Life Lessons in Our "Less Than Perfect-Mom" Moments"

I was having one of “those” nights last night. Again.

There are just so many things not going smoothly in my life, and aside from feeling worn out from the stress and worry, I am tired of battling with Ms. Magoo, which in turn makes me question myself, worrying that I am not doing it all “right” with her.

By the time we got to her bedroom at bedtime I felt ready to crack. Tears spilled over, and I couldn’t seem to get myself under control for over half an hour.

Then, as these things happen, I sat down to check out Facebook and some blogs that I follow. Great timing.

First up was a great read, shared by Pamela Price, and Marnie Craycroft, called “Yeah. I’m THAT mom.” by Amanda Morgan of Not Just Cute. I almost continued to cry as I read, but realized I was feeling comforted by Amanda’s words. She reminded me that we are not alone. While we can try to tell ourselves over again that we are not the only one who makes mistakes, sometimes we need to actually hear it from another mother to really get it: we can’t be perfect, do it all and get it right every time.

Next, I popped over to a blog I recently discovered, Winds of Lindy, man this girl has a way with words! I read through some of her posts from the week that I had missed, and again, found myself feeling soothed by Lindy’s words as she too spoke of this illusion of perfection that we, as mothers, seem to strive for.

We can only do the best that we can, and each and every one of us makes mistakes. That is part of learning and growing.

Which is one of the most important things that we can teach our children: to get up, try again and learn from their mistakes.

So instead of beating ourselves up when we have a rough day, perhaps we should be patting ourselves on the back for a job well done.

Keeping our chin up, doing the best we can and making the most of it all; those are not really bad things to be teaching our kids are they?

Women's History Month

Growing up I remember being asked the question from a variety of sources, “Who do you look up to?”, and even then I was a little mystified. And yet, although I realized that there was no specific role models that existed in my mind in that sense, I didn’t ever really bother to take the time to dig deeper, or investigate what that could mean to me; to HAVE someone I really looked up to, maybe like a mentor, perhaps as someone I really desired and aspired to be like. There were times through the years when I was faced with this question that my mind would drift towards Oprah, but I would quickly dismiss it as cliché and perhaps just an easy answer.

I just simply don’t recall EVER having anyone, even more specifically, a woman, that I looked up to in this sense. We didn’t ever discuss anything close to celebrating Women’s History Month, and I certainly didn’t realize there were even such occasions back then! In fact, the majority of my life I have either had more friends of the opposite sex, or, as now, simply spent more time in the company of myself; so for really examining the relationships of women in my life, my grandmothers, etc., it has really never been in the forefront of my mind.

Being completely honest, my thoughts on many things have been transformed, or altered over the past year. This would include the relationship with other women; something I have lacked understanding in the value of. I am learning, slowly. I can see it, and am beginning to realize the necessity that actually exists in having a friend or “sister” (of course mother, but I am speaking in the sense of relating to any other woman).

As I look back now, of course I can see that one of the women, one of the most important women, that played a role in my life was my mom. They do say, in the ever popular cliché, that a new bond begins between a mother and daughter, when the daughter becomes a mother herself! But going many years before that, as a young girl I looked up to my mom. I remember being proud, even bragging at times, of having a young mom in comparison to some of my friends; and of course adding that she was pretty! As I grew, amidst the chaos that often exists between moms and their daughters, I still was able to acknowledge the strength that my mom had; dealing with my dad and yet being able to not only go to college, but to excel at the top of her class, only then to move on to working quite successfully for a large company. She had two kids, one of which, ahem, was horrible to deal with, and yet she managed to do not only what was necessary, but she was able to build for herself the life that she truly wanted and deserved. I can certainly say that my mom has taught me many things, whether she is able to see it or not. She has shown me what strength, courage and dedication are all about. Her journey, in so many ways, was/is the lantern that lights my own path.

Laura Ingalls Wilder. How could I have ever forgotten her influence on me from such a young age?! I was captivated by her books, the Little House on the Prairie series and many others. She WAS the “hero” of my childhood in comparison to the other “super heroes” that the kids were into. Laura was the strong, brave and determined girl that grew into an amazingly brilliant woman. I drank in every word of each new dilemma that was faced throughout her life; every new town, the storms, the illnesses. Everything that happened within her family was only a small obstacle in the whole picture of the love and dedication that was shared within that circle.

Oprah. Well, I can now easily admit that I do look up to her. She not only accepted and acknowledged the horrible things in her early life, she absolutely rose above. Above and beyond that personal achievement, she has and continues to do so many wonderful things around the world. The financial and otherwise opportunities that she has provided pale in comparison to the inspiration that she has provided to so many people. She has opened the hearts and minds of an immeasurable amount of people worldwide; she has shown us what it means to give, to receive and to truly live and love in our lives.

There is another woman that I think of now, in this context of great women, empowering women, strong women; I will call her D. She was my boss for a few years, but I also have thought of her as a friend and a teacher. I admire her in so many ways. In the short time that I spent with her, she was the one that seemed to pull the blinders off of my eyes. She brought back to life many things I had touched lightly on throughout my life, but she presented them to me perfectly, exactly as I needed, when I needed. She has shown her own strength in so many ways during her life, and she is truly an example, in my eyes, as to how we could live our lives purely; she makes living our true life, walking our ultimate path look simple!

With this newly opened mind, I could perhaps add a few more women to this little list; my sisters, my grandmothers, my BFF and a couple more well-known names; but I think I have said enough for now!

Women’s History Month…who are some of the women that you look up to and admire for their courage and strengths?

"Cold Hearted Bitch"...Accepted, Proudly!

We wake up one morning and it’s like we are living in a new and exciting world. Everything seems clear and crisp. There is nothing that could take us down from this place that we seem to floating upon. Our resolve to step forward, into the unknown, like nothing we had thought possible. We know we can do anything we put our heart and soul into and no one will stand in the way of that. We know that what is before us is important, crucial and even critical for making the trek back to the true path of our journey. We are ecstatic because it all makes sense now, and that which we have longed for is finally within our grasp.

As women, there is a tendency for something strange to happen when we finally find that clarity that we have been searching for. Suddenly, this new strength that we have found becomes a threat to those around us.

There is another air, one of anxiety that tries to cloud our commitment. Those mixed feelings that come from those around us, those feelings that are purely their own. Those we love and care about, the ones who love us and really do want what is best for us become confused. Their own world has been shifted and they are frightened as to where they fit in, what their new role may be, or if there is one at all.

We become labeled. “Cold hearted bitch” is one name that rings out loudest. It can be uttered from so many different influences in our life, from the men to the women; our parents, siblings, spouses or friends. Our true feelings about what sits in wait ahead for us, become misconstrued and misunderstood. The lack of tolerance for that which we know must change in order to move forward becomes taken as something it could not be farther from. Our approaching success becomes something that others fear, for their own reasons and due to their own insecurities. They are afraid of things that are beyond our control, and in the end have nothing to do with us and our decision.

I am beginning to see how this scene has played out in my life, how my choices in the past have been affected; by worrying about how my own happiness and success would or could affect those few that were close to me in the moment.

I see, how as women, we have continued, one generation after another, to allow others to dominate our bodies and minds. I see how by denying ourselves of that which we were not only entitled, but that which was/is meant for our true journey, we have not only deprived ourselves of precious time, love and true living, but we have robbed those around us that we love. We haven’t allowed anyone to experience the beautiful gifts that we have to offer.

Eyes wide open. Ears, well, open, but sufficiently filtered from the noise that attempted entry…I took one step forward, then another…I realized this was my time and I could never be more ready than I was in that moment.

Comfort, Learn or Teach...?

An old friend, someone who I have mostly lost contact with, but still care about a great deal, seems to be going through a difficult time.

Her statements on Facebook surprise me, and yet echo within. She is vague, but I can only assume that she is speaking of serious issues within her marriage. She received a lot of feedback; leaving her to delete the whole post, re-word and add that some people should keep their opinions to themselves.

This girl was a very close friend many years ago, and sadly, we lost touch for about 14 years. Although we have both expressed desire to see each other and reconnect, we haven’t. So, what I now know about her is formed from pictures and statements via Facebook, or assumed/deemed to be in my mind. That being said, my opinion literally would mean nothing.

Instead, I feel as though my fears were correct. I remember my friend, and the amazing person that she was. I remember her strength and courage, her humor and early wisdom. I also recall the similarities we had in our taste in men; and I know that means difficult days kept silent until you explode.

I think I know from what I see/read, without actually knowing, that she is that same woman today. I imagine, that as it was then, we are still very much the same in some of our hopes/dreams/expectations. I wish we were closer, and yet am afraid of pushing too hard. I sent her a private message, reminding her that I was here for her and hoped she was ok, but haven’t heard back. I feel inside myself that I should be there for her, that I have the silence as well as the empathy to comfort and guide her gently; in her own time and way of course. I don’t know why I feel compelled to be there for her now. She obviously needs her own space to sort out whatever it is that is happening in her life right now; and yet, I feel I have SOMETHING to offer her!?! As it was then, our similar experiences gave us something to relate to with each other; knowing someone else had truly walked that same road. Now, I know our paths since then have been VERY different, and yet, I sense that they have also been very similar.

I think that I may be starting to LOOK deeper into many “relationships” from my past lately. Necessary or not? If I feel the urge to pause and turn around for a moment, I can only assume that is on purpose; I am required to gain something that I missed in the past.

Day #2-Gratitude Journaling

1. I am so grateful for the recent contact with my step daughter! It is so exciting for her dad, I miss her so much too, and I am so hopeful for her to meet her sister!

2. Mmm, the smell of a delicious dinner of chicken, potato, onion, butternut squash and apples, rosemary and garlic….cooking all day in the crock pot; little work required early in the day with a perfect, simple dinner as a result.

3. TIME with my daughter; to learn her characteristics, her stories and her style of communicating.

4. I am appreciative of the surprise visit from hubby/daddy at lunch time; a nice pause in the middle of the day, for mom and Makiya!

5. I am so very grateful for the abundance of food, the ability to “stock up”, the extras we have been able to afford recently; a simple thing, yes, but having a freezer full is something that should never be taken for granted!

I am excited to be giving attention to these “little” things in my life, the wonderful things that flow in, sometimes without a second thought. What an opportunity for growth and understanding, and obviously, the chance to welcome MORE of all that I love and appreciate!

Amber Starfire and my mom, Linda Hoye, are the wonderful ladies that put me back on this journey of journaling my gratitude, so, I should add them as #6 on my list of Gratitude today!

Hope's Breath is an AMAZING Breath of Fresh Air

I came across an absolutely BEAUTIFUL blog recently and just really wanted to share it. I am totally blown away, almost rendered speechless EACH and EVERY time that I read her posts. She takes my breath away with her insights, her wisdom and just an overwhelming sense of PEACE overall.

Please take a moment to stop by http://hopesbreath.blogspot.com/ .

An Expression of Gratitude

Sometimes we are reminded that someone actually HAS played an important part in our life, though we hadn’t realized it. We suddenly discover the purpose behind their coming into our lives. As though we’ve put on a new pair of glasses and we have a new, crisper and clearer vision; we can see this person for who they REALLY are and why they have been a part of our life.

When I was 15, my boyfriend brought a shot gun to school hidden under his jacket. We had dated for 6 months and were coming to a rough end to the relationship. Rumors, of course, said he planned to use the gun on me, or he was going to shoot us both and others said there was no plan, he just wanted to scare me.

This situation of course caused a lot of drama at school between me and several others. Everyone wanted to blame me for the trouble that he was now in and a lot of people “hated” me. (Never mind that he was a young adult with a mind of his own!) People hated me; especially the girlfriend of one of his “groupies”. She would push me into the lockers every time that she passed me in the hallways, of course call me names and generally try to make my life hell. One morning she found me alone in the smoking pit at our school and grabbed me by my wrists and began pushing me around the area saying nasty things to me. That was probably one of my first “serious” or physical confrontations with somebody, and I was unprepared with how to handle it. I was scared. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, another group of people came out. 1 girl didn’t think of what anyone else would say or do; she came right over and told her to let go and leave me alone.

This girl and I knew OF each other, though at that point we likely only knew the other’s name and not much else. Over the next 2 years that we were in high school our circles touched occasionally; we would casually have a cigarette together at school or meet up at a party. I have always remembered her as one of the girls that was usually quite happy, always friendly, funny and fun to be around; but we were by no means close or spent any real time together. Almost 15 years later we came across each other on Facebook and added each other as friends. We have commented on the others page a few times, but nothing in depth. I discovered she had a blog around the same time as mom was urging me to start my own; I was very intrigued and inspired by it. She has a beautiful family, a lot of friends, she takes amazing photos and just appears to be at a really great place in her life. I was overcome with feelings of happiness for her; which is strange considering our lack of closeness. In the end, I would honestly say that it was because of my visits to her blog, getting a glimpse into her world, I decided to give it a try. I can’t fully explain why, but it compelled me go ahead in a way that my mom had not succeeded.

She popped into my head last night as I was getting ready for bed; seeming to come up like one of those unexplainable things that need further exploration or acknowledgement. It struck me that this person, despite how little we actually know about each other, has played an important role in the chain of events of my life TWICE. I always refer to my believing that every person is/has been in our life for a reason, no matter how big or small. I can only say that she was there when I “needed” her. Once, to show me I was not alone, to blame or deserving in the situation that I faced as a kid, and again too guide me back/towards expressing myself the way I always have and always wanted to do. She has seemed to bring a candle to dark hallways that had left me feeling paralyzed by fear or lost in a faceless crowd. While I may not have realized it in the moments, she has been sent to me exactly when I needed her to be there.

While these things may seem insignificant to another, I realized last night that they were monumental for me. I can see and have a fuller appreciation for the fact that she taught me a lot; I wasn’t alone, I didn’t deserve to be a scapegoat, I could have strength, I had a voice, I could be myself and not be afraid of being accepted. While of course I realize that, most likely, she has no idea the role she played for me or the teacher that she was for me. I feel the need to in some small way express my gratitude for this woman and her place in my life. Thank you.

Precious Babies

It is, and in some ways may always be, one of those things that we never talk about. There is always a sense of stigma attached to it. We are often left with an overwhelming sense of loneliness that cannot be filled; we don’t realize that we can and should talk about it.

Many of us, and more of us than we often realize, have suffered the traumatic loss of a baby. It is very sad that, as women, we not only have to go through the tremendous loss itself physically and emotionally, but we get left alone to deal with the emotions afterwards and we can be horrifically labeled for something we had absolutely no control over. In an effort to protect ourselves, we then have a tendency to shut down, disconnect from the loss and become numb to it. We don’t talk about it.

I lost 4 precious angels through Ectopic/Tubal Pregnancy. The first one completely blindsided me; I had no idea that I was pregnant. I was, again, having serious abdominal pain that led me to the doctor after work one night. A test confirmed I was pregnant, but, with no explanation at hand for the rest of my symptoms I was sent home for the evening to return for further testing. The next day became a whirlwind; gynecologists, rushing to the hospital, pain medications and of course the news; I would lose this baby. I was utterly devastated and felt truly alone. No one around me had experienced or could even imagine what I was going through. I was very young, in a new relationship and the only words of “comfort” I received were, “Well at least they got rid of it” from the mother of my boyfriend. With the next 2 Ectopic’s, I was ready. When the pain started, I KNEW what was happening. I would spend a few days in denial, not wanting to go through the experience again. I talked to the babies, I pleaded with them and I apologized for not being able to keep them. Other than that, I was almost numb. I had more people around me when I went through the 2nd and 3rd losses, but I was keeping myself guarded. None of the people that I was surrounded by KNEW what I was feeling inside. The last Ectopic that I had was in some ways the worst to go through. My husband and I had talked about wanting to have a child together. It was something I had wanted so BADLY to happen in my life, though I had resigned myself in many ways to believing I wouldn’t be able to. This time the tornado that swept me away was much more violent. I was in my state of denial again; the feelings were all too familiar. I was at work when I began to shake, feel dizzy, turn white and of course was in severe abdominal pain. The girls finally convinced me to at least call the Health Link to speak with a nurse who insisted I be taken to the hospital immediately. By the time my husband arrived and the news was given, I was higher than a kite on morphine for the pain. This was when they decided to also insist on removing both of my tubes to prevent this from happening again. I wanted to refuse so badly, and at first I did. The pressure and the relaxing/sleepy effects of the drugs allowed me to concede. When I woke up from surgery, I no longer had a baby or the parts required for my body to conceive another. I felt more empty than I ever had before. This time, even though I had many supportive and loving people around me, I was an emotional mess. I was finally grieving for my first three angels as well as the fourth. I was grieving the loss of pieces of my body. This time I was also bothered by the fact that NOT ONCE when I went through this process was I offered any type of guidance or support while in the hospital. Aside from nurses comments, “Wow, this is your 4th, you’re so young…”, no one even came close to saying “This is an extremely difficult thing to go through, I am so sorry. Here are some groups/numbers etc. that can help you deal with what you must be feeling.” I felt that I NEEDED that, so I looked on-line and found a few chat places, message boards, nurses etc. that were specifically for dealing with the emotions and aftermath of an Ectopic Pregnancy. It was something I really had to do for myself, I couldn’t bury the feelings and devastation any more. I had to learn to cope, grieve and try to move forward.

The amazing sense of peace that I found in actually letting it out is something that is hard to find words to fully express. Talking to someone, in person, professionally, in an on-line chat/message board, a group etc. can give the comfort that we desperately search for. I know I thought that I would and could accept, mourn and move forward, but I realized that I couldn’t do it on my own. When I realized that there are so many other wonderful women that have gone through what I had, that have walked the same step, I felt a warm sense of comfort and belonging come over me. While I could never say that I have “gotten over it”, I have come to a better sense of terms with it. It is sometimes easy to become overcome with emotions about it still, but I can accept it a little more. And it always helps to remember that I am NOT ALONE.

I have shared these few details with only a small number of people in my life. Most people know the facts, it happened, it happened 4 times, but I haven’t shared the feelings with many. I think it may even be the first time that I wrote it out like this. It is soothing to write these words. I hope that at least one of you who reads this can identify even a little, and maybe feel just a little less alone in your pain and grief.

I Love you my precious babies…