It's 12:30 am and I promised my husband I would be in bed over an hour ago. I'm going to be tired tomorrow. But, I'll get up and take care of everything like always. Drink a lot of caffeine and go about my duties. It's a routine I know well as I've been doing variations of this for the last 6 years.
I don't know if it's the summer, or just that overall feeling that we are moving on to the next stages of life that has been keeping me up to sometimes 2 am every night for the last few weeks. It's been a mixture of uneasiness, anxiousness and a little excitement.
All of a sudden (or what seems like all of a sudden), I have some time to think. Like waking up out of a blur. Ok, not like waking up out of a blur, I have been in a constant state infant blur to which I am just recovering from. My little one is just shy of 2. She's getting easier to deal with and instead of finding myself knocked up again (as I had been when the other two where her age) I now how some... free time (gasp!).
Free time is something I've never been good at. Looking back if there was a sliding scale from Lazy to 'Go-Get-Em' I would be about a 3... on a good day. Being a mother though has kicked Lazy Stef's ass out and told her to do the piling up loads of laundry, go to the store, have dinner cooked and for goodness sake DO SOMETHING FUN WITH YOUR KIDS. I know you all have that same inner voice yelling at you too. There is ALWAYS something to be done.
Well, I am doing most of that stuff, with a teeny bit little time left over. And I feel like it's time to start doing something for myself. The problem? Well, the stuff I need to do for myself is something I've never been able to do before.
I'm overweight. Have been since early 20's. The funny thing is I like who I am much more than I ever did at a reasonable weight. It's the best feeling to love who you are. But realistically I need to lose 80lbs. Dreaming...100 lbs. And I think about all the stuff I want to do with my kids are are growing faster than I can grasp. Yet this extra weight I carry is like carrying all 3 my children all day long.
Around my neck.
Around my legs.
Around my waist.
I have always faced weight loss as a vanity issue. Now it really comes down to a quality of life issue. The weight will start getting in the way of fun stuff we do as a family. Roller coasters, hiking, swimming. They can be done, but honestly, not very well.
If I haven't been able to figure this out by now, at almost 35 years old. How can I start? Where do I start? I don't know. I just know I have to start.
Where I've been is on the edge of feeling simultaneously that I can do something great... mentally I'm ready, physically I need it. But also life can't stop so I can do this HUGE thing. This long time consuming, challenging thing that might as well be me learning how to be in two places at once.
So, lately I've been using that extra bit of time for other worthwhile and fulfilling projects. Good, but at this time of night with nothing but my thoughts and the guilt of how to be a good role model for my girls, rest can't find me.
I just continue to sit on the edge with my feet dangling, watching the other cool Moms playing in the deep end. Sitting here I'm safe. Jumping in means 'sink or swim'. And after just learning to swim through this whole motherhood thing, I'm just not sure I have the stamina to go there. The fear of drowning is keeping me here. For now. I hope.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Monday, June 11, 2012
From Whence You Came
During college I had a friend, more a girlfriend of my boyfriend's friend, who happily referred to herself as 'daddy's princess'. No, seriously. They went to Disney world like 4 times a year and when her sister got married in her 30's she had a Disney princess theme. It was all a bit shocking to my system as I had grown out of that phase at age 5 or so.
When she and my boyfriend's friend got engaged, we were all invited to her hometown for a bridal shower. I remember one of her closest college friends pulled us 'newbies' aside and said, "When we go to her hometown, you will understand why she is the way she is." Sure enough, after 2 days with her parents, aunts and other close friends and family, I realized that she wasn't the crazy one. She had only absorbed crazy growing up and knew nothing more.
When she was around her family it was like she was the missing piece of the puzzle. She was a perfect match to the environment. She wasn't the loud one anymore, she wasn't the biggest 'princess', in fact she seemed downright subdued comparatively. I DID understand her more. And felt sorry for my friend who was marrying into all that.
Personally, I had always felt a little 'wierd' growing up. I liked to wear black, my brother's cammo, my Dad's high school letter jacket and my sister's big 80's jewelry. The more unique the stuff, the better. So when I left to go to OU, I thought I would fit right in. Turns out my liking to shower daily and lack of experimentation with drugs kept me from fitting in with the hippie crowd. And I didn't care as much about my looks to fit in the sorority crowd. After a year and a half I moved on.
Moving to UC was much better, I liked to think of my DAAP class as the 'Island of the Misfit Toys'. There were the typical driven freshman, but also an exceptionally large amount of transfers. Those of us who were over the newness of college and through different circumstances had found our way to that strange building with strange hours and strange professors. Not one was the same, but we were all linked by the same ridiculousness that 5 years brought us. Some I clicked with more than others but we all had the same battlefield alliance no outside person could relate to.
The last 10 years have brought an expansiveness to our lives with new church acquaintances, mommy friends, neighbors, etc. We all have something in common that I truly enjoy being a part of.
Last weekend I went back to my hometown to celebrate the birthday of a best friend since birth. At midnight I found myself surrounded by girls, now women, who had spent their formidable childhood/teenage years together. There were the same old stories, a lot of laughing, beer, yoga pants, stretch marks, no make-up and pony tails. But most important was the unmistakable sense of home. The moment I no longer felt like a fish out of water, but piece of the landscape.
I never want to move back. I have a happy life with my family a few hours away, but sometimes it's nice to go where people know (and helped create) the skeletons in your closet and who knew you before you figured it out yourself. As different as we all are now, we all had this small town in common that shaped who we were to become.
Most importantly, after that weekend, it's really nice to know I'm not all that crazy. I just absorbed a large amount of it growing up :)
When she and my boyfriend's friend got engaged, we were all invited to her hometown for a bridal shower. I remember one of her closest college friends pulled us 'newbies' aside and said, "When we go to her hometown, you will understand why she is the way she is." Sure enough, after 2 days with her parents, aunts and other close friends and family, I realized that she wasn't the crazy one. She had only absorbed crazy growing up and knew nothing more.
When she was around her family it was like she was the missing piece of the puzzle. She was a perfect match to the environment. She wasn't the loud one anymore, she wasn't the biggest 'princess', in fact she seemed downright subdued comparatively. I DID understand her more. And felt sorry for my friend who was marrying into all that.
Personally, I had always felt a little 'wierd' growing up. I liked to wear black, my brother's cammo, my Dad's high school letter jacket and my sister's big 80's jewelry. The more unique the stuff, the better. So when I left to go to OU, I thought I would fit right in. Turns out my liking to shower daily and lack of experimentation with drugs kept me from fitting in with the hippie crowd. And I didn't care as much about my looks to fit in the sorority crowd. After a year and a half I moved on.
Moving to UC was much better, I liked to think of my DAAP class as the 'Island of the Misfit Toys'. There were the typical driven freshman, but also an exceptionally large amount of transfers. Those of us who were over the newness of college and through different circumstances had found our way to that strange building with strange hours and strange professors. Not one was the same, but we were all linked by the same ridiculousness that 5 years brought us. Some I clicked with more than others but we all had the same battlefield alliance no outside person could relate to.
The last 10 years have brought an expansiveness to our lives with new church acquaintances, mommy friends, neighbors, etc. We all have something in common that I truly enjoy being a part of.
Last weekend I went back to my hometown to celebrate the birthday of a best friend since birth. At midnight I found myself surrounded by girls, now women, who had spent their formidable childhood/teenage years together. There were the same old stories, a lot of laughing, beer, yoga pants, stretch marks, no make-up and pony tails. But most important was the unmistakable sense of home. The moment I no longer felt like a fish out of water, but piece of the landscape.
I never want to move back. I have a happy life with my family a few hours away, but sometimes it's nice to go where people know (and helped create) the skeletons in your closet and who knew you before you figured it out yourself. As different as we all are now, we all had this small town in common that shaped who we were to become.
Most importantly, after that weekend, it's really nice to know I'm not all that crazy. I just absorbed a large amount of it growing up :)
Friday, March 30, 2012
Dear Isla (And Middle Children Everywhere)
Dear Isla,
I composed this letter to you as I took a shower this morning, before I cried and after I screamed at you. I want so much for you to know, one day, why your mommy loses it on what seems to be a regular basis lately. My dear child, you are a wonder, an amazement. And I feel have pretty much tried to undo me since my pregnancy began with you.
I want to write this, to have this out into the universe, so that one day you can know what it was like from my point of view, because I know you will not know the internal turmoil I go through struggling on how to raise you, how to do right by you.
In a few weeks my dear you will be a total of 4 years old. With your older sister I remember the defiance melting away on the day she turned 4. I feel though defiance is welded in your soul, something age and time will never take away.
I tell people all the time that ultimately YOU are the one I will never have to worry about. You will NEVER do ANYTHING you don't want to do. You voice your opinion, stand up to your beliefs. This will be a wonderful attribute one day when peer pressure to try drugs or have sex has entered your world. You will never follow the crowd.
My only fear is that you will lead it.
Your defiance and stubbornness at this age though has a much different challenge because you do not yet have the knowledge of life that I do. My job is to teach you what I know. I know that car driving through the parking lot can't see you as you dart out in front of it. I know that children can be taken when they run far away & hide from their parents in a public space. I know kids can get very sick by putting unknown substances in their mouths. That in some rare cases these things can take precious children away from their parents that only want to protect them.
But you only know that yell, never hearing the worry, sadness and anxiety behind the scolding. And as much as I can tell you its because I love you, I feel like you don't really feel it. And I know for sure that you don't understand it.
My biggest fear is you will only grow resentful. Resentful of all the punishments you incur that your sisters never do. Resentful of the threats of no birthday parties and visits with friends. Resentful of the moments when I snap and grab your arms and half cry/ scream for you to sit in time out, only to have you jump up and scream in that angry, sad cry, "NO, I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! YOU'RE NOT MY MOMMY ANYMORE!"
Resentfulness that will ultimately block out any useful item your daddy and I want you to know and protect you from. I know this from experience.
I remember growing up with 'the middle child'. I remember being scared out of my wits as my defiant teenage brother stood his ground with my angry parents. There was some violence, a lot of screaming and on my part, a lot of fear. I watched my brother on the outside so strong, physically and emotionally. Only later I saw deep wonderful sensitive & resilient soul that I love and admire today. He was a rock but inside a brilliant gem. I see so much of him in you. I see how diverse his world is, how he could navigate any place his choices took him and made it out the other side a better person. I also remember that some of those places were the result of impulsive (& sometimes poor) choices. Once he was an adult he there was nothing else Mom & Dad could do but watch, they could no longer force him into into the choices they knew best. From my point of view I loved watching him prove them wrong. To this day I'm pretty sure they are the most proud of him, mostly because of his journey. As backward as it was, they parented the best they knew how and view him as a success. But even well into middle age, I know my brother doesn't see his experience growing up as anything but traumatic.
How do I, my dear child, harness your spirit without crushing it?
I see glimmers of your incredible soft and loving side as you gently rub your great-grandmothers hand and speak to her like you would your best friend. You are the first to give the most incredible hugs and cuddle. You seem to gravitate and draw out those who need it. Your smiles are unabashed and infectious. You are naturally exuberant and enigmatic. A truly strong life force to be reckoned with.
There never in this world will be another Isla. And in many ways that's a good thing. We only need one. Her strong spirit, minus her diminutive size, can be crushing to those with more submissive souls. Myself being one.
Know dear that I struggle daily with the best way
To discipline you.
To guide you.
To encourage you.
And most importantly to love you. I am your mommy. And always will be.
I composed this letter to you as I took a shower this morning, before I cried and after I screamed at you. I want so much for you to know, one day, why your mommy loses it on what seems to be a regular basis lately. My dear child, you are a wonder, an amazement. And I feel have pretty much tried to undo me since my pregnancy began with you.
I want to write this, to have this out into the universe, so that one day you can know what it was like from my point of view, because I know you will not know the internal turmoil I go through struggling on how to raise you, how to do right by you.
In a few weeks my dear you will be a total of 4 years old. With your older sister I remember the defiance melting away on the day she turned 4. I feel though defiance is welded in your soul, something age and time will never take away.
I tell people all the time that ultimately YOU are the one I will never have to worry about. You will NEVER do ANYTHING you don't want to do. You voice your opinion, stand up to your beliefs. This will be a wonderful attribute one day when peer pressure to try drugs or have sex has entered your world. You will never follow the crowd.
My only fear is that you will lead it.
Your defiance and stubbornness at this age though has a much different challenge because you do not yet have the knowledge of life that I do. My job is to teach you what I know. I know that car driving through the parking lot can't see you as you dart out in front of it. I know that children can be taken when they run far away & hide from their parents in a public space. I know kids can get very sick by putting unknown substances in their mouths. That in some rare cases these things can take precious children away from their parents that only want to protect them.
But you only know that yell, never hearing the worry, sadness and anxiety behind the scolding. And as much as I can tell you its because I love you, I feel like you don't really feel it. And I know for sure that you don't understand it.
My biggest fear is you will only grow resentful. Resentful of all the punishments you incur that your sisters never do. Resentful of the threats of no birthday parties and visits with friends. Resentful of the moments when I snap and grab your arms and half cry/ scream for you to sit in time out, only to have you jump up and scream in that angry, sad cry, "NO, I'M NOT GOING TO DO IT! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! YOU'RE NOT MY MOMMY ANYMORE!"
Resentfulness that will ultimately block out any useful item your daddy and I want you to know and protect you from. I know this from experience.
I remember growing up with 'the middle child'. I remember being scared out of my wits as my defiant teenage brother stood his ground with my angry parents. There was some violence, a lot of screaming and on my part, a lot of fear. I watched my brother on the outside so strong, physically and emotionally. Only later I saw deep wonderful sensitive & resilient soul that I love and admire today. He was a rock but inside a brilliant gem. I see so much of him in you. I see how diverse his world is, how he could navigate any place his choices took him and made it out the other side a better person. I also remember that some of those places were the result of impulsive (& sometimes poor) choices. Once he was an adult he there was nothing else Mom & Dad could do but watch, they could no longer force him into into the choices they knew best. From my point of view I loved watching him prove them wrong. To this day I'm pretty sure they are the most proud of him, mostly because of his journey. As backward as it was, they parented the best they knew how and view him as a success. But even well into middle age, I know my brother doesn't see his experience growing up as anything but traumatic.
How do I, my dear child, harness your spirit without crushing it?
I see glimmers of your incredible soft and loving side as you gently rub your great-grandmothers hand and speak to her like you would your best friend. You are the first to give the most incredible hugs and cuddle. You seem to gravitate and draw out those who need it. Your smiles are unabashed and infectious. You are naturally exuberant and enigmatic. A truly strong life force to be reckoned with.
There never in this world will be another Isla. And in many ways that's a good thing. We only need one. Her strong spirit, minus her diminutive size, can be crushing to those with more submissive souls. Myself being one.
Know dear that I struggle daily with the best way
To discipline you.
To guide you.
To encourage you.
And most importantly to love you. I am your mommy. And always will be.
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