Filed under: Lookism | Tags: Beauty, Weight, Appearance, Redefining Beauty, Oppression
The other day I was spending some time with my 2 year old niece. We were driving home from the mall, chatting about random things. One of the things she said was, “I told someone at the mall that I weigh 30 pounds. What’s your number?” Of course, coming from a 2 year old, it’s a totally innocent question and means nothing. But it made me sad for a minute, because I know that in less than 10 years there is a very very good chance that she will be obsessed with, and believe that she’s defined by, all of her “numbers.” Weight. Size. Inches. Pounds. Calories. Grams. I wish for her that a massive miracle happens and that somehow she finds her way through all of that without losing herself in it.
I found a website called Beauty Redefined the other day. I’ve spent a bit of time checking out what they have to say, and at this point I can say I really really like it. I would recommend checking it out.
Filed under: Daily Life, Kids | Tags: Anxiety, Junk Food, Kid's Health, Paranoia, Parenting, Pre-School, Worry
When I haven’t taken time to do the things that refuel me, I turn into a freak. I worry and I fret and I’m anxious. And of course, a huge target in times like these is my kids. Oh no…they haven’t had fruit or vegetables all day. They don’t drink enough milk. I haven’t taken them to the dentist. I haven’t even taken them for their 2 year check-ups. When was the last time I read to them? If I don’t read enough with them when they’re young they’ll hate reading. Crap. Can Wilson even see?? What am I gonna do about pre-school. They’re not potty trained. They won’t be ready. WhatamIgonnado.
Deep breath.
I’m tired of the books and the information and the shoulds that exist these days when it comes to raising kids. Every once in a while I find it helpful to look something up. But when I start cracking the books open when I’m in my freak zone, it’s not a good scene.
I grew up with a glass of Kool-Aid in my hand. I ate white bread, white pasta and fried bologna. There was a 2 year stretch where I had a bag of chips, a chocolate bar, and a Coke EVERY DAY. And I’m alive. I also almost never wore a seat belt in the vehicle, andI didn’t even attend pre-school. (Maybe that explains some things?) Last time I checked, I’m not dead yet.
It’s time for me to relax and trust that I can do this, and that my instincts will guide me, and that the people in my village will help me along when I get stuck. I can do this. I think we all can. And I’m pretty sure that our kids are gonna be ok.
Filed under: Daily Life, Kids | Tags: Kids, long weekend, motherhood, Truth
Happy long weekend. 
I have a crappy attitude today about this extra day off. You see, some days I’d rather be at work than playing with my kids. That might seem like a horrible thing to say, but there it is. So today I’m trying desperately to change my crappy attitude into something more like – What a BLESSING to be able to spend another entire day with my kids!!! Ok, that totally does not sound like me. How about something more like – Ok, another day to spend some time with and get to know my kids…I can do this.
I have been realizing that part of what I’m finding difficult about being a mom is how experiential it is. And also how in-the-moment. These are obviously good things for me to grow in, spots of my personality that need work. I have always preferred to live in my head and in my ideas than in actual real life. I would way rather sit and observe and have a conversation with the people in the bleachers than go participate in the game. And of course I am better at thinking about the past or the future than actually living in the moment. SIGH. Again I ask, is this all I have to work with?! Sometimes it is easy to convince myself that I am not good at this, that I don’t feel the same way about being a mom and that therefore I should not be one. I totally know that these are lies, and that I am a good mom. But some days it just takes longer for me to get my head to the right spot – to the truth. It is easier to spot the truth for someone else than it is to spot it for yourself.
Anyway. Today, even though I am sick (STILL?), I will be doing things like freezing my ass off at the zoo, going to the University to look at dinosaur bones and riding the “ellegrator,” and I may even get to ride the city bus. Oh boy. Starbucks will be required!
So, did everyone survive another Valentine’s Day? That is one day that I find causes a lot of people unnecessary pain. I can’t stand it. If you’re not in a relationship, it sucks. If you’re living in a relational nightmare, it sucks. If you’re in a mediocre relationship, it sucks. Unbelievable! And to be honest, when the rules look like this: man must buy woman flowers; woman will be elated; man will be hero – I will never buy in. It’s all really lame, don’t ya think? Admittedly, I can be a real downer about these things.
There is a dark cloud following me everywhere lately. I want it to go away. It convinces me that I might as well not write anything because it’s not good enough. And it won’t be smart. And it won’t be happy or hopeful. And it might not make any sense at all to anyone but me.
In this moment I’m flipping the dark cloud the bird and will write whether it makes sense or not.
I’ve been sick lately. Just a cold/flu. But when I’m sick I lose myself. And I can’t force me to come back. I have to wait. No matter what old tricks I try I can’t make it happen. So, I just keep getting out of bed and going through the motions and hoping that maybe tomorrow my self will be back.
In light of recent news that one of my cousins now has lung cancer after a few years of dealing with breast cancer, I am extra freaked out about this losing self thing. It’s one thing to feel crappy. It’s another to not be who you are. I guess I’m lucky (or naive?) to have not had to think about that before.
Maybe I worry too much.
For 2 years people have been telling me that kids grow up so fast and that I need to enjoy every moment because of that. And I couldn’t believe them for a millisecond. Especially in the baby days. Those were bad. But today I found myself looking down at Wilson when he was sitting in my lap and I felt shocked for a second when I saw how big he is now. I remembered when he was a baby, how his heels just reached the edge of my legs when I was giving him a bottle. Now his knees are at the edge of my leg, and his heels are hanging way off. It was one of those weird WHOA moments.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m still bitter that people would dare to tell me to enjoy the baby days. And there’s no.way. that I would ever wish for the baby days back. But. I am beginning to see how at some point in the future I will say that they grew up so fast and that I don’t know where the time went. But for now, I can tell you where every minute went. They can still be very long.
But mark my words: Even when I realize that what they said was true I will never repeat those words to a new mother. Ever. It’s just not helpful.
Should We Talk to Kids About Skin Color?
I recently read this post, and thought I’d share it with you just in case you’re interested.
I have wanted to log in and post something for a long long time. The problem is that my brain is not really putting thoughts together in a way that makes writing things all that easy. I’m not sure what’s going on. Well, I guess I have some ideas. Anyway, I’m tired of not posting anything due to brain dysfunction. So here I am.
I will start by telling you about a conversation I had with my kid this morning. You will need to know that “Aunty” is our last daycare provider, and that what I didn’t know a few months ago when I told you she ran away or something is that she was dead. And because I thought it was possible that she really might have ran away, I told the boys that she was sick. And then when I found out what happened, I just kept telling them that she was sick because I didn’t know what else to tell them. You see, I’ve never had to talk to a 2 year old about death before, and so my first idea was to not tell them the truth. Here’s a hot tip: it turns out that that may not be a good idea. Because then they think that anything and anyone that is sick is not coming back. So, back to my conversation from this morning:
Kid: “Aunty’s sick mommy?”
Me: “Actually, Aunty’s dead.”
Silence.
Kid: “Aunty’s dead? Aunty went away?”
Me: “That’s right.”
Kid: “Aunty went outside?”
Me: “Ummm, Aunty’s dead.”
So, I think the truth went ok. Life must be so confusing for a 2 year old. I can’t imagine having to figure all this stuff out for the first time. To this point, all that we’ve talked about that is dead is batteries. But it seemed like he was almost thinking FINALLY, someone is telling me the truth. Why do these people not think I can handle the truth? Finally I can make some sense of this – Aunty’s not sick, she’s gone.
We’ll see how this continues to unfold. The other kid doesn’t think about things too much, or if he does, he doesn’t really talk about it. This kid thinks about a lot, and talks about it. All the time. Sometimes I am having a day where I haven’t thought about what happened and then the extroverted thinker kid will inevitably say something about Aunty. And my brain doesn’t always know how to process what happened so it feels like my best defense is to not think about it at all. You see, this stuff doesn’t happen in real life. Which apparently is one of those false beliefs I’ve had so that I can function in this great big scary world. And now that my belief has been blown apart, I need to come up with something else so that I can continue to function. Hmmmm. Will let you know how that goes.
2 years ago today a family was created.
It was mine. Oh, the shock that we were just about to experience. The exhaustion we felt even at this point right here. They had just got off the plane from Haiti in Ottawa and we had been waiting for days in Montreal. The days we were waiting were incredibly nerve wracking and almost felt like torture. But I did get what I had been fighting for. So, here we are in our first 5 minutes of meeting our kids. And someone smelled like poop. HOW DO I CHANGE A DIAPER??? (I still have no idea who took this picture. Some saint who knew that we would want some kind of picture of our first moments together.)
2 years later, it feels like we might make it. There are many bright and amazing moments mixed in with all the very very dark moments. In the beginning it seemed like it was mainly very very dark moments. For far too long to even mention. I was a black hole of need. But there were so many people who gathered around and supported and that was cool. I don’t feel like I’m just barely hanging on by a thread anymore. Praise be.
So much stuff has happened in the last 2 years I can’t even believe it. Take one thing out of 4 that happened and that would be good enough to count as “the big thing” that I had to work through in life. But no. It is one of the 4 big things that I had to work through in 2 years. When people tell me that it feels like that 2 years went by so fast, they get a very long, empty look. It makes me want to dress up like a clown and scare them half to death. I’d do that but I’d be way too scared of myself. 2 years has felt like an eternity.
But we made it. The boys are healthy and happy and absolutely vibrant. (Something this introvert needs to figure out. Sooner would be better…) They bring the party (something else this introvert has to get used to). They are both such unique little people and I can’t wait to continue to get to know who they are. And there is something about this experience that forces change in myself, which is hard, and really really good.
I’ve been thinking about this post I saw on Donald Miller’s blog for nearly a month. It hits me somewhere deep inside where words don’t even go. In light of recent events, I like to read it frequently. It helps keep fear and paranoia at bay.
