Proud Mama Moments While Coparenting my Tween

Big-Little-Tree

The other day on the way home from school, fighting traffic with DD1 riding in the backseat, DD1 nonchalantly announced that she won an award and there was going to be a ceremony at school.  It went something like this:

DD1 (fiddling with her phone music keyboard game):  I-won-an-award-and-there’s-a-ceremony-and-dad-wants-to-go-does-that-mean-you-want-to-go-too? 

Me:  Wow!  What kind of award, sister?

DD1: A writing award.

Me:  That’s great, DD1!  I’m really proud of you!  And there’s a ceremony?

DD1: Yes-it’s-before-school-dad-says-he’s-going-does-this-mean-you’re-going-too.

Me:  Well, of course I want to go, sister.  I need to know more about the award and the ceremony, though was it announced?

DD1: I got an EMAIL.  And I didn’t think you could go because you have to be at work!

I could tell she was struggling.  Having two households can be stressful.  At the same time, I had no idea what was going on and needed to learn more.  She continued to tell me that she wasn’t sure what the writing award was but that she was invited by an email and it was to include breakfast and a quick ceremony before school.  Also, she didn’t want any of us to go, but dad said he’s going so does that mean you’re going too.  Of course I said that I wanted to go, to which she responded with more sighs and stomping around the house.  Even A wanted to attend, but after all the stomping and sighing (tweens sure do stomp and sigh a lot), we came to the conclusion that while there are events to hang our hats on where all parents needed to attend (i.e. school-wide performances, graduations, etc.), perhaps this half hour ceremony before school was not one of them, given her reaction.

Later, DD1 confirmed other parents were also attending and we realized the ceremony was the morning that I was on carpool duty for drop off, so I let DD1 know that I was going.  When she spoke by phone with her dad on the phone later, she told him, well MOM wants to go now, so you can go too, I GUESS.  You know to be FAIR.

There were two more days to go by (including an overnight with her dad), so I let DD1 know, listen sister, if you REALLY don’t want parents to go, I’ll reconsider this, okay?  To which she just answered with a short:  IT’s FINE.

Then some sweet little surprises happened to let me know it was okay to go:

1)  She asked if I had a blouse for her to wear to the ceremony.  Then right before bed, she raided my closet and picked one out.  (gasp! We’ve gotten to the point where she wears my clothes!  Lol).

2)  When I asked if there was a place that sold coffee/tea at school, so I could hang out after drop off and before the ceremony started—she asked, why?  And I responded, well, I figured you wouldn’t want me hanging around you and your friends so I could go hang out somewhere.  DD1 thought about this for a while and later that afternoon, informed me: I guess you can sit with us, mom.  It’s okay.  You can sit on the side.  Just don’t be so loud.  (tee hee hee, what me?  Loud?)

3)  Arriving at school and at the tables where DD1 sits with her friends, her tweens nodded at me, and DD1’s BFF told everyone I was her “second mom.”  I smiled and said good morning and focused on playing Words with Friends, so as not to disturb the force.

4) Although, after talking with two of DD1’s friends for a little bit (careful not to be too loud), they decided they wanted to come with us.  So we all tromped over to the ceremony and sat together.

5) I asked DD1 if she wanted me to invite her dad to sit with us, and she shook her head adamantly.  But she didn’t object to me helping her catch his attention, calling his name and waving.  (I’ll follow up with her about that it’s okay if everyone sits together…)

6) When her teacher gave me a big hug and later, invited me to take a group photo of the winners, DD1 SMILED!  Awww…

7) It turned out DD1 was being recognized for her poem…and she let me READ IT.  And asked me what I THOUGHT about it.

8) We had a nice discussion about what the symbolism meant and how proud I was of her for thinking of it.  Also, why I thought it had been recognized out of the two grades it was represented.

9) She shared with me some of her other writing.  <3 o:p="">

10)  Later, we celebrated because I got out of work early—I took her and her BFF (“second daughter”) out for bubble tea and cookies before we headed home.

All in all!  A very good day in the life of a tween mom.  Heart full!!!!

Working it Out on the Healing Journey

Morning Dew

Conundrum:

It's been many years since I left my abusive marriage and years of therapy and now I'm in a healthy re-marriage (5 years next month…!!!), so that's a good thing.  All of these years, I’ve supported my kids and their relationship with their dad and helped them unpack their complicated feelings about being both loyal to him but also not liking that he yells at their grandma and at them.

So whyyyyy am I having a hard time and all triggered that my former abuser might be getting re-married? The good news is my girls really like her. My youngest says she's glad they're getting married because daddy needs help--and went on to explain how they are late sometimes because they have to carry so many bags and make so many trips from the car into the house and daddy gets mad and upset.  I interpret that to mean that he loses his patience and crap with the menial chores and having a nice lady to help them--in my youngest’s mind makes sense—that it will make things easier for him.  At the same time, my eldest laughed when I shared little sister’s story with her.  She was like, Mom, she WISHES they would get married, lol.  Also, from what I understand, she is very well off financially and is generous with the girls (i.e., flies them first class). So what gives?  Why am I suddenly uncomfortable and out of sorts and upset?  And then angry at myself for being upset?

Observation:

I think it's because even though I've done a lot of work in therapy and accept a lot of my trauma around the violence, it's because I see this as so unfair that he 'gets away' with being so horrible. I know that part of forgiveness is letting go, moving on, and living a good life. Which i've been working for years to do so. I'm just struggling with the whole, he gets away with it. And maybe if he gets married again to a financially well off lady, it's like then it's validation that he's "not that bad" in the eyes of the world. Ugh, I guess I really do have a lot more work to do in terms of healing and therapy.

One day I hope to be in a place where this doesn't matter. I've tried the forgiveness meditation on the daily. (I guess keep on working on it... if anyone has words on wisdom ... please share.)

Answer:

So…I called my therapist and checked in and I’m distilling her words of wisdom:

1)  Even if life has moved on, the feelings come because the wounds were so very deep. This explains why, even when travelling down a completely different road altogether, even when embracing healthier ways of living, you can be triggered and why it hurts.  That’s trauma.  That’s PTSD, and that’s why it hurts.

2) Don’t be so quick to brush off the feelings as invalid; don’t be so quick to judge or berate yourself for being upset.  Let the feelings be what they are.  Recognize them.  Validate them.  They are what they are.  That they exist is not a reflection of failure on your part in healing or moving on.  They exist by virtue of what you went through.  Once you allow space for them, *then* you can go into…

3)  Remember, your ex is still your ex.  For a reason.  Would you want to be married to him?  Would you want to be in that violence?  No!  And just because he may be entering into a new marriage—no one knows what that marriage is going to be except for those two people.  His actions now aren’t a reflection of what YOU lived.  That’s on him. 

4)  Lastly, that creeping sensation that this means none of it’s true, or he’s not that bad, that somehow he’s being validated and you are not?  Again, that’s on him and on anyone else who subscribes to that kool-aid.  It might sting, but at the end of the day, you know what you’ve been through.  Your people, the ones who matter, who love and support you, know what you’ve been through.  They matter.  Everyone else, and everything they ‘might’ think…well, they don’t matter at all.  Love yourself and love your kids.  Living your good life is what makes the difference.

5) (these words are from me and not the therapist):   Deep breaths.  This is a damn marathon.  Not kidding.

Happy Earth Day & Tween Correspondence

EarthRise-NASA

Happy Earth Day!

And in other news, an actual email that I received from DD2:

-----

Dearest Parental Unit,

I regret to inform you that I have forgotten my racquet at home.  I am so, very sorry.  Is it possible that I can stop by and run into the house to grab it?

Sincerely,

DD2

-----

LOL.  Yes, I did remind ms. daughter to not forget her racquet before she left the house this morning.  

I’m actually impressed that she addressed me as “Dearest Parental Unit” as well as chose to spell racquet instead of racket.  Awwwww, DD2

p.s. percolating on another blog post--about Easter, grief, redemption, healing, and love.  I can't get the juices flowing right now, so I'm leaning into parenting, regular work-life, and preparing for all the death and destruction in the next episode of Game of Thrones.  

Love and hugs to you!

April Fool's Day, April Blues Day: Healing Journey Supplies

Tools

Damn, this week has been rough. 

I have said a hundred times (or nearly) on this blog that healing is a marathon, not a sprint.  But having run a half marathon, I think this is an understatement.  Healing is a lifelong freaking ultramarathon (term for any race longer than 26.2 miles) and some days it’s so hard to get out of bed in the morning.  So today is about surviving.

In light of this, I’m packing a suitcase of tools and tips to deal with the !@#$!#$!@#$!@#$.  Here’s what I have in my bag, so I can check out of life and check into Hotel Escape.  What?  I can’t check out of life?  Work, family, job?  Responsibilities?  While I feel like !@#$? 

Dammit.  So here’s what I have in my bag so I can cope with !@#$ as I stick it out and do my best to survive:

1)  Distraction Hammer.  Sometimes, distraction is not denial.  Sometimes, getting busy with task oriented projects, cleaning out the closet, cleaning out the file drawer at work, picking apart a shelf—can take the mind off and is a break from the !@#$.  And voila! A clean shelf or closet is the result.

2)  Letting Go/Breathing Mask:  However, sometimes, you need to wallow.  It’s okay to cry.  It’s okay to let those feelings come in.  It’s okay to give space to the doubts, because to suppress them with “I shouldn’t feel this way” or “Why aren’t I over this !@#$ yet,” only turns those doubts from whispers into shouts.  So when you feel the thunderstorm coming on, take deep breaths.  Breath in 1-2-3-4, and breath out 4-3-2-1.  Repeat.  While breathing, tell yourself—I know these feelings.  I accept them.  They won’t last forever.  It will pass.  I can do it.  Repeat 10 times. 

3)  Work shoes:  I know it, this one seems crazy and a little lofty, but freaking exercise.  Pull on those shoes, throw yourself outside, and run around the block.  Or if you don’t feel like going outside, stay indoors, just start bouncing.  Run up and down the stairs a few times.  Do some jumping jacks.  Do 30.  Repeat.  Get the blood pumping and the sweat going.  Talk to yourself as you run:  I love and accept myself.  I love and accept myself.  (Even if you don’t believe it, the words are nice, and maybe with repetition, it will stick).  When you are sweating and gasping for air, you’re too occupied with survival to let the anxiety take over.  In fact, for a while after you stop sweating, your brain’s endorphins kick in and will give you some relief.  (p.s. high impact exercise is not a requirement, yoga or stretching and just moving a little bit, 10 minutes of walking a day, can help, too—in fact just that little bit of walking can reduce risk for disabilities when we are seniors!).

4) Mechanical pencil:  Take out your writing tool and write your !@#$ down.  Sometimes, the feelings are stuck inside and just need an outlet.  Or if writing is not your jam, use a different medium.  I know an amazing woman who makes art out of beach combing finds.  I think she transforms her pain into art and sells it on etsy.  I know another amazing woman who  makes a living as an independent author, transforming her traumatic experiences into published writing.  I’m not saying our pain needs to be sold on etsy or turned into a career (although kudos to those women and many more artists who do!!), but an outlet for it to get outside of your head, heart, and body helps relieve the internal pressure.

5)  Friend/Family Walkie-Talkie:  sharing a piece of our hearts with an understanding friend or family member can be super comforting.  Sometimes we think that our pain overwhelms our people, but choosing to keep it to ourselves, so as not to ‘burden’ others, can be self-defeating and isolating.  Reach out to someone you trust and a simple, “I’m having a rough day today” or “I need a hug, how are you?” can add a loving connection to your day.  Or if you don’t feel like spilling your internal !@#$, go through your contacts and think of a friend you haven’t seen in a long time.  Send them a text just to say “hi!”  You don’t have to go deep, just a friendly connection, a reminder that you are NOT alone in the universe is kind to yourself (and to them).

And to take this step further—a therapist walkie-talkie can do wonders.  Healing from trauma is not easy and if not for my therapist, I would probably still be in my abusive marriage that I left 8 years ago.  (Eight years!  !!!  !!!)

6)  Safety glasses/earmuffs:  I find another coping tool in reading.  Escaping into another world is awesome and a reprieve from my world and my !@#$.  It doesn’t have to be reading, it could be any hobby, picture collages, listening to music, beach combing, playing games.  I’ve also been into podcasts lately, especially _The Moth_, because those are real stories told by real people who experienced them, from all over the world. 

7)  Safety Instructions:  One thing to know about trauma, is that while you may have good days and bad days, and the good days are great, the bad days are likely caused by some sort of trigger related to the trauma.  Reading your instructions and examining the triggers that cause your trauma can be helpful (which is why a therapy walkie-talkie is a good tool).  I know that saying goodbye to my children when they do their visitation--is a huge trigger.  I can recognize being separated from them tugs at the separation trauma I had from when I was infant all those years ago, a pre-verbal trauma being separated from my birth mother.  I still struggle with it.  That said, knowing why I’m feeling the anxiety that I feel takes away the “crazy.”  I’m not crazy for freaking out and feeling like !@#$@.  It’s part of my story.  That’s why I need this damn toolkit.

8) Lunchbox/Thermos:  The last items in my toolkit include my lunchbox and my thermos.  Sometimes the contents can be super healthy, especially when combining with those work shoes.  A healthy body helps with a healthy spirit.  On the other hand, sometimes taking a break and eating all your favorite foods and drinking all the wine can be helpful, too.  And that goes with the setting—sometimes, you may just want to veg out and eat alone, watching your favorite tv show, or sometimes you might want to be with your people and drink and laugh and/or cry and be together.  Both choices have a place in the suitcase, because both can be helpful when dealing with the !@#$.

Bonus item—Safety pillow:  Sleep.  A good night’s sleep is good for your body, your heart and your mind.  Says the person who suffers from insomnia.  I love to sleep.  One day, I will sleep through the night again. 

Do you have anything else to add?  Thank you for reading.  I was feeling super junky when I first started writing, so just by unpacking my suitcase for you has helped me get through today.

Love and hugs, from a struggling, trying to do the best to survive, Jane Thrive

p.s. for your amusement--when searching the web for a toolkit pic to use in this post, I tried to google:  toolbag gif

This search result does not bring up pictures of toolkits.  hee hee.  Enjoy!