Cocoon of Chaos

Asking for Help

Photo credit via Pinterest

To say the world is saddened by Robin William's death is an unneccassary understatement. I, too, am deeply moved by his untimely passing, it is always tough to see such a bright flame flicker into oblivion. However, what has left me empty and thinking all day today is the idea of help in our culture. So many of us need it, whether it be to take the kids for an hour or professional help to get through tough times. Although we all know this, there is something about us that makes it hard to ask, as if we carry a veil of shame in the need to do so. Why is that? Why are we so determined to be the best all of the time? And why does help lessen our character or weaken our strength?

My heart breaks for the depths of despair this talented man was waging through; so bad that he sought relief in death. It saddens me even more to know that so many millions of people suffer this same depression every single day and because we've been fed this malarky to "just get through it", the suffering only increases ten fold.

This is hard for me to write about, but I've struggled with depression for six years now. Upon losing the babies in 2008, I sunk into a very deep, dark hole. There were mornings that I could not get out of bed, quite literally. My body ached with sadness, my mind clouded with hurt, and it was very hard for me to fight these demons when I felt like I should just get over it. But, as anyone tells you that suffers from depression, there is no moving on, getting over it; it is more getting through it. However, it requires work and help. For me, my little family was my help. There were days I could enjoy every moment, others I could not bear another. One day, an eighteen month old Pippa, laid next me in bed, raised her head and put her finger on my face. Staring intensely at me, she said, "Sad mama." If my eighteen month old could recognize my sadness, my need for extra love, then I, too, had to do the same. I had to let myself need the help, the extra hugs, the community around me. 

Although the onset of my depression was due to grief, it is not always that way. I still struggle with it on a monthly basis; there is no predicting it, avoiding it, or ignoring it. I have to let myself just be in it and find comfort in whatever I need in the moment. This is not easy but I know in order to avoid continued  hurt, panic attacks, or deeper dips, I have to let go of unrealistic expectations and admit that I need help. That help may be an extra hug from the kids, an hour of uninterrupted reading in my room, medicine, and/or talking to a professional. 

I hope Robin Williams life will be remembered not for the struggles he lost, but rather for the laughs he delivered, the warmth his light brought into someone's darkness. I've heard so many people say to try to be more kind, recognize that we all fight internal battles, and never underestimate the power of compassion. With everything, I want to believe that people will do just that, even for a day.

"Always be more kinder than necessary." ~J.M. Barrie

Lesson Learned: Encouraging Sibling Love, Not Forcing

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This week, Pippa, our dear middle child spent 6 hours a day at soccer camp. Now, to be honest, I was a bit nervous about this week, not for her, but rather for her siblings. Pippa is the classic middle child, trying to make everyone happy, playing with everyone, and quite frequently, the peacemaker between her brother and sister. That being said, I had great intentions of making this week in her absence a week of bonding for Bea and Oliver. However, I learned that you cannot force love between siblings, no matter how hard you try.

What I thought would be a great week, turned out being horrid. I felt like I needed a referee shirt, breaking up fights every five minutes for three days. Two days of rain certainly did not help, either, forcing us inside, which is never a good combination for these two kiddos. My eldest and youngest are so much alike, it is crazy. However, it is their similarities that drive them apart. They are rigid, sensitive, and reactive kids. I liken it to the mountain sheep you see butting heads, pushing, fighting with all their might on a rocky ledge.  On Wednesday night, I had a breakdown in front of both of them and it seemed to rattle them a bit. We all went to bed with heavy hearts and I had to do some serious mama reflection about my behavior and intentions.

I must admit this whole sibling thing is rather new to me. I was an only child until I was 19 and I adore my siblings. I did not have to share my space, my things, or my parents with anyone growing up and I guess, I had this idea of what siblings would look like when planning our family. As usual, what I imagined was so off base, but also our reality, I know is very normal. I know siblings will fight, scream, and hurt each other, believe me, I've learned that. But what was going on was a bit deeper than that. My eldest and youngest both thought the other one did not like them as people. When we finally hashed that out at the breakfast table, it seemed like the air got a bit lighter. All this drama was based around perception and in a way, fear. As much as I wanted them to reconnect this week, I knew it had to be done on their own terms, not on mine. Maybe it would not happen this week, or this year, but hearing them both apologize to each other and say "I love you" and hug was enough for me.

And you know what? The rest of the week was great. I planned activities that pleased both of them but also gave them their own space, like bike rides and park trips. There was opportunity for shared play, but also individual time. It was rather amazing that when I stepped back, they stepped up.

 

Rebel in a Retail Giant

My trips to Target usually are solo, lovely jaunts browsing the aisles aimlessly, a little evening escape. However, the mister is traveling quite a bit this month, we needed some supplies, so I begrudgingly dragged the troops along. Note to self: not a good idea. I'll spare the details of the massive tantrum that passersby witnessed, but suffice it to say, I was taken advantage of in the aisles. I was overwhelmed, sweaty, and done so I said yes to the Oreos, Bugles, and Doritos. The look on the girls' faces was priceless like, "hey, hurry up, she may realize what she's doing soon." We never eat this junk, I mean never, but you know what, it felt really good to be really bad. Sometimes, a day calls for a little rebellion. We ended the night on the couch watching Wipeout eating Doritos in fits of laughter. It was well worth it, my friends. 

I tend to draw a hard line in the sand sometimes of what to expect of myself as a parent and I'm slowly learning, it is rather fun to step over that line sometimes.

 

Confessions: Body Image

It has been a while since I did a confession. I hopped over to Design Mom today and came upon a post about body image. The video below moved me deeply...

 

Oh, ladies, we are really too hard on ourselves. We short change ourselves too much. We don't appreciate ourselves nearly enough. I know we know this, I know we don't want to do it, and I know how painful it is when we do it, because I do it. A lot. Too much.

I try very, very, very hard to never speak about my body in a negative way in front of my children because I don't want them to go through what so many of us go through daily. To be honest, this is a tough post for me to write. I've always been the skinny one, the small one, the tiny one. It had, in a sense, become my identity. But then, I had children and age crept up on me. I am not so tiny anymore, I have curves where I didn't before, and well, my body is just not what I would like it to be. There are dimples that I loathe and muscles that I miss. But, here is the thing. I know I am beautiful. I am beautiful because I am living each and every day with intention, grace, compassion, and humility. I am trying to find the beauty, joy, and meaning in the small, simple things in life. And also, I have a husband that tells me I am beautiful everyday. I need to start believing him. 

When Devin and I had a date last night, it was very interesting to look at the nudes in the museum. They had curves, bellies, and wore their roundness with pride. They were not thin, manicured, perfect...but they were beautiful. So, I am vowing in this little cocoon of mine to stop the madness. To be nice to myself. To appreciate the pull of gravity on my own body because it signifies the gift of one more day. My laugh lines are there because I have 3 children that fill every day with joy. The wrinkles between my eyebrows are there because the sun has so graciously shone on my face for 34 years. The softness in my belly is proof that I've had the privilege to carry 3 healthy babies. Those children do not see my flaws, they see my beauty. I need to start seeing myself through their eyes. Thanks for reading, my friends...

Confessions: A day better forgotten

Remember the Confessions series? 

The mister and I were watching War Horse for our date night and in the movie, there is a line, "some days are best forgotten"; well, I had one of those days best forgotten kind of days on Saturday. Our day started with tantrums and ended in tantrums. It was one of those days that no matter how hard I tried, there was no positive outlook that was going to change anything. Oliver and Ava were a nightmare. Plain and simple. My confession: I crumbled...totally and utterly crumbled...and so did the mister. Parenting is no easy feat, my friends, and we try so very hard to be the best we can but even some days the best isn't enough. And that is a really crummy feeling. And an even crummier feeling is watching my sweet Lillian, our middle child, sit, watch and wait for it to be all over. I was giving her a hug good night and she said to me, "Mummy, I'm sorry the day was so bad. I love you." So, another confession: there are some days that one child shines a bit brighter than another. Don't get me wrong, I don't play favorites, but on hellish days it is comforting knowing at least one child is happy. 

The mister and I do in house date night every Saturday but this one was hard. We were both so exasperated by the day, we just sat and ate our yummy dinner (salmon patties on arugula salad), and sipped our gin and tonics in silence. That is what I love about this guy: he understands me like no one else. I literally had nothing left at 8 o'clock at night and he was alright with that. I take things hard and when my eight year old is screaming at me, it hurts my heart. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but I do. It hurts.

In all the chaos of the day, Ava lost a tooth. She left a little note for the tooth fairy and it read, "I don't mean to be greedy, but could  you leave a bit extra money. I was mean to my parents today and I want to get them something to say sorry." Sigh. Broken heart mended just as quickly as it was broken. 

So, my friends, please feel free to leave your confessions in the comment form below. No judgements here.

Confessions...Part 2

Remember how I posted here about this Confession series? Well, time for part two.

Confession: Over the past week, I've been on the internet too much...way too much. 

What was I doing?

Hmmm...that's a layered question. First response, looking. Looking for inspiration. Inspiration to help get me out of this funk a dunk I'm in. To be honest, I go through these funks quite regularly. Why? Hmm...another loaded question. Simply, I think too much. I seriously make myself sick sometimes worrying about things that I have little control over. Some are very personal, others have to do with the kids I work with and what lies ahead for them.  Sometimes, all this thinking and wandering around the internet reading blogs and pouring over pinterest is a distraction...a distraction to avoid the ball of choking emotion sitting in my throat.  And then...

I read this via Frecklewonder and my goodness, it moved me to the core.  All the time I was searching on the internet for some sort of...something to pick me up, just ended up making me feel worse, or less creative, or less of a writer, a mother, a wife. But...how silly of me...really and truly, how silly of me.  I am enough...even when I'm riding out these funks. And really, I need to give myself a break, on so many levels.  And then...

a good friend and talented photographer, Esther Mathieu emailed me some images that made me feel like the luckiest lady alive...

no matter what, these four people will always be there, loving me for me, faults and all. 

During the hours of searching, I did find two amazing projects that I will be incorporating into my daily life.  The 365 Day Project and Imagination Childhood's Earth Day Challenge.  And, besides my time here in my cocoon, I've limited myself to 30 minutes of internet time everyday. That is it. That's all I need. I tell you, it's lovely having the limit. I've already finished two books, laundry is caught up (somewhat), and I'm happily popping out of this funk a dunk!

So, if you see fit, add your own confession in the comment form below. And, from the botttom of my heart, thanks a million for reading my scribbling...

Confessions...

In an email from my oh-so-lovely-new-mama sister in law, she wrote, "You make it all look so easy." This got me thinking that I need a space here to show that my life is not just a joyous joyride...to be honest, some days, it stinks.  I have a lot on my plate: I work two jobs, volunteer at Girls, Inc., am a graduate student, and a mother to 3. Admittedly, I put it all on my plate and I LOVE all of it, but sometimes, things go a bit cuckoo.

So, I've added a new category on the side bar, entitled Confessions, because it is not all singing bluebirds and barefoot children, it is HARD work. This whole notion of doing it all is just absurd. Something has to give.  Newsflash: Superheroes aren't real, so I'm not sure why so many of us are trying to be Super Parents. There is not a single cape that possesses the magic to make this all work all of the time.

Now, friends, please let me honest and tell you that this little Confession series is the equivalent of me standing naked in front of the world. So, if you have a judgement about my messy house, children, or life, kindly be courteous when expressing yourself. I think we can all agree that we feel judged enough living our daily lives.  Also, I'd love to hear your own confessions, and that just won't happen if there is some contentious comments. Okay, now that that is out of the way...here goes, series numero uno:

that mess has been on my bed for two days, waiting to be folded, if sleep beckons, I just move it to the top of my dresser

have not swept in two days

purged the girls' room when they were at school...didn't mean to be sneaky, but not really in the mood to argue with Ava about keeping a toy she played with once...a year ago! (A redemption: I told them at dinner and they didn't seem to care...because we have a big change coming for them this weekend in the spirit of Spring Cleaning)

spent too much money at Wal-Mart, somewhere I NEVER shop for many reasons, but could not resist the $10 microscope and telescope set...yes, $10 for both on Clearance

why was I in Wal-Mart, you ask? well...

1. Chloe has been out of food for two days, surviving on expensive tuna fish, rice, and dog biscuits and it was the only place I could stop at the time
2. Devin and I devoured the Easter candy one night, which, our stomachs proclaimed, was a big mistake

I've spent way too much time on Pinterest this week...hey, some people watch t.v., I get crafty inspiration...

and this little dude, who is beyond sleep deprived has probably watched one too many Yo Gabba Gabbas...

and had one too many Trader Joe's Chocolate Granola Bars (check out his face)...

...and took one too many pictures of me...

it's what I call a flying solo week, the mister away in NYC for work leaves me with little time to worry about the laundry, floors, or my waist (forgot to mention I had chips and salsa for lunch...two days in a row!) At the end of the day, my kids are happy and healthy and the mundane chores provide some sort of solace in the loneliness that post-bedtime becomes without my co-pilot. No matter what way you slice it, there is no getting used to a traveling spouse...there is just making do. So, this week, I made do and I am happy with just that.

Okay, so that is that. My dirty laundry is aired out. My dear readers, if you feel so inclined, please leave me a confession(s) in the comments. For my Facebook readers, I have a dear favor to ask: I'm very close to hitting a "page viewed" milestone, which could actually allow me to expand this little cocoon a bit, so rather than leaving a comment on facebook, could you leave one here...pretty please? Just click on the comment box below this post. Please, if you see fit, share my little cocoon to the masses. (I say this because someone asked me if I would mind if they shared my scribbling...of course not!) Happy Friday to all and may your weekend be full of Spring celebrations.

...oh, one last thing: thank you to my sister-in-law for the inspiration today...you made my day brighter in so many ways. Many miles separate us, but you are always held close to my heart. I love you.