Parents are People TOO!

I was talking with some friends recently and we hit on the subject of parenting. Mainly we talked about how our children saw us as parents. Children tend to look at parents when they are young as unbeatable super heroes. We run to the rescue with the special missing blanket or we scoop them up and hold them after they fall. Their vision tends to change as they move into their teen years when the normal wave of adolescence courses through their bodies and they realize that they know everything and adults are idiots. That’s when the fun begins.

Healing wounds and righting wrongs are no longer expected, now it’s time to pony up with some cash and goods. Skip the hugs and hold the advice. If you really love them you will let them­­_______(fill in the blank). Oh and by the way, you really don’t understand how things are “Now a days”. There is eye rolling, door slamming, hurtful things said and then we as parents are sitting there staring at the door wondering how all that just happened.

The truth is kids, we are just people. We came thru the same system that you are going through now. Some parents read “What to expect when your expecting” and maybe even made it thru a few toddler books. More adventurous parents may have read even more parenting books. In the end, we can only draw and what we know when we parent. We have emotional wounds and hurts you know nothing about and we don’t want you to. We have loved and lost, watched loved ones die and cried ourselves to sleep. Most of all we parents have worried about you and how to raise you so you are not hurt and broken. We have also worried about passing on our wounds to you.

Mainly you should know that every time something in our life happened it became a part of who we are packed away deep inside, just like it will for you. As hard as we try to protect you from seeing our scars, they still show up in our day to day lives and in our parenting. Parents generally do not sit down with their children and have heart to heart talks about their lives and what they have been through, our baggage tends to unpack itself a little at a time until you end up with a little of it too.

Parents are people too, just like you are. We do our best and we love you more than you will ever understand until you have your own child. You are part of who we are our good and our bad and even on our worst day, you are still the best thing we have ever done. If you feel like we aren’t enough, or the best at what we have done for you, we are sorry, but this is who we are... people just like you.

The Hiatus is over (No rest for the Wicked)

Coming off my writing hiatus is not going to be easy. I have worried for some time that the writing well was dry. Honestly, I have had a love hate relationship with not writing. On the one hand it was nice not having an assignment first thing every morning. On the other hand, I filled (more like wasted) that time with endless Facebook scrolling which depending on the day could either be interesting or annoying. Over all, the time I would normally write was given away to other things and other people as an avoidance measure.

Writing for me is very therapeutic. I spend an hour or two sharing how I feel about my life or some other more interesting topic and then send it out into the world for all to see. At some point over the last few years I had decided that maybe what I was writing was nothing that important and that I was being vain for sending my thoughts out for the word to chew on. What could I possibly offer anyone? Perhaps it is just that many times we are all feeling the same way and one of us just writes it out loud. Well, whatever it is, I’m willing to get back at it.

Much of what I have written about has been family related. I began my writing journey trying to slog through my life and figure out my relationship with my Mom. Now I am my family, meaning that the buck stops here. Mom has passed on, Dad has passed on and my dear Aunt Nina has passed and now I’m the only one (besides my beloved sisters) to sort out life for my children. Whatever I have done or do from here on out is my story and my weight to bear.

Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons when we aren’t even looking for one. I know now that my mom did the best she could. She loved me, but she had her own demons that she fought. She did the best she could with what she had. I am sure my girls look at me sometimes and just shake their head. Some day they will be wearing these woman size shoes and realize they are much harder to fill than you think. I also know that once your Mom is gone you appreciate her more. Her lessons especially the ones that annoyed you suddenly make more sense. Her rough spots are missed and that hug and “I love you” are held tenderly in your mind in a safe place. I miss my Mom, but I love my life as a Mom and I hope that if nothing else my children know that and remember it.

Somehow I’ll get back into the swing of this writing thing and I am happy to have you along for the ride.

Putting a Bow on It

A while back my husband and I were with some friends and we were talking about how one of our friends is so good about sharing her feelings with people. Someone in our group said “She puts a bow on everything.” My husband responded “Ragen doesn’t put a bow on anything!” He is right, I don’t.

I don’t believe that I am mean or thoughtless, but I prefer full frontal honesty. If I am angry, you know it, if I am annoyed or aggravated or frustrated you will know it. I have always preferred the truth to the fluffy stuffed animal with a bow version. I see the good in adding a bow, but it’s not how I am. I say it how I think it. I’m not a complete insensitive boob, I do hold back and color my thoughts with deep thoughtful breaths and proper words that get to the point without being rude for friends and the outside world…but with my family I get right to the point. (Insert gritted teeth embarrassed look here.)

The thing is I don’t have the patience to sugar coat everything. If you’re driving me crazy by being unprepared or late I’m going to tell you. If you say you’re going to do something and you don’t, I believe it is within my rights to let you know that I am disappointed. I know it sounds like I am a verbal samurai but I assure you I am not. I just state the facts and feelings and skip the fancy bow.

I’m not sure why, but part of me feels a little like the bow cheats you out of handling a situation truthfully. You’re saving the other person from feeling or hearing the truth, which would in turn possibly help them evolve a little. You are also most certainly cheating yourself out of handling something that you are not happy with and potentially making yourself deal with feelings that wouldn’t be there if you had just put the responsible person on notice about what they did.

Honesty is not a bad thing. Stating your feelings and moving through a situation is in my opinion healthy for everyone. Let’s put our cards on the table and move forward. In the end the truth (as difficult as it can be), is the one thing that keeps us all working towards the same goal.  We are ultimately responsible for our own feelings. It is not fair to assume that anyone can or cannot handle the truth. It is what it is.

I do suppose that a small bow tied to the big truth might be a nice touch in some situations. Perhaps now that I have been called out as a “no bow” person it is only fair that I step back and think about it a little. I should also point out that my husband announcing my no bow policy at a table full of people was most definitely a “no bow” move…just saying!

The Issue of Weight

Something has been weighing on my mind for some time. If I’m honest I would have to say mainly the last 20 years. After my youngest daughter was born and I knew that I was not having more children, I started focusing on my weight. I remember looking in the mirror and seeing these little bulging pouches on the back of my hips and thinking it reminded me of my Grandma.

Grandma loved her ice cream. She would sit watching television with a half gallon of ice cream in her lap. I think this was before calories were invented and ruined everyone’s lives. I grew up believing that ice cream was a healer. Any problem or circumstance good or bad could be solved with a bowl of ice cream, a sundae or even a float (Vernor’s Floats are the best!). Trouble was while the ice cream was healing it was also growing my back side.

Not long after my appalling discovery of the fat pouches, I went crazy with watching calories, eating low fat and no fat and counting out amounts of food. I was obsessed with “getting healthy” and losing weight. While I was losing this weight I was also losing a bit of my mind. I was getting mad at myself if I cheated or I would eat less than what would satisfy me. I was walking with a friend and exercising as much as I could. I knew I was in trouble when I went to bed one night and cried because I had wanted to eat something but didn’t because I was worried about my weight.

At that point I was essentially anorexic. I knew I did not have a weight problem but now I had a mind problem. I looked in the mirror and nothing was good enough. As I write this I am getting choked up because this image problem plagues me to this day. I blame my weight, but there is really no problem there. The problem is in my head. My friends who love me chastise me and tell me I am fine, but something deep inside me continues to tap me and remind me I’m not good enough.

I struggle with my reality of self versus my emotional vision of self. I know I’m not alone; many of us fight this issue of weight and vision of self. Watching what the media trots out for us to use as a bar for self esteem makes me sad. None of us “normal” people can obtain that “reality”. I mean seriously, Caitlyn Jenner (remember Bruce? Sorry I know your probably tired of hearing about this) is a way better looking 65 year old woman than any of us will probably ever be, but how did that happen? It wasn’t nature!

Remember those old commercials that said “A mind is a terrible thing to waste”? That’s what I feel like I’m doing, wasting my mind worrying about the issue of weight and what I eat and I’m not focusing on my life and the good things that I have going for me. Don’t get me wrong, I think it is very important to be healthy. Working 0ut and eating right is a great way to maintain your physical balance, but I know that mentally I will always have the challenge of what reality is and what my mind tells me. Maybe my telling you what my battle is will help you know that the reality is we all have something that we battle and you are not alone. Also, I am always available if you want to get ice cream.

The Juggler

I have been going out of my mind. I am suppose to release my children and let them grow up, but standing on the outside looking in I can see things that are completely out of my control and I have to bite my tongue. A mother can only shake her head in silence so long before she starts to shake from frustration, wanting to speak and knowing that her words are unwanted.

Here is the problem. Mom’s have the answers…not all the time, but, many times. We have been through much more than our children give us credited for. We look like obsolete old fossils, but I promise you, at least this Mom has been around the block a couple times and the way of the world has not changed much. We actually know things…good things…important life information things, but if I dare speak out I get the out stretched hand with a loud “MOM STOP”. My favorite (not really) is the smirk that says “Oh yeah, isn’t she cute when she tries to parent?”

I’m very frustrated with how each one of my children takes a turn at dismissing my thoughts and feelings as if they are an intrusion. Seriously, mothering is like juggling, your hands are out trying to balance life, family and varying personalities in the hope that you won’t let anyone down or drop a ball. You think you’re going strong and then one of the balls turns into a curve ball and the juggling act is over and you are smack dab in the middle of a “situation” that you may or may not have mentioned  could become a “situation”. That’s when I say an audible AGH and silently continue with a scream in my head and clinch my teeth until they hurt. This might explain the beginnings of jowls I noticed this morning.

The fact that this stress is affecting my physical being is quite disturbing. I’m really too young for jowls and I am certainly not ready to lose my mind. Although thinking this all the way through, being out of my mind might actually relieve me of the stress. For now I have to step back and watch as things go uncomfortably wrong and hope that somewhere in those children of mine are the tools to make the needed repairs. While all that is happening I’ll be over here with a smirk on my face thinking “Aren’t they cute when they think they know so much more than me?”

The Wits End

Maybe you have heard of “The Wits End”? It is not common for anyone to get to their wits end anymore. We all use more flowery and profane references these days when describing our lack of patience or stress levels. But to be at your wits end was once a true sign that I had gotten my Grandma’s “Goat”, she had had it with me or possibly something or somebody else. Most often it was me, so I am very familiar with the term.

This could explain why with a deep sigh, I thought to myself this morning…I’m at my wits end! I feel like I am pedaling as fast as I can and going nowhere at all. I have no patience, I struggle to be calm and nice and the thought of spring has me overwhelmed with all the outside tasks I need or want to do. Earlier this week I racked out my front flower beds and pulled something in my back, it’s a spot that pops up whenever I start yard work and spoils all of the fun. Maybe that is what put me at my wits end.

Maybe I am at my wits end because I know my college girls are coming home in a week and it will change how we have done things here that last few months. I am excited to have them home and spend precious time with them. I do know though that suddenly I will be tossed into the lives of these two young ladies. Feeling the need to offer my two cents that is most often unwanted and mother adult women that have lived on their own and have forgotten what it is like to live in my home. Glasses left alongside plates and napkins in random places. Containers of various foods and beverages empty quicker than I am use to and the biggest conundrum of all, worrying about their safety when they go out and about even though they have done who knows what and when, when they were away at school.

Here is a thought, maybe I am at my wits end because I worry about things I cannot control. Maybe if I just handed my worries over to God and let him carry the load. Nothing I have in my mind is really worth feeling so overwhelmed. Piling it all in a priority bag and handing it over is probably going to serve me better than trying to control my thoughts and not lash out at the next person that jumps in line for a piece of my brain or time. One thing is for sure, it all works out the way it is suppose to. So no stressing about my yard or my house or my girls is going to change what will actually happen. My wits end is just going to have to hang on and dangle there until I swing it over to God. I have to say though I wish Grandma had handed her worries with me over to God rather than giving me a spanking! 

Change of Focus

Yesterday was St Patrick’s Day. The annual day of green everything, celebrating a saint I know nothing about. This is the third occasion that I have been home alone this year. My husband Mark travels for work once a month and in the last two months he has been gone for my birthday, Super Bowl and now St Patrick’s Day. I realize to most super bowl might seem like a stretch, but I have always been a celebrator and any event qualifies in my book.

I spent the day doing my normal routine around my house and late in the afternoon I started making my dinner. I always make my grandmas boiled supper for St Patrick’s Day, boiling potatoes, carrots and cabbage along with corned beef if I’m in the right mood. Yesterday was just the vegetables since I’m not a huge corned beef eater and I had no one to share it with. I also always make a batch of corn muffins, mainly because I always have…no other reason.  As I went through the routine of preparing for my St Patrick’s dinner I was trying to focus on the process and not on the fact that I would be eating it alone. Honestly, why focus on the piece you cannot fix? What purpose would it serve for me to remind myself that I am alone?

Later in the evening I was texting back and forth with my youngest daughter and sharing how I had made my boiled supper and she shared that she had gone with friends to get a McDonalds Shamrock shake in celebration of St Patrick’s Day.  That’s when she texted me that “Holidays aren’t as fun away from home”. While I know firsthand how hard it is to be away from family during any holiday, I also know that there are worse things to get through and many times it just takes focusing on the positive. What can you do to make it better? I texted my daughter back and said, “You have to focus on the possible not the impossible”. Because I have been celebrating every little thing for so long my children have an expectation that the world does the same thing. The truth is some people just don’t care about holidays or celebrating. They were not raised by a woman who has plastic storage boxes full of every holiday decoration you can think of.

Too often we get caught up in what is wrong and push aside so much that is right. It’s like searching for a missing sock. You rummage through your drawer over and over again to no avail and then the next day you open the drawer and it is sitting right on top. You were focused on the fact that it was missing so intently your mind just stopped looking and focused on the hunt. All it takes is a change of focus. Stop searching for what you expect, want or need and focus on what is possible. Where you are right now is your starting point not where you were. It’s not easy but it is possible.