The Mommy Syndrome

Once you have it, it's always with you. I am constantly noticing runny noses, untied shoes, sleepiness, unfocused daydreaming, the pee-pee dance, the overwhelming desire to scream, wet diapers, dirty faces, hugs-in-wanting, tears-about-to-overflow, outside-voices, and too-quiet-to-be-up-to-anything-good.

I am constantly aware of the lack of "yes, ma'am", the shoulder shrug, the mumble, the inside sunglasses, the refusal-of-eye-contact, the slumped posture, the pull-up-your-pants-please!, the eternal pout, and the I'd-rather-be-anywhere-but-here-stare.

My kids participate in all of these at some points. And I do something about it! C'mon, parents! Let's be active! I don't want my kid to be the adult that no one wants to play with....the kid who becomes the adult no one wants to be around... the kid who becomes unhappy with himself but doesn't know why.

Sure...let a kid be a kid. Play, joy, imagination, giggles, fun, games, mischief, jokes, silliness, discovery, faith, innocence, trials, and goodness are all mandatory for childhood. To some of our children, these things do not come naturally and must be nurtured and cultivated. It's our job to do that. I really don't see a problem here in most cases. We want our children to be happy. We'd do anything to get a smile out of them. We hurt when they hurt so we do anything to keep from breaking their hearts. We make excuses for them when there are pending consequences. We ignore certain behavior to avoid conflict. We allow their individuality to become selfishness in the name of open-minded parenting.

Stop it.

When your child gets in trouble, it is NOT our job to cover it up, make excuses, say everything's okay, or come to their defense. YES, we love our children! It is our job, BECAUSE we love them, to stay beside them every step of the way. We must support them and hug them AS they pay the price. This doesn't, as so many parents fear, convey to them that we think they're bad or we don't care. Just the opposite, in fact. It tells them that, no matter what, we are always here for them and love them. It says, "Yes. You messed up. I've messed up too. I understand and am right here as you struggle through this life-lesson." When they don't get their way or their plans don't go as they want, it is NOT our job to re-manipulate the situation so that our sweeties are happy again. It's our job to convey to them that life will do this to them over and over and their reaction to it is more important than the actual plan not coming to fruition.

Parenting is so much more than runny-noses and untied shoes. The future DEPENDS on our efforts in discipline and active involvement in what's BEST for our child (not what's comfortable at the time!).

Preachy preachy. Yes, I know. And those of you who know me know that this must be a lesson I need badly myself. :)

I preach what I myself need to hear. My daughter is going through a difficult time right now. She has auditioned for a play, didn't make it; tested for a program, just missed it; and is now wanting to try-out for the swim team and has only had minimal lessons (I know she won't make it).

When she didn't get into this certain program I was so devestated. It was hard to encourage her when I really wanted to go down and have a "talk" with the administrators. Why would they NOT accept her? She's bright, sweet, selfless, determined, ethical, brilliant, etc... I had several sleepless nights over this. So did Maggie. It reminded me of a time in High School when I didn't get into a certain program. My mom DID go down and have a talk with one of the people in charge and was told that the program was directed toward students who needed the extra-curricular "club" because they needed the confidence...and they thought I didn't. Hooey. But I remember feeling like I'd let my mom down. I know now I didn't; that she was hurting for me. So, when Mark DID go and talk to one of the people in charge, he didn't tell Maggie he was doing it.

Then, right on the tail of this disappointment, was her failed audition. She sang a beautiful solo, did a choreographed dance, followed stage direction perfectly, was bold, etc...and didn't make it. I was crestfallen for her. I wanted to fix it! How could they NOT choose her! But then I remembered how I tried out for cheerleader for four years in a row and never won. I put myself out there for everyone to see and everyone knew that I had never made it. There was cruelty and fun-making. It was miserable. When I did become cheerleader, it was only because a certain girl had moved away and they were bumping up the names on the list. Because a small amount of girls had tried out and they could only accept so many, only one girl had not made it. Me. And, yay, now by default I got to join. So good for the self-esteem to know that I was the absolute least popular girl in the entire school.

And I remembered how my parents handled that. They held me while I cried and then told me how proud they were of me. They assured me that High School popularity in no way defined me. This didn't sink in until years later, but my subconscious heard it. That's what I needed. To know that I could fail and still not let them down. That was more important than them fighting my battles for me.

So, when Maggie's name was not on the cast list, I held her. She actually didn't cry. She handled it with grace and took time to read over the list to see if there were girls she knew so she could congratulate them. She told me she knew she'd done her best, that she'd been very good, and that they just couldn't choose everyone. I thought, "Boo-Hoo! She doesn't need me!!!"

But wait. She doesn't need me.....to define her....to be her strength...to keep her from building her own life and personality. Cool.

So I was in a quandry. Do we let her try out for the swim team? We KNOW she will not make it. But, is that the point? Mark told me just yesterday that he is going to let her try out. He said it's good for her. My first impulse was to argue...to shelter her from pain, embarrassment, disappointment...from a character-building experience, life, growing pains. I must trust my daughter. I must use disappointments to help her grow. And I must NOT convey to her that I don't think she's good enough.

It's hard. But I guess if it was easy, there wouldn't be parenting classes, books, counselling, etc... As parents, let's encourage each other!

We can do this!! And so can our kids!!

Dead Trees and Timing

Today marks the end of one whole week of college life for me. I made it! And I love it! Every day has caused a flashback of college life 15 years ago and I'm reminded how blessed I am today. When I first attempted college, my finances were a mess, my confidence was nil, my physical being was under enometrial siege, my dating life had just taken a very public and embarrassing dive, and I was experiencing a chemical depression that was yet to be diagnosed.

Today is proof that one never knows what's in store. Ten years ago, I was resolute in my decision to never go back to school. My health had only deteriorated, my social life had only deteriorated, my confidence had only....you get the idea. Then the tree began to blossom.

In the summer time when trees seem dead, it's hard to picture them in full bloom. They have to rest, store up minerals, food, and water in preparation for the spring. They look weary, useless, lifeless, as if they have nothing to offer. But then the tree begins to blossom.

Maggie.

Those of you who know the story of my miracle child are probably tired of hearing about it. But, I never am. I am constantly amazed at the turn of events she set in motion. My health...because the endometriosis had killed so much of me, I was seeing five different specialists. On their recommendation, and the prayers and support of my family and friends, I became artificially inseminated. Pregnancy could offer the one last hope of reversing some of the endometrial damage; and if it didn't, then this would be my last ditch chance of having a child.

Let's remember....my life was a wreck. No social life, no future goals, no anything. I simple existed. Through the process of fertility and meeting Mark and maturing in my spiritual journey and deepening my relationship with family, a 180 took place. All of a sudden, my life had meaning. I began to see how all of the physical trials had led me to this moment. Maggie. I'd do it all over again if I had to.

I also began seeing another pattern emerging.

After almost a decade of marriage, I have had the chance to make out a time-line of my life and truly study it. How perfect everything seems now. Heartache, loneliness, depression, shame, destitution, dependence...gathering minerals, water, and food.

I am in school to get my Family Life Education degree which will ultimately lead to me being a family therapist with emphasis on child trauma. What kind of therapist would I be if I'd never lived what my future clients will have experienced? Empathy cannot be taught in a classroom and compassion is on no exit exam. I am so blessed to have had a dead-tree life in order to prepare for this wonderful spring I can now see.

Yesterday, a sweet friend said, "You're a survivor. You're going to be a great therapist!" I was humbled. I've never really thought of myself as being a survivor. Survivors fight through their mess and arrive victorious on the other side. I feel as if I tolerated the mess until God pulled me through to the other side. But regardless of how I got here, I'm here.

I love God's timing. I love His plan. I love that I am not God.

Fort Mascara

First Day of School. This well-known and widely-celebrated holiday seems to touch everyone at various stages of life every year. Today is my first day of school...again. Hi, my name is Kim, and I'm a 38 year old starting back to college in hopes (again) of completing my undergrad degree. So, is it different for me than for, say, my nine year old who is starting Fourth Grade today? Nope. No, it's not. She painstakingly planned her wardrobe, brushed her hair until is shone, packed her lunch with detail to every aspect and had her backpack at the door....last night. Me? I'm too old to care about things like wardrobe and all that right? I mean, as long as I have a pen, some paper, my textbook and the laptop, I'm good to go.

This should be the case but it's not. This is very interesting to me. It's interesting that I thought I didn't care what I would wear until I couldn't find a certain pair of jeans this morning. I mean, I have a few other pair of jeans but for some reason, I HAD to find THIS pair. Then, the shirt. I was going to just throw on a T-shirt. But from the looks of my bed, now strewn with blouses of every color and style, I may have been a little more invested in this as well.

Make-up. I haven't been wearing a lot of make-up lately, but when I was done this morning, I stared at the mask looking back at me from the mirror. Wow....layer much?

So, this is what I've learned....about myself, if not people in general. I care. As much as I wish I didn't, I do. When you see me today, those of you who WILL see me today, feel free to make fun. I am not so much insecure about the outfit, hair, make-up, etc, as I am just traditional. It's like putting up the Christmas tree even though you won't be home for Christmas. You just do it. It's just the way it's always been. I will always arm myself with lint-free clothing and heavy make-up when embarking on something new.

To all you gals out there pumping the mascara tube, may you be blemish-free and may your deodorant work all day today!

When Real is Real Annoying

It occurs to me as I lick my bowl that there's a little "slob" in me. It was a great pasta dish, I'm all alone in my own home, and there was sauce left at the bottom of the bowl! Yummy! So, if there were people here, would I have still licked the bowl? If I was at a restaurant, would I lick the bowl? No. No I wouldn't. Does this mean I'm a fake?

I know people who say, "I am comfortable with myself. What you see is what you get." And that's great. We should all be confident enough to show our true colors, stand by our own opinions, follow through with our words, and unapologetically sport our own style. I encourage this full-speed! In fact, I refuse to define beauty, success, love, reason, comfort, or style in any kind of general sense. These things are defined by each person for themselves. When you see my children wearing polka-dots with stripes, orange with red, hair sticking straight up, flip-flops with taffeta... just know it's not negligence. It's Mark and me setting a foundation of what's appropriate and modest, and letting each person in the house decide what makes THEM feel beautiful and stylish.

But, if I lick my bowl in private, should I lick my bowl public? I mean, I digressed a little with the whole beauty-style-definition thing. Real is real, right?

I believe I can be real and still NOT lick my bowl in public.

I knew a girl in college who was herself, her earthy-natural-selfy self, all the time. No matter where we were. She was sure of herself and didn't seem to need anyone's compliments or assurance. This was such a respectable quality. And I was totally put off by her. I cringed when I knew she would be around. Oh yes, what you saw is what you got. She passed gas, picked her nose, scratched, burped, and yes she licked her bowl. Gross. Not gross because she did all of those naturally human things. Gross because she did them where I could see her.

I'm all about being my own person bla bla bla. But, people, it's not about that. It's about considering others. To thine own self be true? Yes, in the privacy of your own home, feel free to be as true as thine own self would like. But hopefully, within you, there is a true sense of respect that will give you the common sense to hold your tongue when needs be, keep private things private, and observe politeness when politeness is called for.

I know this girl who, in the dorm rooms, would entertain us all by burping the alphabet in two octaves. I still smile just thinking about it. But she would never have done that in public. She was true to herself AND respectful of others.

You're not being fake by having manners.

The Last Dog Days of Summer

Our dog is sick. Most of you know this. Some of you don't, so I'll just tell you about it. One day, our Maisy just wasn't herself. Overnight, she went from hyper, happy, white, playful, bark-at-pedestrians sweetness...to...lethargic, drooling, not eating, dull-colored (in fact, yellow), despondant, quiet nothingness. We tried not to panic. We tried the normal stuff. On day three of same symptoms, we took her to the vet. We're thinking a bad virus, bug bite, snake bite...oh, no. Not something normal for our dog. She has Canine Autoimmune Hemolytic Anemia. This is a disorder that only 10% of dogs get. Of course. Her red blood cell count went from the normal range of 35-50 to 18. Then 15 the next day. We knew it was over. So few dogs survive from this. But the next day, the count went back up to 18. Wha..? So, now I'm force-feeding chicken broth to her through a dropper and Mark's sleeping on a pallet in the floor beside her at night and we're just countingher breaths.

Here's the good part. I haven't thought of myself once during the past few days. Service, even to a DOG, will get your head back in the game. It never fails. Thank you, God, for Canine Autoimmune Hemolytic Anemia. It reminded me there are things bigger than me. My dog is fighting for her life and she may pull through. I am fighting daily against the evil one and I already know I'll pull through.

Anger Rising...

Well, as expected, this new No Yelling Policy was put to the test immediately. Boy, did I wanna explode last night!

Oh, but first, let's rewind. A few weeks ago, I said the next leg of this journey is about understanding the reasons behind decisions I've made. You know...the if-I-could-go-back-I'd-do-it-all-differently decisions. Well, don't think I've derailed. Anger is the beginning. I remember making decisions based solely on the feeling of rage. This is where we begin and if I don't get it together, we may not move forward!

Last night, Mark and I went to one of the kids' Open Houses for school. It didn't take long for my insecurities to kick in...just stepping onto a school campus triggers them. I saw all the perfect moms. Tan, blonde, buffed, shined, styled and smiling. Children walking obediently beside them with matching hairbows and clean, pressed clothing. Having had therapy yesterday, I was wiped out. I was wearing my oh-so-baggy pants, had not a stitch of make-up on (and let's remember that I bawled my eyes out earlier), and only washed hair...not moussed, dried, and styled hair. No jewelry. Nothing really matched. My toenail polish was chipping. I hated every woman in the building. Anger rising.

I spent the entire Principal-Speech-Orientation-Bla-Bla-Bla calming myself. Good grief. These women deserve come credit. If they can run a household and still show up looking like diamonds, then way to freakin' go. I mean, way to go. Yes. Good. Very good for them. I could look good. If I wanted to. I mean, if I wanted to and had the energy and money and....Okay, let's move on already.

We got to the designated classroom, found our child's name and little desk. I started brightening immediately. The bookshelves, the calendar, the wall-art, the fun activities...Oh, I know this will be a good year! The teacher seems nice. What's this? I spy a name at one of the desks...a classmate from last year that is a best friend! Oh, how wonderful! I begin looking at other names. Oh, for the love of all that is right. There it is. The name of the Nemesis. And the Nemesis has a mom. The mom who always does everything perfectly. The mom who goes on all the field trips. The mom who is at the school involved in every micro-detail every time I show up and who makes me feel pittied somehow for not being as involved as she is. Anger rising.

At least the best friend is there. Until I talk to best friend's mom and find that they're actually probably going to home school this year. WHAT?!!!

Mark, take me home.

This may seem ridiculous to most of you. However, remember I have an anger problem and it takes so little to trigger it these days. Nemesis-and-Mom in my kid's class. Perfect.

I started to rant on the way to the car. I didn't yell. I did not ONCE raise my voice. I didn't hurl a stapler at anyone. I didn't curse...wait. Hmm. Well, I didn't come home and begin plotting the year to come.

I prayed. I prayed and I asked Mark to help keep me grounded. And here's something interesting. Mark brought this wisdom to the table. Why do I care? What does it matter to ME that this mommy needs to be there every minute of her child's day? Why do I care that everyone always loves her? Why do I care that she politics all year so that her child always gets all the Best-Freakin'-Person-in-the-World Awards? Why? I'm not jealous. I just have issues with that type of personality. And that's irrational. Let it go.

Deep breath.

Let her be what she is. Let what happens happen. It's not in my control. I can be the best mom I can be and that has nothing to do with the other mothering going on.

I. Will. Not. Be. Angry. Over. This. :)

(Ask me how this is going in couple of weeks!)

When a Plan DOESN'T Come Together

Just got back from therapy. I went in feeling good, came out feeling good, did battle in between. You KNOW it's a good session when you can say all that! When I began talking to M.T. (she let's me rattle), I didn't know where I'd end up. I felt like things were going pretty well. They are going well, yes, but there are still many areas needing work.

I like a plan. I like a plan so much that when things don't go according to plan, I kind-of have a little imploding moment that never bodes well for anyone within striking distance.

I have an anger problem. It wasn't a problem earlier in life. I had reason to be angry; but more than that, my anger had been honed and crafted into a very effective coping skill...my fierce anger protected me in any and every vulnerable situation. If I felt the least bit threatened (in any way...at all) or even the POTENTIAL of something as mild as a snide comment, I was armed and ready. I could cut you within an inch of your life with my words and you'd never forget it.

I like a plan. See, I'm not just talking about a nice schedule or a daily routine. Yes, those are wonderful! I'm talking about from the moment I wake up to the moment I lose waking consciousness, I must be able to predict most every situation. I must anticipate even the most mundane posibilities.

Crankiness used to come into play whenever any scenario played out that I had not anticipated. Something lasting longer than scheduled. Someone planning something at the last minute. Finding no more Diet Dr. Pepper in the fridge. It doesn't take much.

But no more. I'm safe now. Somehow I must re-craft the anger into emergency-only-mode. Get angry when there's a bear in the camp...not when we just ran out of popcorn in the camp. My first level of Operation Anger Depletion is no more yelling. This will be no easy task...but it's in play as we speak. The next time something goes against the plan, I will NOT yell at whoever is in the line of fire. I will not. I will not. I will not.

Crud. I hit something on my laptop just now and it erased four long (beautifully written!!!) paragraphs!!!!! I'm not yelling. Nope. Not even a little rise in the voice. Just going with it.

In the past, if that would've happened, I would've deleted what I had left, slammed the laptop closed and been frustrated for several hours.

Not this time. I'm going to post this anyway...it's missing quite a lot of eloquently conveyed points, but so be it. It is what it is.

Not yelling.

Let's see how long this lasts.

Hey, Gorgeous

I have insecurities. Anybody else? Well, I was watching a stupid science-fiction show during which a demon was feeding on everyone's fears and insecurities. It made things so clear. I mean, when I get all paranoid about a blemmish, let's be honest, a zit on my face or my unwashed hair or my more-than-a-few-pounds change since last year, what good can I possibly do? How can I help others, encourage others, be at service to others when I'm not even THINKING of others?!

It's important for me to fight the insecurities, sometimes minute by minute. Prayer of course is the best defense. Also, loving myself. There's a concept. Who doesn't want to be loved? I do. I want to be loved...so shouldn't I learn how that works first? When I look in the mirror, I have the choice of two responses: "Gross." or, "Hey, Gorgeous." That simple. And, I won't always agree with myself but it doesn't matter because that part of the brain that hears everything and believes it will hear and believe!

The next step is to step outside of myself for five seconds. Wow. So un-American!! Thinking, "What should I wear today? I wonder if this makes me look fat. Is that spot on my nose noticeable? I wonder if anybody thought what I said last night was stupid. I know that woman was judging me. That girl looked at my outfit in a weird way." This will gain us NO PRODUCTIVITY!!!! It's like a huge road block! Try this. Think, "What do I need to get done today....houswework...so, I'd better dress cool and comfortable. I need to call and check on Suzie and be sure she's feeling okay. And I wonder if that chicken completely thawed...I should make an extra casserole to be ready for any craziness. I hope I can write that encouragement card and get it out to the mailbox before the mailman comes. Oh, and didn't the boys want me to wash their red shirts? I'd better get moving!" Do you SEE the productivity in this scenario? Did any of that have anything to do with holy-cow-look-at-my-hair?

Let's take a different look. Let's say our insecurities have beaten us down to the point that we don't even care about surface anymore. We look in the mirror and say, "What are you lookin' at? It doean't matter what you wear, you're not going to get anything done today. Might as well stay in your pajamas and go sit in the living room until something forces you up." People, I've been here. I can show you the rearend-print on my living room chair. It's hard to climb out of this one. It's literally a step by step process to productivity. But here's where the 20-minute-strategy comes into play. Get out of bed.

Get something yummy...I drink an energy drink called Spark, you might grab some coffee, I know those who drink a soda...whatever it is, get it! While you're drinking this wake-up beverage, go through your day in your mind. "I don't have any appointments today. I should probably do a load of laundry." STOP THERE! You have your to-do list! So, when the beverage is gone-gone, get up and walk to your bedroom. If you feel like taking a shower, go for it. If not, don't...and don't feel bad about it. Look at the clock. Work for 20 minutes. Laundry...then, because you will probably have time leftover, just move to a room and straighten. As soon as the 20 minutes is up, stop! For 20 minutes, do whatever you want. And so on and so on. If you find yourself overwhelmed and don't know where to start, use your first working 20 minutes to make a list. But remember...you're the boss of the list, it is NOT the boss of you!

Insecurities. They rise at such inopportune moments. Have any of the following ever happened to you?

Talking to someone you think is smart and you say something so stupid.
Trying to look sexy for your husband (wife, boyfriend, whatever) and you fart.
Telling your kids to be careful and you turn around and knock something over.
Spend the day cleaning and doing laundry and feeling so productive and then your husband asks for the ONE thing that you DIDN'T wash.
Go to visit the in-laws and find you've forgotten to pack your children's socks and underwear (or coat in the dead of winter).
Set up professional family pictures and your hair won't cooperate.
Sit in the front row at church and your kid is the one who won't stop yelling.
Be visiting with someone when your child comes up and asks, "Mama, remember when you pooped in your panties that one time?"

These things will happen. And they will happen again. Stopping these things from happening is NOT the goal. Deciding right now how you will respond is where you gain the upper hand. Sticking your foot in your mouth is going to happen...so what will you do? How will you handle it that doesn't scream, "I'M A NUT JOB!!!" You WILL get up to the check-out with 20 people in line behind you and find you don't have your wallet. How will you handle it without crumpling to the floor or sitting in your car crying?

I'm rambling. I realize this. This post is for me and me alone. I've blogged for 20 minutes...time for me to get up and take a shower. It's on my list.

Narcissistic Tendencies

I like to pretend sometimes that I have control. Even of little things. I plan my day, knowing some things won't pan out, knowing I must remain flexable, but still thinking that at least SOMETHING I've decided on will come to be...and that if it does, I can pat myself on the back for being so organized.

I also like to pretend it's up to me whether or not people like me. I mean, to be sure, I must do my part (as far as it is up to me...). However, I take even that which is not up to me on my shoulders, which sets me up for the feeling of stress, worry, and ultimately either failure or misplaced pride. Let's go deeper here. I just really like to be liked! But only by people who used to like me but then stopped liking me for some reason. I don't resort to stalking...but just short of that. You surely know what I'm talking about...like a break-up. Say I break up with you but then hate that you don't like me anymore! What's your problem? And my kids! I don't let them watch certain t.v. shows or eat certain foods or say certain words but does that mean they get to resent me? *phh* These are in jest, of course, but there is one situation I struggle with. For real.

I wronged her. Kind of. There was something she wanted and I ended up getting it. It never would've been hers anyway, whether I got it or not...and I talked to her about it before hand. But after this thing came in to my possession, she completely stopped talking to me...except to say, "You've never known how to be a good friend. And not only are we not friends anymore, but I will never forgive you."

Now, before we get all "How dare she?!" let's be perfectly clear. I was a jerk in her eyes. I could've handled things much more gently. I took for granted the fact that she could never possess this thing, no matter what, and so it simply made sense to me that, since it WAS possible for me to have, I should go for it! I didn't go after it because she wanted it. In fact, I'd spent the last year helping her do whatever it took to attain it. I did everything in my power to see that she would get this thing... and one day, it was made clear to me that she could never have it. Ever. I still didn't know I was remotely interested in having it. But after a little while, just as you cannot choose certain aspects of your life, I became aware that this thing was mine already...without me ever realizing it.

Oh, we all know what I'm talking about here and most of you know who and where and why and bla bla bla...but let's pretend I'm being subtle. I truly want to vent this and I just as truly DON'T want to hurt anyone in the process.

It's been over eight years now. I have gone to her; written to her; called her; emailed her; prayed and prayed and prayed. I sought wise counsel and was advised to let it be. But....how? How can I just let it be? I have this need for her to acknowledge, as things turned out, she didn't really want this thing to begin with! I want validation. I want her to apologize for cutting me off and calling me a bad friend and not even listening to anything I had to say. I'm selfish in this agenda. I know it. It would seem I just want to feel better.

What about her, you ask. What about her feelings? She felt betrayed. I get that. I even apologized to her, multiple times. After the situation became clear, I must assume to both of us, that this thing we thought we had a choice in was never in our control. This thing was the decision maker and had chosen to come into my possession without any action on any of our parts. I didn't steal this thing. I didn't compete for this thing. But I still understand her feeling like I betrayed her.

And it's been almost a decade. Why do I still feel a gnawing inside of me at the knowledge that she still hates me? Am I that narcissistic? Help me out. It so happens, as most of you know, that every couple of years I dredge this up and begin pining away for closure. What I need to do is let it go. Again.

I know.