, like writing, yoga, and exercising. I used to look at these things as a luxury, but now a necessity.

How can you integrate the lessons of the past year?

• Honor my personal boundaries and limits.
• Not feel guilty when I make a choice in the best interest of my family, and someone does not like it.

 This is hard. I think it all boils down to quieting the external noise and focusing on my instincts. And when people are not happy (especially when they hear the word “no”), they make a. lot. of. noise. But those instincts of mine? Rarely wrong.

 

Is there anything you’re trying to force into existence right now? If so, what would happen if you stopped?

• Yes. See above about personal relationships. I am pretty sure that if I stopped forcing certain relationships to be what I thought they were, I would eventually be happier.

• And everything is better when I am happy.

 

 

THE FUTURE

What do you want to focus on in the coming year?

• Be the best mother I can be.
• More date nights with Harrington.
• Keep on writing and blogging.
• More yoga.
• Focusing on the healthy relationships.
• Find more like-minded people who share my values.

Simply put, I want to be the best version of myself. I think only good can come of that, right?

 

 

So, Friends, where have you been in 2010? Where are you going?

 

And if you are interested in doing the 28-Day Whole Living Action Plan, let me know. I could use some team spirit. *spirit fingers*

 

A Word About Relationships and the Holidays

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving! My celebrations with my family and Harrington’s family were great! There was lots of good food and fun to be had by all.

Even though it was great, I did start thinking about why this time of year can be kind of depressing . . . especially when it comes to relationships.

During the year, I think it’s easier to ignore how relationships really are and easier to project how we want them to be. Even though we may get clues and red flags all year long, it’s much simpler to look the other way.

But when it comes to The Holiday Season, it becomes glaringly obvious how the relationships really are.

Sometimes that is awesome. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy and cozy inside. I feel just plain fortunate to have such incredible people in my life.

And sometimes it hurts. Because various relationships that I put time and energy in all year? Are draining me dry.

The Picture Perfect Holiday quickly becomes I Want to Drown My Disappointment in Pomegranate Cocktails and Christmas Cookies Holiday.

As much fun as the Pomegranate Cocktail and Christmas Cookie Holiday can be, I often feel blurry and bloated and just plain sad. So I have decided to take a different approach this year.

Instead of projecting my ideals on certain relationships and feeling crushed when they are not mutual, I have decided to accept them for what they are . . . and let go. Not of the people, but of the hope that things will be different.

I am thinking if I let go, I will clear a space for some real deals instead of settling on some imposters. Kind of like hoarders, it’s hard to make sense of everything and cherish what is valuable if you have a bunch of clutter to cloud your judgment.

And not that I expect a Picture Perfect Holiday, but I will gladly take a Happy Holiday.

So, Friends, what are you doing to keep you spirits up this Holiday Season?

The Beginning of my 33rd Year

I just celebrated my birthday on Saturday. It was just about the best birthday ever. I started out going to my favorite gym class, took Marie and I to our yoga classes, went to the Sprint store to get my birthday present, and Bucca di Beppo’s for dinner with The Hubs and The Babes. It was laid back. There was no pressure, just . . . fun.

I thought that the reason it was one of the best birthdays ever because I got to do a lot of my favorite things with a lot of my favorite people. And I am sure that has a lot to do with it. But I think there is more to it than that.

Last year, I wrote a post on the eve of my 32nd birthday in which I focused on my thoughts about relationships. A big part of that was honoring my personal boundaries in my relationships. That was the kick off of taking better care of myself. I freed up a lot of energy to focus on positive things instead of wasting it in situations that were negative and hurtful. With that energy, I began to see a better version of myself emerge.

I focused on my blog and writing. I tried to be the best mom I could be, even if it meant I wasn’t making popular decisions. I’ve tried being a better listener with The Hubs.

At first, I didn’t feel any changes, but then, little bit by little bit, I noticed I just felt different.

Stronger.


Not that I haven’t experienced setbacks in this process, but I think most journeys of self-discovery are taken with both steps forward and steps back. Overall I feel a bit . . . lighter. Maybe that’s why I don’t mind birthdays so much. I feel a bit more comfortable in my own skin year by year.

I would post pictures, but I have one more celebration tonight with my parents. I’ll post them on Thursday.

So since we are on the subject of birthdays, I'd love to hear about your greatest birthday memory.

Have a great day!

Memories

I used to hate Change. Not just hate, but detest Change, cringe whenever things were not the same. If Change were a person walking down the street, I would avoid all eye contact and ignore it.

After having kids, I’ve learned to accept change. Because whether I like it or not, it’s going to happen. So Change and I became like Facebook friends; acknowledging each other but not really committing to a real relationship. Eventually that relationship evolved, and I would say Change and I are pretty friendly with each other. Especially when Change means less sleepless night.

However, there are certain circumstances when I want to revert to my prior relationship with Change and look away when it comes near.

Like when my Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned sold their house in Michigan to live in Arizona for six months. I didn’t expect to become so emotional when I found out, but I did. I have so many wonderful memories in that house.

Like the time when I was sixteen and home all alone overnight. I thought I heard something, and they didn’t mind that it was midnight when I came over because I was scared.

I also learned to make golumpki (stuffed cabbage) from my grandmother’s recipe at her kitchen table. I also gained a whole new appreciate for the effort put forth for our traditional Christmas entrée.

I will miss the Heritage Hallway. There was a hallway filled with old pictures of my aunt and uncle’s family. Whenever I would look at these photos, I felt connected to my family, especially my grandfather, who passed away long before I was born.

Aunt Nicki hosted my bridal shower at her house and worked together with my parents and other aunts and uncles to create a beautiful party. And the next day, I went to Aunt Nicki’s house to visit with her and Aunt Karen. I remember eating a giant bowl of cherries and just chatting with them. Something so simple, but so memorable.

I also remember the time when Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned came over to see me after Marie was born. She made homemade chicken soup and chocolate biscotti. A few weeks later, she helped me bring Marie, only six weeks old, to get an ultrasound of her head.

I remember feeling totally comfortable dropping Marie off so Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned could watch Marie while I emptied out my former classroom with my Dad. She was only 3 months old.

When Thomas was born, she came to see us and then dropped everything to watch Marie when there was a change in childcare plans.

I am not sure if Aunt Nicki and Uncle Ned know how much those moments mean to me.

It’s like this part of me and my family story is moving away, and it makes me sad. When someone in the family network moves away, left behind is a gap. I look back at all those important times in my life and realize the richness they have added to my life.

So instead of being sad because she won’t be in that home anymore, I am going to adopt a new saying. Instead of saying, “Home is where the heart is,” I am going to change it to “Heart is home to our memories.”

That house is not theirs anymore, but it doesn’t matter, because we all still have those memories with us. They have done so many nice things for me and my family that I want to show my appreciation and support by cheering them on in this new chapter of their life.

Because that’s what family does.

Vancouver Trip: Deep Thoughts Part 2

Alternate Title: I Am Not a Control Freak, but I May Be JWoww

Today will conclude my deep thoughts while in Vancouver. Because, seriously, there’s other important things to talk about like my crippling fear of raw chicken and my new favorite place. So here are some other observations I made while in beautiful Vancouver:

Planner vs. Control Freak
I have come to the realization that I am A Planner. I love to plan for things. It gets me excited. I love to plan birthdays and holidays and fun activities. I like to make sure my alternative caregivers know the plan so they know what the Babes like. If the plan doesn’t work out exactly so, that’s OK, but I think information like how many vitamins to give and what their favorite foods are is helpful information.

I do not think I am A Control Freak (well, maybe about germs and raw chicken). Control Freaks, in my opinion, like to be in control of people. For instance, Control Freaks like to push their views onto others. They see others as an extension of themselves. Control Freaks want their kids to be Just Like Them rather than Be Their Own People. I used to think they were one in the same, but A Planner is much different than A Control Freak. I believe that I am not a Control Freak because I really do encourage The Babes to independent and explore what makes them happy. And by happy, I mean what makes-them-light-up-inside-happy, not eating-a-bottomless-jar-of-cookies-happy.

I also think that the energy of A Control Freak is different than the energy of A Planner. A Planner is pro-active and wants to do and to experience. A Control Freak’s energy is more fear-based and passive aggressive. They are afraid so they control.

This is just not me.

Having said that, I am a lot tad bit obsessive about germs, especially those that are associated with raw chicken.


I think I’ve let the view of others seep into my consciousness and cloud my perception of myself. I think traveling so far away from home helped me to realize the difference. I’m not exactly sure how or why I was able to see this, but instead of trying for figure it out, I am just going to be grateful for the distance to see who I really am.


Faking It
I am becoming more and more proficient in putting on my brave face, not just for the Babes, but for others. Networking makes me nervous, but I wasn’t going to let Harrington see me sweat. I wanted him to focus on this conference and not worry about me. So after weeks of preparing for this trip and an incident of “delayed luggage” (which is a brilliant term used by the airlines for lost luggage) and the overwhelming feeling that it was finally over, I lost. It. Freaked. The. F*CK. Out. I didn’t get the kind of reaction that I wanted because The Hubs was freaking out, too. Part of it is we are both kind of stumbling around all the changes that are going on right now. Another part of it is that I have changed. I used to be that person who was the epitome of an open book.

So the great part - I am mastering grace under pressure. The bad part - people don’t know what I am thinking and then surprised if I have an emotional outburst. Harrington and I had a conversation about this prior to the trip after watching Jersey Shore:

Me: Wow! JWoww is one tough broad. She says what she’s thinking and doesn’t waver. Everyone listens to her.

The Hubs: Why are you so surprised? That’s you.

Me: I’m not that scary, and when my boobs got that big, I pumped.

The Hubs: Everyone who is that strong in what they believe in can be scary to people are insecure.

I am pretty sure that was a compliment, but the bottom line is, if you cut me (or JWoww), we both bleed. If I am going to be brave, then I need support to decompress and refill the tank. In fact, I think part of being brave is respecting personal limits and vocalizing needs. But I do get the confusion: there is a disconnect when actions don't match up to feelings. When I was a kid, it took my Dad a lot to get angry. And when he yelled, it totally took me by surprise. I never knew he was getting angry. Back then, I never understood how he did it, but now I totally get it.

So I am not sure what I think about this new part of my personality emerging. Part of me feels empowered to be in control of my emotions and strong to be there for my family, but sometimes I feel lonely.



Eat, Pray, Love
As I stated in a previous post, I said that I was going to read this book. I am almost done, and I will reserve any and all comments until I am done reading.


So, Friends, have you changed in ways that you didn’t expect? How? Why? Do you often get caught up and start to believe what others think of you?

See you for Feel Good Friday!

When the Other Shoe Drops. . .

I have said in the past that I believe what people tell me. I think, for the most part, trusting others is a good trait. I think it’s a bad trait when someone tells me something, and when their actions don’t match up to their lip service, I blame myself for the “misunderstanding.” This has not served me well. It has served me even worse when dealing with a loved one who happens to be an addict.

And I hate that word addict because it sounds so dirty. I feel it doesn’t encompass what the whole picture is to me: a disease that one uses drugs and alcohol to self-medicate. I liken it to a diabetic: both are medical conditions, but there is still that personal responsibility to take care of oneself. The diabetic knows his body can’t process a stack of pancakes with extra syrup with a side of Dunkin’ Donut Munchkins, anymore than an alcoholic who can’t process alcohol. But either way you cut it, when being close to someone who is deep in his addiction, loved one live with holding their breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Well, the other shoe recently dropped. And this time, for me, is different. Usually, I go into panic mode and wring my hands and try to wave flags to get the people to see the severity of the situation. I feel like it’s my fault if this person doesn’t get help. I get frustrated and sad and drained when my words fall on deaf ears.

For the past 15 years, I’ve always been the whistle blower. And for the past 14 years, I have felt that no one has ever taken me seriously. The person in question has hated me for this, claiming I am a tattle tale. And everyone knows, no one likes a truth-sayer. The people most affected by this situation have told me it is not what it seems, that everything will be fine. But this time, I bravely accept that this situation is not fine. This time I stand strong that what I am seeing is not going to get better on its own. This time I don’t feel the need to scurry and rant and rave for others to see my point of view. Because, this time, I see the sad truth with kind of clarity only healing and time can deliver. This time, I have never been more grateful for the time and money that I have spent on my therapy. I am also grateful for the Don’t Get Drunk Friday posts by Stefani Wilder Taylor at Baby on Bored for helping me understand this disease. This post, and this post by Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka also helped me see the families of addiction more clearly. Thank you, both, so much.

I believe that although the other shoe has dropped, rock bottom has not yet been met. I love this person more than words can say, but I watch the situation from afar. Someone who is not well is unpredictable and lashes out; I am not ready for those emotional scars to be ripped open to bleed again. I can’t be drained like that again, not with two Babes, now one who is old enough to understand when something is not right. I help from behind the scenes, the person never knowing my involvement. And even though I know in my heart, these boundaries are the right and healthy thing to do, I feel guilty.

My hope is that one day this person will accept help and become the person he is meant to be. My hope is that he will want to be with his family and help create that special fabric only extended family can make. My hope is that the Babes will get a chance to know him. My hope is that I will get to know him.

The Eve of My 32nd Year

Tonight is the eve of my 32nd birthday. I love birthdays, even mine! I like the idea of aging and gaining wisdom. I also enjoy looking how far I’ve come and where I am heading. This particular year, I’ve been doing some thinking about relationships. I have come to the conclusion that because a relationship typically involves another party, it is a ludicrous expectation for me to do all the work in order for the relationship to exist.

So this birthday, I am giving myself permission to live this year with a new set of rules. I will only care my share’s worth in a relationship* and not care the other person’s amount. I will not compromise myself or my kids or what I deem as healthy boundaries so the other person is not inconvenienced. I am not going to take on all the responsibility so there is a relationship because then it really isn’t one, just the illusion of one. It was a sad day when I realized that some people just aren’t that into me and my kids, or just more into themselves, but either way . . . I can leave the door open, the windows propped up, and give you the code to my garage door, but I can’t make you walk in and want to be a part of my life.

So here’s to my 32nd birthday! Cheers!

*I understand relationships are not always 50/50, sometimes they are 80/20. 60/40, but they should never always be 90/10, 100/0.