Back to Therapy...Family Reunion

This summer has been so busy and it's been hard to find a time for my therapy sessions. I do make therapy a priority, but when I'm out of town most of the time, therapy is just not possible. The kids and I have tagged along with Mark as he's gone to talk to prospective students in different states. I usually have a few days between trips to do laundry, detox from junk food, and repack before heading on the road again. However, this time I actually had a week at home! I contacted M.T. and we made an appointment! Yesterday was the perfect day for a session. Quick recap. Remember what brought me to therapy to begin with? I was abused by a relative when I was a child; I thought I'd dealt with it; I grew up with this family member around here and there; I forgave him, moved on with my life, made terrible decisions, grew up, got married, had kids; then an article written in the local magazine triggered memories I was unaware I'd blocked. The past came crashing down on me like the perverbial anvil and life as I knew it stopped. Thus.....therapy. For the first time in 38 years, I made the decision to not attend our family reunion. This relative also attends the reunion and every year, I'd spent a weekend with him, watching him hug, laugh, visit and play. I truly had forgiven him, but I resented him. I had/have a hard time with the way things played out. So, like I said, with the encouragement and support of my husband and close friends, who were watching me fall apart, I decided not to take part in that weekend any longer. This is the weekend. Relatives from all over the country are now, this very minute, gathering in a campground...reuniting, catching up, sharing stories, laughing, snapping pictures, playing games... I'm the youngest of 42 first cousins. You can imagine how large this gathering is. We are a close family and value this weekend very highly. And I'm not there. I have anticipated and dreaded this special weekend every year of my life and I'm a tad angry about that. I don't like that the weekend created for the joy and strengthening of our family's bond has been so tainted for me. Anyway, that's why yesterday was perfect timing for a therapy session. What did I take away from therapy that I want to share with you? It's okay. It's okay to feel this resentment. I'm taking steps toward peace. I'm validated. M.T. believes in me. I no longer have the terror inside of me that somehow this darkness will remain inside me forever. And I am free this weekend. I had to sacrifice seeing dear and loved ones, new babies, old friends, and a lifelong tradition in order to gain this freedom and that is the hard part. The easy part? I am NOT spending this weekend watching my kids like a hawk for their safety. I am NOT spending this weekend with my skin crawling from unwelcome hugs. I am NOT spending this seeking being witness to children running and playing around this certain relative. Instead, I am spending the weekend safe, secure and in the sanctuary of my God, my husband, and my children. For those of you who've suffered hurt and injury from a relative, free yourself. Do not put yourself in their presence any longer. You can do it! Even when other family members give you dirty looks and have nasty reactions (been there!), you can do it!

Therapist in the Making

I finally know what I wanna be when I grow up! A helper. Mediator. Guide. Teacher. I want to be a professional, clinical therapist. Doesn't that sound exciting? It fits me. I'm all about being in other people's business. I spoke yesterday with Dr. Beth Wilson in Harding's Family Consumer Science Department. With her guidance and encouragement, I was able to map out a tentative plan towards a Bachelor's degree in Family Life Education. This degree will allow me to work as any number of a variety of positions, such as Case Worker, University Teacher, Director of Parent Services, Family Advocate, Family Specialist, Life Skills Specialist and Youth Counselor, while I continue on to get my Master's. Fun!! Starting in August, I'll hopefully be taking FCS 100, FCS 205, and FCS 322. Now, for the flip side of the coin. Me as the client. My own therapy sessions continue to help me and grow me into the person I've always been. That sounds weird, I know. Different people categorize healing in different manners. Let's see. If I was a free spirit/modern day hippie, I'd say, "I'm finding myself." An accountant, "I'm getting all my ducks in a row." A teacher, "I'm realizing my potential." A carpenter, "I'm strengthening my foundation." A doctor, "I'm self-medicatng the emotional wounds with a healthy regimen of therapeutic instruction." A teenager, "Dude. Right?" A politician, "In the interest of my voters, I'm applying character-building techniques with dedication and a hope for a better tomorrow." A housewife, "I should probably be doing a load of laundry and I realize dinner will be late, but if I don't get a handle on things, I'm gonna hurt somebody." A man, "Therapy? Nope. Just mandatory assessment." A woman, "I'm allowing my inner-self to recieve the attention I deserve and am sure the results are being noticed by everyone!" A comedienne, "Therapy, schmerapy. I just like the coffee and donuts they serve in there!" A kid, "I'm getting help. When I need help I ask for it. Don't you?" So you see, I'm healing. I'm healing and literally feeling more whole everyday. I am so proud of all of you who are also healing. Stay tuned for more about this healing process...next week we're going to touch on the topic of family dynamic!

The Right Now

Sometimes we get caught up in life. We set rules, goals, plans, boundaries. We record events, keep scrapbooks, take pictures, write journals. We fill our calendars, day planners, vacation time, weekends. All this can be wonderful; and certainly the intentions are admirable. There are moments however when our efforts turn around and stung us. We stress about broken rules, missed goals, cancelled plans, ignored boundaries. We lament forgotten video cameras, unfinished scrapbooks, dead camera batteries, weeks-behind journal entries. We begin to dread our calendar and the day's events and feel tired with our to-do lists. While on vacation, we think ahead to all that will have to be done when we get home. The lives we create for ourselves have every tendency to strangle the life right out of us. There's a Creator who's got it all under control. We need to enjoy the right now! It's hard but fantastic!

The Nutshell

I haven't stopped blogging...just took a break. To catch you up, we'll go over the past few weeks. Ready? Buckle up... Wonder if I have what it takes to go back to school and actually pursue what I intended to when I started college back in '94. Is Maggie really old enough to go to camp...for a whole week...in another state?? Who's that at the door...neighbor guy holding 9-mo-old grandbaby. Can I babysit? Of course. Bye, PaPa. Cute thing. Crying. Crying. Crying. Are you kidding me? Ah. Asleep. Whoops!!! Okay, I won't put you down! Five hours later...bye, baby. What? Will I babysit all week? Sure. Sweet baby. Where's Mama? In jail. Ah. Keep baby until you can bail her out? Yep. Doing very little in the way of preparing for Maggie to go to camp...and both boys to stay with grandparents. Not overwhelmed not overwhelmed not overwhelmed. Sort laundry with baby on hip...been awhile since I've done that. Can I handle all three of my kids being in a whole other state for a week? Can they handle it? Am I purposely obsessing over this to keep myself from thinking about going back to school? Back to school. That used to mean new clothes and shoes, new pencils, fresh notebooks, highlighters... Now it's iPads, MacBooks, and homework online! Am I too old for this? Bye, baby. Tired. Leaving for Iowa tomorrow and have done nothing but hold baby all week. Baby whose mama is still a baby herself and doesn't know yet if she wants to be a mama at all. Baby whose grandpa said he wished they could just give baby to me. Holding baby wasn't a waste of time. Driving to Iowa. 9 hours. Losing voice from reading outloud to family. My favorite thing to do. Taking Maggie to camp. Making her top bunk. Trying to make it comfy and big-girl and don't cry don't cry don't cry. Seeing a group of girls go by and remembering how mean and nasty girls can be. Feeling punched in the stomach. Smile. Bye, Maggie. Waiting until safely out of her sight to bawl my eyes out. Leaving boys with grandparents. Hugs. Kisses. Driving away. Bawling again. Talk to boys on the phone that night...stinkers aren't missing us at all! Home. Quiet home. Just Mark and me. Feeling sick. Make cookies and write notes to put in a carepackage for Maggie. Feeling sicker. Wondering if I'm who I thought I'd be at 38. In bed all next day feeling awful. Today. Everything is bright. Got text from friend who's camp nurse saying Maggie already has a best friend and is doing great. I feel great. Walk a mile. Sit down and have a firm talk with myself. I can do this. I will start school in the Fall and complete my journey toward becoming a therapist. Things are as they should be. I am blessed. I am healthy. I am getting up after submitting this blog and I will clean my house! What have you firmly talked to yourself about lately?

Therapy (8 and 9)

Sorry, All! I missed last week's therapy update! It actually goes with this week's so smooshing them together is easy. Last week we discussed my anxiety about attending the first ever Dale Ross Reunion. Y'all know that I was abused by a family member. Well, that person sometimes comes to the BIG family reunion; the reunion that started in 1960 and includes all descendants of my grandparents on my dad's side. Until this year, I'd never missed one. They're fun...swimming, badminton, volleyball, horseshoes, food, an auction, other creative fun stuff like a talent show, scavenger hunt, spoof beauty contests, and so much more. You can take nature walks, ride your bikes, and then enjoy the children's carnival. On Sunday morning we worship together outside. Beautiful! With ten original offspring, and 42 first cousins (all branching out into their own family units) it is always a larger-than-life experience. Who would want to miss that?! I love the activities and the visits with family. New babies, fun stories, important traditions, shared memories. It's always been a highlight of my summer. It's also always been the biggest nightmare. The abuser sometimes attends. Over the years, I've suppressed so much fear, anger, and grief...so many traumatic memories, impulses, and terrors. I developed defenses, coping mechanisms, and a determined numbness. This year, as you know, the internal dam broke and all, ALL, of the junk exploded inside me and, as M.T. said, began to ooze out. It oozed all over Mark and the kids, my health, my church life, my everything. It had to be dealt with. With all of the memories traumatizing me all oVver again, there's no way I could go to the big reunion. Face him? Face some of those who were so hurtful during the abuse at the time? Not on your life. So, my immediate family circled the wagons and came up with a plan that blew my mind. A reunion just for us! It was the perfect idea! We had actually been talking about wanting to do this for years. Now was the perfect time. So, this past weekend, I spent time in a campground in Texas hugging on new babies, sweet nieces and nephews, brothers and sisters, my precious mama and step-dad. There was no anxiety. I didn't have to strategically position myself so as not to be groped or "tickled" or "shoulder-massaged." I didn't have to watch my kids like a hawk. I was free! On Sunday morning, as I sat in that campground worshipping God with those I love most in the world, I was overcome with their love for me. They had conjured up a place of peace. They supported me with honest understanding. When they said they'd be there for me it wasn't just lip service. They were THERE!! Yesterday's therapy was all about the weekend in review. I am so blessed!! If you are reading this and thinking you could never have this kind of support, contact me. www.onceuponahousewife@gmail.com You don't have to have a weekend with family. And you don't have to do this alone! You are loved!!

Proud of My Daughter

I want to share with all of you this list my nine-year-old daughter Maggie made. Mark and I have been asking the kids if there's anything they'd like to learn or work on this summer. Phoenix, our six-year-old, said he'd like to learn more Spanish. Luke, our five-year-old, wants to learn to tie his shoes. Maggie had a whole list of things; and here it is. How to do laundry. How to iron. How to research and write book reports. How to write beautifully in cursive. How to cook more intricate meals. How to swim better; and more importantly how to dive head-first. Voice lessons. More piano lessons. Learn to properly babysit. Have a bank account. Learn to save money, even in hard, tempting times. Work on, check, and fix all mistakes in my book. (She's writing a book) Learn how to hold back my temper even when the boys are getting on my nerves. Practice handwriting since mine is so horrible. Work on my cursive!!! These are things I'd like review just before school starts. Cooking States and capitals Multiplication and division Spanish And my cursive!!! Y'all, my list for the summer doesn't hold a candle to Maggie's. I learn so much from her!

Me and Murphy

Just a short blog with wisdom I've learned. THREE REASONS TO DRESS AND PRIMP IN THE MORNING First, you are assured no oFne will come to your home unexpectedly; which is not the case should you remain pajama-clad and unkempt. Murphy's Law (and my experience) shows that you will have at least one person show up on your doorstep leaving you to race around, stuffing your hair in a clip, throwing on jeans and a shirt, don't forget your bra, and choking down a finger-dipped glob of toothpaste. You'll resent the visitor but make no mistake; this is your due punishment. Secondly, if you just take the time to look presentable, you can be certain you won't have to run any surprise errands. Murphy's Law (and my embarrassing experience) dictates that if you just throw on whatever's nearest, those two-sizes-too-small sweatpants and that stained shirt, you will undoubtably be called up to your child's school to confer with the teacher. You'll have to go in to your husband's office to sign some urgent papers. You will have to make a mad dash to the drugstore for Children's Tylenol (and you WILL run into Mrs. Super-Model-PTA-Betty-Crocker while you're there). And lastly, refusing the simple act of running a comb through your hair and taking a few minutes to put on deodorant will force Murphy's Law to teach you a final lesson. It's been my regrettable experience that your scruffy appearance will earn you the place on your child's favorite topics. "My mama always gives stinky kisses." "My mama jiggles inside her clothes when she walks." "My mama has the same hair as cartoon people." "My mama has black crumbs under eyes." "My mama doesn't have to bathe every day like I do." You get the idea. Take it from me. It's worth that smidgen of energy you usually save for putting the cereal on the table to instead brush, button, smooth, and spray. You'll be glad you did.