I have started many blogs in the last two weeks, but haven't posted any of them. Sometimes my blog ends up being a journal of personal thoughts that I am working through but others never see. One of my latest struggles that I have been battling, that I will share, is finding the balance of being a mom and a protector to my kids while also letting them stand on their own two feet.
The conclusion I have drawn is that a lot of people's kids suck. Not mine, at least not in the way I am thinking, but in my experience as a former child and now a parent, I remain baffled by unkind behavior. And to take it a step further, girls are the WORST. Thus far, my kids are pretty sensitive. They try to include everyone when they are in groups, and truly never talk badly about another child. Never. My kids aren't saints by any stretch, but they do show compassion and kindness. Therefore, when they are playing with other children and are excluded by actions or hurtful words, it shocks them. They just don't understand. Internally, I seethe when I see it happen, but the cold hard fact is not everyone is going to like them, and I need to, at times, let them navigate what the rough waters of childhood look like. However, when I see my youngest square her shoulders and walk ramrod straight away from a group of kids, I know that she trying to be tough; trying to act like she is unaffected. The exact opposite is true though, she is fighting back tears.
As a parent, I say words, that I know would have held little meaning to me as a child, yet I know in my heart they are true. It IS the other child's loss, if they don't want to be friends with one of my children. My kids are sweet, silly, kind, and loyal. They may fight with each other, but I have never seen them argue or fight with a friend.
This week has been particularly hard for my youngest, and each time I see something happen, I want to scoop her up and cuddle her. Truth be told, I have a hard time not being hateful to the little girls that are mean to her. I remember what it was like being left out in school and having kids insult me to my face, and even though I am all grown up now, it stings to see it happen to your babies. Additionally, I want to hold Christian children to a higher standard, but at times, they are even worse. I went to a Christian school, and the kids are just as ruthless there as anywhere.
Bottom line, I want to protect my kids from the pain of rejections, but I know I can't. Not in every circumstance. So, I sit back, and watch, and pray; offering up mommy hugs, when the brave facade melts away.
I still remember a time, when I was on the hateful end of behavior. I was in junior high, and I so desperately wanted to be accepted, that I made fun of a friend of mine. The popular kids always made fun of us both, so I thought if I made fun of her, they would accept me. It was a desperate attempt to gain favor. Instead, she walked in behind me, and heard every word. I know I hurt her. And all it did was cost me her friendship, because I certainly didn't become popular. The kids that instigated me, were thrilled to see me crash and burn. That memory has stuck so vividly in my mind, because the feeling was terribly uncomfortable, that I not only betrayed my friend, but who I was. That was a turning point for me, a point where I knew I never wanted to compromise myself for acceptance from others.
Hopefully, my children will be able to avoid a moment like that, and know that their worth is not based on what one or several insecure children think. But it is still hard to watch events unfold and not go all wounded mama bear crazy on some 8 year old. What can I say? I am a work in progress.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Monday, September 17, 2012
Wigging Out!
Today I had the privilege of taking my aunt to be fitted for a wig to wear during her months of chemotherapy. I say privilege, because her attitude astounds me. When I picked her up, she came out of her house, with a colorful scarf draped around her head in a fashion similar to that of middle eastern women. She looked good, and was proud of her choice of scarf which she picked up at Walmart yesterday. Her only stipulation to going wig shopping today was that she needed to be back in time to go FISHING! Apparently, she fishes every Monday night with one of her roommates, and loves it. This in itself, cracked me up. I never would have guessed that she would enjoy that activity. I assured her we would be back in time, and off we went on our mission.
In the car she was super chatty, talking about losing her hair, but despite that she felt good physically. She talked about her mom, and how her mom would probably give her a big hug right now, but she announced that she could wait until she saw her mom and dad again in heaven to get her hug. Once we arrived at the shop, she unabashedly discarded her scarf and wandered around the shop looking at wigs. My purpose, was to find her some hair that closely resembled her previous style, which had been the same as long as I can remember; short boy cut, with bangs. Her hair had darkened to a deep brown over the years, so brunette seemed to be the right choice. Immediately, I gravitated toward dark short-haired wigs. Suddenly, I heard her call from behind me, "I want this one" I turned around to see her pointing to a platinum blonde long-haired wig. What the heck?! Proceeding with caution, I said, "Are you sure? That hair is really long." She pondered it for a moment, stepped back, and then said, "No." Phew. Crisis averted! That is, until she wandered over to a shoulder length platinum blonde wig. Sigh. I grabbed it and put it in our try on pile. Every wig I pulled out that resembled her former do, received a decided, "No. I don't like that." Apparently, she was looking for a "new me" style, and secretly loathed her former hairstyle. Okay. I tried to roll with that. We picked up some brunette wigs with heavy blonde highlights, that was the closest she would agree to her normal color. We also added several strawberry blonde wigs to the pile. None were super short, nor did she like any with "pouf". I worried internally that the family would chastise me for the frivolity, but ultimately I decided to bear any criticism. It was her hair, and she should get what she wanted. She was the one that had to endure all the hair loss, medicine, and trauma. Thankfully though, once she donned the platinum blonde wig she didn't like the color on her. She was right, it didn't look good. But the other two colors in our pile were rather complimentary. She wouldn't budge from those, so we came down to style. She finally chose a strawberry blonde wig slightly longer than chin length with side swept bangs.
It was stylish and flattering, just different. It took some getting used to just because I hadn't been prepared to see such a change. However, it cannot be denied that she was beaming about her choice. I teased that when her normal hair started to grow back that she might have to let it grow that length and have it colored to match her wig style. She answered thoughtfully, "I just might do that." I dare anyone to say anything negative about her choice of wig, because I will happily pummel them. Doing this, brought her so much joy, she was due for some fun. Bless her. And it was good for me too. Seeing her bravery and positive attitude, was humbling. We had the rest of her hair shaved off, and she put the wig on her head and walked on out of that shop with her smile reaching ear to ear.
In the car she was super chatty, talking about losing her hair, but despite that she felt good physically. She talked about her mom, and how her mom would probably give her a big hug right now, but she announced that she could wait until she saw her mom and dad again in heaven to get her hug. Once we arrived at the shop, she unabashedly discarded her scarf and wandered around the shop looking at wigs. My purpose, was to find her some hair that closely resembled her previous style, which had been the same as long as I can remember; short boy cut, with bangs. Her hair had darkened to a deep brown over the years, so brunette seemed to be the right choice. Immediately, I gravitated toward dark short-haired wigs. Suddenly, I heard her call from behind me, "I want this one" I turned around to see her pointing to a platinum blonde long-haired wig. What the heck?! Proceeding with caution, I said, "Are you sure? That hair is really long." She pondered it for a moment, stepped back, and then said, "No." Phew. Crisis averted! That is, until she wandered over to a shoulder length platinum blonde wig. Sigh. I grabbed it and put it in our try on pile. Every wig I pulled out that resembled her former do, received a decided, "No. I don't like that." Apparently, she was looking for a "new me" style, and secretly loathed her former hairstyle. Okay. I tried to roll with that. We picked up some brunette wigs with heavy blonde highlights, that was the closest she would agree to her normal color. We also added several strawberry blonde wigs to the pile. None were super short, nor did she like any with "pouf". I worried internally that the family would chastise me for the frivolity, but ultimately I decided to bear any criticism. It was her hair, and she should get what she wanted. She was the one that had to endure all the hair loss, medicine, and trauma. Thankfully though, once she donned the platinum blonde wig she didn't like the color on her. She was right, it didn't look good. But the other two colors in our pile were rather complimentary. She wouldn't budge from those, so we came down to style. She finally chose a strawberry blonde wig slightly longer than chin length with side swept bangs.
It was stylish and flattering, just different. It took some getting used to just because I hadn't been prepared to see such a change. However, it cannot be denied that she was beaming about her choice. I teased that when her normal hair started to grow back that she might have to let it grow that length and have it colored to match her wig style. She answered thoughtfully, "I just might do that." I dare anyone to say anything negative about her choice of wig, because I will happily pummel them. Doing this, brought her so much joy, she was due for some fun. Bless her. And it was good for me too. Seeing her bravery and positive attitude, was humbling. We had the rest of her hair shaved off, and she put the wig on her head and walked on out of that shop with her smile reaching ear to ear.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Keeping Up
I am finding it hard these days to keep up with the blogging. Having taken on the role of a tutor/teacher for our local homeschooling group, is keeping me on my toes. I mean, I don't care if my own kids get a little bored when I am teaching them, but the 8 kids I meet with every Tuesday, well, I want them to look forward to our time together. For that to happen, it takes work, A LOT of work.
Besides that, I am struggling with a level of selfishness. Most days, I don't have any time to do what I WANT to do. Not that I am 100% sure what that is, but it doesn't matter, because there isn't often an evening free for me to do whatever that would be. I look at our calendar, scheduled months into the future, and I feel slightly resentful of the obligations. Truthfully, I only have myself to blame, as I blindly committed to things here and there, but that knowledge does little to assuage my frustration. In fact, it highlights my frustration. Making me wonder why I didn't think things through a little better before the commitments were in place.
Well, enough of my whining. I will share some fun news, and that is, we are breeding our labradoodle. If things go well, he should be a daddy by Christmas. The kids already want to lay claim on a puppy, BUT we aren't willing to do that yet. I am however, looking forward to the prospect of cuddling some cute little furry guys in a few months. If they are anything like our dog, they will be adorable.
Less fun news, I went to the dermatologist last week. I had 3 spots removed, two suspicious, one just annoying. I have to wait for results to come in either this week or the beginning of next, to determine the next course of action. One of three things can occur, all of the results come back fine and I am done, yay! Obviously, this is my preferred result. If the cells are simply abnormal, they will scrape down until they get results that yield a "normal" result. Sounds unpleasant, but still tolerable. Lastly, if any kind of cancer cells show up, I am referred on to a surgeon. Anyone who knows me, knows I get a little wired about stuff like this. But, I am really working hard to be calm and just wait, not my strong suit at all.
I will try to keep up my blog a little better in the near future, despite the busyness of life.
Besides that, I am struggling with a level of selfishness. Most days, I don't have any time to do what I WANT to do. Not that I am 100% sure what that is, but it doesn't matter, because there isn't often an evening free for me to do whatever that would be. I look at our calendar, scheduled months into the future, and I feel slightly resentful of the obligations. Truthfully, I only have myself to blame, as I blindly committed to things here and there, but that knowledge does little to assuage my frustration. In fact, it highlights my frustration. Making me wonder why I didn't think things through a little better before the commitments were in place.
Well, enough of my whining. I will share some fun news, and that is, we are breeding our labradoodle. If things go well, he should be a daddy by Christmas. The kids already want to lay claim on a puppy, BUT we aren't willing to do that yet. I am however, looking forward to the prospect of cuddling some cute little furry guys in a few months. If they are anything like our dog, they will be adorable.
Less fun news, I went to the dermatologist last week. I had 3 spots removed, two suspicious, one just annoying. I have to wait for results to come in either this week or the beginning of next, to determine the next course of action. One of three things can occur, all of the results come back fine and I am done, yay! Obviously, this is my preferred result. If the cells are simply abnormal, they will scrape down until they get results that yield a "normal" result. Sounds unpleasant, but still tolerable. Lastly, if any kind of cancer cells show up, I am referred on to a surgeon. Anyone who knows me, knows I get a little wired about stuff like this. But, I am really working hard to be calm and just wait, not my strong suit at all.
I will try to keep up my blog a little better in the near future, despite the busyness of life.
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