Allowing the boy to be

Raising a child with a mind of his own is a wonderful thing - independent thought and expression is all I ever wanted... in a world where social and peer pressure dominates thought and expression.

Seeing him ask questions was rewarding.. seeing him logically remove our pre-conceived notions about the way 'it should be' was another.

The pillars of what we think is 'the way its done' is steadily questioned as he asks 'why should I stay awake in the and sleep at night...?' Umm.. because there is no sun at night?

More than anything: 'mommy - every time you pick me up just before 4 pm. Is it because you know I dont want you to pick me up late?'

OR

'Hey you are interrupting me - that not fair!'

All of these are not negligible questions that can be brushed aside.. because.. they are not illegitimate.

However being open to this new thought means letting go the idea that my word goes all the time and he has no or little say seeing as he's little.

It means accepting that all things are a matter of choice or perception.

Jeez.

Traveling minus the boy

I realize I've done a good job of traveling with the child when he says 'please mommy - can I come? I have so much fun at airports.'

So this time whisking the child away was not an option since there were grandparents visiting and the plan was too last-minute to meaningfully take the child with us.

I left with very instructions and no preparation.

I also left with minimal sentiments seeing as it was THE day of his 5th birthday. I'm really proud of myself for having stayed the course.

Turns out the best thing about time away from the child is recognizing how much less instruction/interaction we can do with to make the being-around-each-other-process enjoyable.

Editing this to add that not being around the spouse-and-child led me to the wonderful discovery that they had a relationship all their own. They had a beautiful rhythm with each leaning on the other ... all I had to do was to step back and let it bloom.

Confidence and the stay-at-home-mom

It seems incredible to me now, as a mom who works, to think of the incredible self-confidence issues I faced.. even with closest friends.

How could I justify a whole day spent without a meaningful deadline?

How do I explain that I spent all day potty-training my 2 year old without people thinking Im just looking inefficent?

How do I justify feeling tired when supposedly I live in a big house with a little toddler and no money-insecurities?

The deadlines at work, harsh though they could be, can never compare to the delicate task of making timely meals for a little child who rejects everything.

The whole day at work can never equal the emotional strain of keeping sanity and cheer around a child who can take all of the energy one can give and STILL be unhappy.

Looking back - Im incredibly proud of finding the spirit to make some friends, the will to keep them and more than anything - the space in my heart to try to have some fun.

So many days it was a question of being able to feel happy despite that all I achieved in the day was just keeping the child safe and fed.

It really is a job worth thousands of dollars - considering there is nothing that can replace those years which I thankfully viewed as an incredible opportunity to pour my heart and soul into a little being who would hopefully take solace in that he is loved... as life tears at his will and self-esteem.

That job... was fighting the good fight.

This job - is just earning money. 

Behind Enemy Lines

Apparently its progressive to talk about mental illness and struggle.

Which means I was progressive from 8 years ago - haha.

Anyway: there was this poster on Pinterest which said 'Seeking for help when you have suicidal thoughts' is not a sign of needing-help, that its the greatest sign of strength to seek assistance though some part of you has completely broken down - despite which, one still has the courage to stand up and seek assistance.

I couldn't agree more.

Fighting post-partum depression, post-graduation depression and every kind there is, I now see why I feel a kinship with anyone who is grieving for a lost one or other major losses or failures in life...

Losing hope is akin to breathing but never feeling the air.

Losing perspective is like seeing without understanding.

The idea of seeing seeking assistance as a sign of survival is such an easy to show empathy - to ourselves, to begin with.

Almost every person I meet is essentially a result of their victory or failure to the demons that pervade through the silence, distance or family.

To the extent one wins, one stays alive.

Compassion versus Empathy

Always thought I was a empathetic person when I suddenly realized empathy and compassion are two different things.

Compassion was the desire to help those in pain or trouble - very honorable and useful for my role as a mommy but completely useless when it comes to managing life.

Compassion.. first to the self was the golden rule which I had quietly forgotten.

When I found my sight fading and breath quickening on that day outside the foot orthotic store, I recognized that compassion wouldn't save my life or get me to my goals.

Empathy would.

Empathy has an element of logic attached to it - an understanding which meant I could decide how or when to help/feel/speak.

If one is juggling many roles like I am, the foundation used to make decisions is everything.

Worry number 6: If I am good to mean people, I will become them.

Having been kind to many people most of the time.. all the time, I have been stabbed in the back a few times. Few times compared to perhaps the average person, but by folks very close to me.

I have been derailed, hurt and left for dead.

If it were not for family I would not be here today to tell the tale.

Now the interesting thing is, though I am kind I am no saint. And I never considered being kind, again, to these offending parties.

However... turns out if the person is alone, sick or completely disheartened... my heart melts all over again and I am good to them. Giving of myself.

Initially I judged myself for being too soft and a sucker to please people.

I decided to give myself some more credit for being wise when I began to read literature supporting the idea of being kind to those who have hurt you.

'How you behave speaks volumes about you... how the other person behaves is enough said about them.' (thankyou, Marc and Angel).

Seeing as I consider myself a role model to my son... (all moms are - whether they admit it or not) - I picked the risky choice of showing empathy to those around.. whether they liked me or not.

I've been doing this for a few weeks and last time I checked  - I still recognize the person in the mirror. Perhaps more than before.

So, I have healed and grown - and the only way to show that is to do good where cruelty was received.

Worry number whatever: I'll forget to feel the sunshine if I work too hard

I began to wake up early to make food for the family so I could get to work without a guilt complex.
I began returning when the sun was fading.

Once family visited, I began to worry about all the hard work I would do to help them be at ease and still get my job done.

I made sure my child still laughed. The house still smelt lovely of food in the mornings. That we still found friends to hang out with.

Simple remedies to heavier schedules.

Now - for the "worry" that perhaps.. PERHAPS... the sun would never shine properly again.

Until someone said to me 'My dear - I have faith in you. Just listen to the Sound of music song' about 'confidence' and start doing!!

I focused hard on that thought... and slowly began to feel my son's laughter again.
Slowly realized the shackles of expectation from the self began to loosen.

The self-created images of perfection and perceived slights faded away.

I see now that all there is... is me and my intention.

Once my intention is in place - I can accept errors, inefficiencies, slip-ups and more.

"I simply remember my favorite things and then I dont feel so baaaaaaaad.' :)

How do I create habits - worry number four

Aware of the power I had to create for this family a routine which could make or break - I was left paralyzed for a long time by - you guessed it -- too much choice.

In the face of great choice - like I always do - I go for the very basics... faith, fitness and fun.

The slow two-hour argument-ridden outings slowly morphed into extended day-long park visits which the whole family could live through without a meltdown.

The bored sit-downs which were treated as the bane of a busy persons's life on a friday evening - now is a cherished break from the daily demanding routine of never-ending responsibilities.

The crowning glory for sure was the bike ride this morning. Hardly upto it, doing it purely because I was asked to - I ended up embarking on one of the best rides in san diego. ever. The blossoms were heavenly... the lake was full and the partner carefree. We could view for miles what otherwise whizzed past us on the freeway.

Pushing back guilt for a child left behind for this bike ride, we head back worrying for the child. He was more than okay - busy getting his way with the grandparents.

It took me only 4 years to get to this point. If anyone wants to know how to get two workaholics to like having fun - just ping me. I am dead serious.

stand up series 3 - my life as i know it has ended ever since i had babies

okay so I cant sleep in anymore.

Its not too bad to just wake up and see a few (many many many ) orange glows outside the window. And besides - it really isn't the worst thing to begin waking up early. I know -- its the final sign that one has grown up - and so what - nothing like having a baby to drive home the point.
One has to actually be frickin responsible all the time.

Okay so that means I have to make - "make" a breakfast each morning. So what? Nothing can really perk one up better than the smell of a well-cooked (Fill in the blanks - omlette/pancake/...?)

Okay so I can't watch tv anymore, really.

Well nothing like watching tom and jerry or gummy bears to really drive the sillies out of the head.

Okay so I can never really talk to my spouse ever again. ever since our son turned 3 - his favorite response to seeing his parents talk is "mommy - daddy - I want to talk too!"

Encouraging social development is a great goal but it spells a dry dry spell for parental inter-relationship. Oh so what? Time to make the most of  5-minute morning conversation or a hurried at-work phonecall or nothing is as hell-sweet as a 30-minute tv session once the child hits the sack. The sweetness only earned from 2-hours of wishing for some deserved quiet-time.

And that brings me to the mother of all grouches - no me-time! Bath time is a kid sobbing at the door. Reading time is a kid jumping on the lap. Tv time is a kid sulking to get his own tv show. OH joy.

So - give the child a puzzle while one showers. Bargain for tv time and get my lazy ass to read instead of gorging on tv once the chlid is in bed.

Now Im developing new ideas: take the child to the library and read there while the kid runs riot on toys. Give the child a drawing book so I can do my cartooning on the side.

So there - worry number 3 - I can never have my life back is gone.

Besides - was my old 'life' so worthy of regret? I never had anyone sob for me. Or stop crying just because I hugged them. Or ever asked me - how long can I hug your tummy before you get mad? Jeez, lets get real. 

Everyone will think I'm an idiot: Worries that were invalid # 2

It didn't matter, apparently, that I had two masters degrees to my name.
I always harbored the worry that everyone will eventually think I don't measure up.

In a new workplace, this translated into my being hesitant to ask questions.
To my child, I was afraid of showing him I did not know.
In family, I refrained from saying what I really thought - what if I sounded off target?

It came to a head when I recognized I was not asking or being heard: far from communication - I was heading deeper into myself.

It was a bit like talking to mirrors. It helps but doesnt help you find the road.

So I began to speak up. Began to say what I did do or did not. What I did know and did not.
It turns out - people expected me to have these questions.
More often than not - people expected me to know less, not more.
More often than not - someone benefited from my saying what I did.

Soon, I actually began to find a 'voice'. A pattern of opinion-formation. A manner of stating a fact but acknowledging it did not address the whole situation.
I began to see that my voice was just that - a voice.
One voice in a crowd but heck it was MY voice and it needed to be heard.

It takes many to make a sound, and only one - to make noise.

This set me free.

Turns out everyone is an idiot at some point - the real idiots are the ones who never tried to use their voice. I used to be that idiot.

Stand - up Series: Worry that was invalidated - # 1

This stand-up app was something I downloaded to force myself to not sit down for too long at work. Being a newly-converted member of the full-time-mom force, I thought to take precautions to stay healthy.

I needn't have worried. Turns out burning calories in plentiful is possible when one works directly with top-level management.

Walking up and down the hallways was nothing new - when one needs to counsel with the manager every other part of the day. Seizing up with nerves and the strain of not-listening to the liberal doses of spanish around you... apparently, also counts.

Oh and lets not forget lifting the heavy kid once home... out of a need to chide, hug or guide -- lifting uses the muscles like little else does. Oh and there's the dishes you (share - not dump-on) the spouse.. and the constant moving of furniture back-to-where-they-came-from.

So all in all -- working out and when - need not have been a concern. Between focusing on rainbow colors and calorie consumption - I am one of those funny moms who worried about something that was never to happen!