I CAME HERE FOR MOTHERHOOD AND THE WIND

Motherhood, with its dreary duties and daily miracles, takes my breath.

So, this is what unconditional love is! 

How much I would have missed if those spirited souls had not used my body, like a common doorway, and came wailing into the great, wild world with their toothless gums wide with anger and their eyes squinched in utter despair.

I would do anything to turn those melodious and beautiful wails into giggles.

Anything!

And then two just as miraculously become three, and happy and humbled, I watched while my little boys, so bone-shatteringly quickly, went from golden optimism, and brown honor, and open smiles to men I struggle to even know. 

Wonderful men of responsibility, and knowledge, and kindness! 

But so new and different that I'm breathless with shock.

Shall I praise nature or fall to my face and cry?

I'll just sit down here a moment...

And try to catch my breath...

And pretend that I saw all this coming.

It's just the wind and me now.

Good thing the wind is my friend!

I knew it long ago and reveled in that knowing.

Each time the wind danced around me, I danced in its embrace. I called out to God and greatness with praises of joy and odes of thankfulness every time the wind caressed me, reminding me that I was here, that I was flesh, that I was joy itself. I danced alone,  then with my sons (Oh, say I found the time to teach them to dance in the wind!) and now I dance alone again.

A few times I was so caught up with fixing supper and getting baths that I barely danced at all.

But the wind forgives me.

Like a faithful pet it comes to my comfort.

Good thing the wind is my friend!

I came here for motherhood and the wind...

PTSD

This morning, I got in my car and headed to work. Yes, I have to work on a Saturday, but I love my job, and my drive to work, and the day was glorious, full of burgundies, and golds, and a playful wind was tossing the limbs on the trees.
I love autumn.
I love these mountains!
I thought, “The only thing that could make a working Saturday better might be a little classic rock.”
I switched on my radio, hoping for Whitesnake or Tom Petty, but the John Boy and Billy show was playing and someone impersonating Ric James began to tell me “How to keep your woman happy”.
I whispered to myself, ”Is this supposed to be funny? When did domestic abuse become funny?!”
I switched the radio off immediately but memories flooded from the recesses of my mind, like it or no.
All my toughest memories are like a street gang in my head; they hang out together and attack me wen masse, usually when I'm already down. Sometimes at the merest sign of a chink in my armor.
Now I'm drowning in them:

A dark gun and a look of supreme satisfaction.
Blood that looks like Kool aid to my thirteen year old eyes.
Pain that finds all my weaknesses.
Panic that makes me lose myself.
The sound of my children crying.
Picking gravels out of my leg.
The feeling that nothing will ever be ok again, and I'm a failure as a mother and as a human being.
Utter. Complete. Hopelessness.
Angela, 13 months old, cold and dead in her mother's arms.
I. Did. Nothing. To. Help. Them.
Red, hot anger.
Black despair.
Feeling the gun against my head.
The sound of the trigger clicking.
Urinating on myself.
Struggling for oxygen.

And now, I'm struggling for my breath again, all these years later.
Still fighting for my sanity if not my life.
Fresh hopelessness settles on my shoulder like a wet blanket.
This day is going to be tough.
I wonder why I can't be normal.
Am I just too sensitive for this world?
And, I'm angry at myself… and at the John Boy and Billy show. Why can't I be stronger? Why can't they be kinder and more thoughtful? And I look up to my mountains but the world is only muted grays.

This, to me, is PTSD.
This, to me, is life.

PARENTAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS & REGRETS

Most of us that have raised children (or helped raise children) can tell you, we have points of pride and we have regrets. At least, those of us that like to reflect and strive to be honest, can admit that we picked our battles, and some of them were unfortunate, but some of them were very good calls.

Let's take a look at accomplishments and failures.

 

I nailed very little, but if there was a ribbon for loving your kids SO MUCH, I know I would win it! I am convinced, I came here to feel the wind and to be THIS mother and grandmother, to nurture these specific individuals.

 

I am happy that I picked the safety battle and made my sons sit in their car seats. I'm proud of myself for wearing my own seat belt from the time they were born, because I knew I'd not sell the talk for long if I didn't walk the walk right along with them. I had never worn a seat belt in my life when I became a parent (most people didn’t in the 70s and 80s) but I wanted to be a decent example for my children, and I wanted to be someone they could be proud of. So, I not only ate better, lived safer, and much more thoughtfully after becoming a parent, but I lived more honorably and kinder too. I'm so glad I did! 

 

I might also get a ribbon for creating a good bedtime routine and sticking to it. It didn’t take long for my children to figure out that bedtime meant sleep time, and they slept like logs. As a result, I had time for a TV show or two, an interesting film, a good book, a conversation with my husband. I'm glad I had that time. I'm certain that, in my case, the free time made me a better parent because it recharged my energy. I personally need a lot of down time, a lot of “me” time.

 

I might get a nod from the parental police for making my kids brush their teeth morning and night and for not giving them anything but water after they brushed those teeth before bed. Dentists loved me. (As an aside, I'm really glad I gave them water and didn't force them to be thirsty all night on the off chance they might pee in the bed. Many of my fellow parents did not allow their kids to have anything to drink after six or even five PM, and I felt heartsick for those children. I can remember waking up so thirsty I was miserable and my parents never denied me a drink of water. How thirsty might I have been if they had?!)

 

As regrets go, I have a few and they are deep. 

 

Though I needed that quiet at the end of the day, I wish I'd found the energy for more quality time during their waking hours. I'm an extreme introvert and as a parent that has been a downfall. Did I play with my kids? Read them stories? Tell them tells? Yes. Yes. Yes. Was I affection and loving? Yes. Do I wish I could have done more of all of these? Absolutely!

 

I also wish I'd found a way to bring more nature, and forests, and animals, and pets into my children's lives. I grew up in the woods and on horseback. My kids had very little of that, and I view this as a personal failure of mine. I wish I'd at least taken them camping and hiking a lot more than I did.

 

I wish I'd kept that black and white kitten and the wrinkled puppy. My boys loved them!

 

I wish I had focused more on nutrition. My kids didn't have big sweet cravings like most children, so I was largely spared that battle. They rarely minded waiting until after supper before dragging out the Halloween candy, and they were particular about which candies they would even bother with. What a blessing that was! But I allowed far too many processed foods and didn't keep enough fruit around. I nuked too many pizza rolls and didn't do enough cooking. Mostly, that was because of poverty (I was often too broke for produce and meat and too tired from working hard (for so little) to cook) but I could have done better with the food we could afford, and I could have done a lot better with the information. I knew little about nutrition and taught little about it. As a result, I am obese and have a grown son that eats like a picky seven year old. He hardly ever drinks water or bothers with healthy foods, and I feel at least partially responsible. I worry about his cholesterol levels, and his anemia, and his heart. 

 

But my biggest regret has to do with violence. I lived in an abusive relationship for many years. My sons have memories that are the stuff of nightmares. I regret, to the depth of my soul, allowing them to live in that violence. If I could go back and fix one thing from my past, I'd leave my first husband the day I knew I was pregnant with my second son. Up to that point, there had only been verbal abuse, and not a lot of that. My oldest was three years old then, and remembers nothing from the days before he had a brother. If I had just one do-over, I'd fix those two little boys huddling in the dark, listening to their parents fist fight in the next room.

 

My second deepest regret is spanking my children. I wish I had never touched them violently, especially in anger, but even when I calmly spanked them. I'm not saying this so people can get outraged and say, "Spare the rod and spoil the child!" Or "My parents spanked me and I'm glad they did. I turned out just fine!"

 

Let me be clear... I don't care. 

 

I feel duty-bound to point out that the shepherd's rod the Bible references was for guidance not violence. I feel duty-bound to point out that you might have turned out even happier and better adjusted if no one had hit you. But in the end you will believe what you believe and I'll believe what I believe, and I have zero desire to debate this topic with anyone. This is a very personal choice for me and it makes sense all the way down to my core. I received a lot of physical punishment in school, and a little at home. I can't think of a single time that I deserved it, or a single time when a discussion wouldn't have worked even better than that paddling. Not only that but, I ask you, if my oldest hits my youngest, and I then hit my oldest, what have I taught my sons? At best: "Some people are bigger, and stronger, and meaner so you shouldn't take things to a physical level or you will regret it. " At worst, "I don't care about you."

 

What about instead, we teach children to deal with their anger and disappointment without violence? What if we teach them kindness, gentleness, and empathy? What if we teach by example? 

 

I wish I had set the example by never hitting my son, his brother, or anyone else except in self defense. I am 99% convinced that every lesson can be taught without violence, and I'm 100% convinced that my children deserved that and so do yours. 

 

I'm very interested in your accomplishments and regrets. We learn from sharing. Please share yours?

TO THE SO CALLED FRIENDS OF MY ALIENATING CHILDREN

There is so much I would like to say to you, so many points I'd like to make.

I could start with, "How could you?" and end with a plea for basic human compassion. In the middle, I could write chapters about unity instead of division, love over hatred, and peace instead of war. I could spend at least a page or two reminding you that we should never judge someone by the gossip we hear about them. I could share and dissect my favorite quote of all time:

"You can tell more about someone by listening to what they say about others than you can by listening to what others say about them." (Leo Aikman)

I could write a book for you; I really could...

But I won't.

I'll keep my words and my pain tighter and more concise.

I must admit that you hurt my heart, that your words, supporting and even encouraging my children in their decision to ostracize me, cut me to the bone, that your contempt for me, a person you do not even know, completely blindsided me. Why do you dislike me? Better yet, why do you, their so-called "friend" dislike my children?

I'll also admit that you and your actions puzzle me, perhaps more than anything else in this whole miserable, messed up, painful, and puzzling situation.

When MY friends are upset, I calm them instead of stirring them up into a fury. I help them understand the other side of the story. I attempt to be a peacemaker and a unifier. I help them find a shelter from their emotional storm. I discourage drama for drama's sake. I help them reconcile with the people in their lives, especially if those people are family that adore them!

I'll tell you that I believe in karma and usually I'm a pretty big fan of karma's work, but this time, not so much.

I do believe what goes around usually comes around. I believe that, if you are very lucky you will someday be my age with children near the age you are now.

I hope those children never ostracize you! I hope they never show you how this feels! I hope they love you, and respect you, and do their very best to understand you. Because I would not wish this pain on even my worst enemy.

Perhaps you've been rejected by a lover. I can sympathize. I have been there. I can remember that pain, and I can tell you that being rejected by the child you hold in the parenting places of your heart hurts .so. much. more! It hurts more than any other pain I've endured, and pain is my long-time companion. I am no stranger to emotional or physical pain, but this is THE pain I wish on no one, not even on you, my child's so-called-friend that hurt my beloved child by your decision to respond with anger and drama when my child needed hope, kindness, and understanding.

This pain I would not wish on anyone, not even my worst enemy. But why, oh why, did you, dear pretend friend of my child, decide to be my worst enemy?

WHY YOUR MOMMA TOLD YOU TO NOT CALL OTHER PEOPLE NAMES

NOW:



In my half century of years, I've become utterly convinced of a few things, but none more so than the belief that we play a huge role in the world around us. I think we can all agree that our actions and the actions of others shape our world, but I'm asking that you also give some thought to the idea that our words and the words of others shape it as well.

When you slap a label on someone it usually sticks. It actually reinforces the behavior (negative or positive) that made you call him or her a name in the first place.

It sticks in more ways than one.

It sticks to a degree in your own mind because you are more inclined to expect similar actions from them in the future. (After all, everyone likes to be correct.) And therefore, you will be on the lookout for such actions, and you will point them out, leaving the other person more insecure, and brow beaten (hence more likely to fail again) every time they fail. You are your own negative prophet. You continue to look for more faults, and to create more faults, and to find more fault. In this circular manner, you can create a bigger, badder situation. You can make your very own avalanche of negativity.

The label also sticks in the other person’s mind because humans are very pliable. Each time someone tries to drag us down, chances are very good that they drag us down; especially if that someone is a person we care about.

This word power can be your super strength or your kryptonite. You get to decide. "Moron" begets moronic behavior, but "Amazing!" encourages strength and wonder, not only in yourself but in those around you. And who doesn’t need more strength and wonder in their lives?

Now, knowing that our words greatly shape our reality, it is your decision to make: Do you want your life to have more negativity and sadness or more positivity and happiness?

It is in our own best interests, in an individual way, in a family/friend situation, and in society as a whole to learn to use positive affirmations when speaking about ourselves AND others, unless you need or enjoy avalanches of negativity.

It is also in our own best interests to strive to surround ourselves with people who lift us up, not people who tear us down. Yes, everyone has a few Negative Normans they do and should feel duty bound to put up with. As Henry Wadsorth Longfellow warned us, “Into each life some rain must fall.” No one can or should entirely escape negativity. But you can choose to surround yourself with enough encouragers that your Negative Nancys won’t be very successful at dragging you down. You can increase your sunshine or increase your rain. You can have the self respect to (whenever the name callers are culpable) discourage the negativity by calling a spade and spade, by leaving the presence of the pain. You can say, “You know I love you, but I won’t allow you to hurt me with words any more than I will stand here and let you hit me.” You can leave the room, leave the home. Give it all a break and (if these people are important in your life) try a conversation again some other time.

We should set a good example too. Speak into the world more of what we want, not more of what we don't want. We should remember to be kind and empowering if we want kindness and order in our own lives.

Most of us instinctively know this with children. That is why we give them more positive reinforcement than negative reinforcement. That is why we are trained by the professionals to say, "You did a bad thing," instead of, "You are a bad child!" Why do we stop remembering this with others as they get older? Do we think that adults are immune from negativity? Do we think that our words won't pull down a 25 year old just as quickly and painfully as they will a five year old? Do we fail to realize that we are not hurting only them, but ourselves and the reality that we shape together, a reality that could be so much more beautiful if we’d just cut the crap (negativity)?

My sweet Justin once said, “Grown-ups are just kids too.” He was a child when he said it, but a child that had his finger on one of the Great Truths of Life.

Never forget: Grown-ups are just kids too!

I urge you to give this idea much thought! I implore you to be kind, and gentle, and UPifting to everyone in your world, even and especially to those you love, even and especially to yourself!

~ Skitch ~


You always hurt the one you love
The one you shouldn't hurt at all
You always take the sweetest rose
And crush it till the petals fall

Written by Allan Roberts and Doris Fisher
Performed by The Mills Brothers

A Prayer for 2017

NOW:


A Prayer for 2017

Dear Sweet Lord Jesus,

Please protect us from Your people.

You told them to feed the poor, but they want to cast us out.

You told them to shelter the homeless, but they rage to send us all away.

You told them to cast the first stone if they were without sin (perfect) and You told them not to judge, and yet they hurl insults and they cast words of condemnation that hurt like bricks.

You told them to treat the immigrant like the native, but they want to take up stones once more, but this time to build a mighty wall, like that wicked tower of Babel, to thwart Your will. They want to build a giant Bable Wall instead of doing as You asked and feeding Your multitudes.

You told them to turn the other cheek, but instead they turn their faces away from those that suffer. They fight for weapons and vengeance, and they say, "That is not my problem!" or "That is not my countryman!" though You clearly told them that we are all brothers and sisters and neighbors through You, Christ Jesus.

And then... there are the violent ones...

Dear Sweet Lord Jesus, please protect us from your people!