Oh, how easy I am to leave
And yet, perhaps?
Impossible to forget.
Oh, how easy I am to leave
And yet, perhaps?
Impossible to forget.
Not for you.
Not in place of you.
My eldest is entering her tween years and as much as I want to save her from the harrows that lie ahead,
It’s her journey
I’ve already lived mine.
I wish I could change the hands of some times,
But they’ve led me to this moment, right now.
The time I let go and witness.
Not for me.
Not in place of me.
Have you noticed?
I do not consider myself a “current’ person but if you are on any kind of social media these days you have witnessed Ryan Reynlod’s reaction to his wife Blake Lively’s dress transformation.
It’s straight out of one of his movies.
Moving. What dreams are made of.
The moment was magnificent. They are both extraordinarily beautiful, stunning people.
But what about the rest of us?
I vacuumed out my disgusting van while also prepping lunches, dinner and teacher gifts.
He mowed the lawn, took out the trash and fixed Harper’s fan.
And yet I did not stop dead in my tracks to ogle him.
Welcome to reality.
It’s not extraordinary or sexy.
It’s so completely normal that I am literally closing the stinky trash-can lid as I type.
But the fantasy has us.
And what’s wrong with that?
Because without fantasy, what have you?
It’s easier to dream than live.
Have you noticed?
I started and stopped.
Some things are just too complicated to try and explain.
But he looked at me and said, “Talk to me.”
So, I told him.
I explained how I had spent a lifetime trying to make sense of who I am today, based on my upbringing.
I grew up dead-center-middle of a fractured family and as a result, I had built a life of trying to prove myself.
I did this by being whatever the other person needed me to be.
In other words, I had never found myself because I was too busy trying to be what anyone else needed.
And this carried on through adulthood. Through friendships. Through motherhood. Through marriage.
Oh, how easy it is to get lost in being whatever your children need. Why else would there be an “empty nest syndrome”?
But it was the marriage that had me, at the current moment.
“What do you love about me?” I point-blank asked him. “Aside from the fact that we have similar interests and I don’t complain about you fishing . . . “
I asked him not to respond right away because I wanted a genuine answer.
Do you love me because I am who you need me to be?
Or do you love me because of who I am?
In other words, do you see me?
Even when I can’t?
I’m soon celebrating the Eve of 40- an age I cannot *wait* to reach because finally, you just don’t give a damn anymore.
And I. am. so. ready.
To stop trying and to start just being.
I can see her now.
Sitting on a landing, just outside her window; her legs folded closely to her chest, her arms wrapped securely around them. Her forehead pressed against her knees.
She is so very lonely.
I can see them now.
Four little girls, each creative, unique and beautiful soul looking to me, their mama, for guidance.
When the pandemic hit, I cradled those babies in my arms, protecting them from the dangers that lie outside our loving nest.
But life, ever-changing, continues.
And lately, I’ve come to the stark realization that in my desire to protect my children, I am, instead, preventing their growth.
How will they learn to adjust, when they are always accommodated?
I thought quitting homeschooling mid-year was the equivalent of failure.
Now, I know that doing the same thing over and over, when it isn’t working, is the definition of insanity.
In this case, quitting isn’t failing.
The course we are on is no longer what is best for my children and while making that pivotal turn towards something new is scary, it is also necessary for their continued growth.
I approach that little girl on the landing, placing the palm of my hand on top of her head, whispering,
“One day, you’re going to be a mommy to four little girls and as much as you are going to want to shelter them, you don’t have to worry. They will never be lonely. Because they will have you.”
New Leaf Parenting.
Every Day is a Fresh Start.
Turn the page.
Start a new chapter.
Let them fly.
It’s one of those moments in life where you realize . . .
Maybe they were listening after all.
At the dinner table, our third-borne was lamenting about the unfairness of it all when our second-borne calmly, and matter-of-factly, repeated my exact words:
“Emma, it’s not equal at the same time. It’s equal over time.”
I smiled at her.
That’s what I’ve been saying, all along.
When you have multiple children, they are always concerned about equality.
She gets this, so I should get it, too.
An impossible task, day-to-day.
Instead, it’s not equal today, child.
But in time, it all levels out.
Not equal at the same time.
Equal over time.
Equal over time.
Lately, one of our daughters has been suffering from extreme anxiety. We’ve been in counseling and seeing her pediatrician on a regular basis. I’ve also supplemented my daily reading with a plethora of parenting books and podcasts and today, I wanted to share some resources that have been particularly helpful.
1). It all began with this book my friend, Leslie, recommended. Sissy Goff is a Christian counselor MEd, LPC-MHSP based out of Nashville, TN. She works exclusively with young girls who are suffering from worry, anxiety and/or depression alongside a counselor for boys, David Thomas, LMSW and Melissa Trevathan, MRE who started their practice Daystar Counseling in the 1980s. This is a workbook designed for a parent to work through with their child and it has been an absolutely wonderful resource for our family.
2). This is the companion book to the workbook above, also by Sissy Goff, intended for parents to read as they support their daughter through worry and anxiety. I have underlined half of the book.
3). This is the INCREDIBLE PODCAST that I have been listening to with counselors Sissy, David and Melissa. Each episode is only 20-30 minutes and is PACKED with useful strategies, many of which I have implemented that very same day! Season 4 Episode 7 is specially about worry and anxiety and depression and since it was recorded so recently, it really discusses the effect the pandemic has had on our children. I cannot recommend this entire podcast enough, but particularly this episode! If you do nothing else on this list, listen to this.
4). Season 4 of the Raising Boys and Girls podcast is centered around Sissy’s newest book, Modern Parents, Vintage Values which I have in my reading pile but haven’t started. Everything they discuss in the podcast is right in line with our family’s values so I cannot wait to begin this book!
5). Finally, this is another book co-written by the same three counselors and another in my “to read” pile, by my side as I type.
Philosopher Plato once said, “Be kind. Everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”
Happy photos on social media tell only one side of a story- a book with many chapters. My hope is that in sharing a battle our own family is fighting, you will know you are not alone in yours. I hope these resources are as useful to some of you as they have been to us. ❤
I am in deep.
These past two months, I have felt like I am trudging through thick, relentless mud.
I haven’t had a lot to write about lately, simply because I haven’t had a nanosecond of extra time, nor an ounce of inspiration.
It’s been really hard and really ugly.
But I am here, writing to celebrate a little crack, a sliver of light that crept through today.
This past March, my youngest, Elizabeth, and I returned to mommy-and-me classes at The Little Gym. They allowed me to stay alongside with her, even though she was beyond the age three limit. They understood the impact the pandemic has had on children everywhere and that separating was more difficult than ever. This Fall, however, it was time for Elizabeth to join the independent three year-old’s class.
Lord knows, I knew this would be an uphill battle. With so many health issues, Elizabeth is more dependent on me than most mother-daughter relationships.
To her, I represent survival.
For her, I want her to experience the joy of independence.
We began in September with us sitting outside of class, watching the others play. Gradually, we made our way into the gym, with her sitting on my lap against the wall. Later, she would do a forward roll a foot away from me and then with bribery, she would run to an obstacle, complete it and run back to me. I attempted to leave the room a few times that first month to no avail; instead, biding my time, sitting inside the room, encouraging her to spend more time off my lap.
Today, for the first time in seven weeks, she completed class with me sitting outside, cheering her on through the picture window. Fifteen minutes in, I announced to the lobby of parents, “Can we just all take a minute here to celebrate this milestone?!” And they clapped and cheered right alongside me.
I have four children and every single one of them has needs, specific to them.
There were so many days that I wanted to throw in the towel but I am a mother.
And mothers walk alongside their children.
Nudging, encouraging, lifting.
Until their children discover the confidence to fly on their own.
We moved here seven years ago.
And there she was with a smile and word of encouragement as she witnessed our family grow from two to three to four daughters, surpassing her own three.
She reminded me to hold these babies because soon, they would be grown.
She encouraged me, “You’re doing a great job.”
And when you are a stay-at-home-mom with limited outside exposure, those little words go a long way.
Once a day, 5-6 days a week, Diane delivered our mail.
Until today, when I received her handwritten note, announcing the end of an era.
Her sobs told me she hadn’t expected me to call.
And I realized maybe she wondered the same thing I did:
Did I matter to you as much as you did to me?
It’s the little things.
It was an innocent assignment; written in the curriculum years before the pandemic even began.
Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote a letter to children in 1947 and now it was my child’s turn:
“Write a letter to children in the future describing what life is like today for your family.”
She began with the simple facts: her age, family and hometown.
But by the second paragraph, my nine-year-old froze.
Covid-19. Living during a pandemic.
And just like that- it was all too much to bear.
It’s one thing to survive on a daily basis.
It’s another to face it in words.
The fear, the masks, the social distancing.
“Mommy, I don’t want to do this.” She cried.
I held her, told her to take a break and later said,
“We’ll do it together.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we cannot do it alone.
We do it together.
Moving Beyond The Page, Epiphany Curriculum