Looking for Love in all the right places

The stress is all still there, but I am trying different ways to deal with it. And that is helping me get through each day.

A winter of love - that will be the key to making it through, I think.

So far, I have started by doing an advent calendar with the kids - they haven't totally gotten on board with it yet, but its not too bad. Teenagers - they resist fun with their mom, lol. Since we are Orthodox, the advent is 40 days long. Took me awhile to get everything ready, but I loved it. We have a beautiful little 'Jesse' tree - Bex tweaked, of course. I have made up icons of the creation story, some of the major people through history, and the nativity story.

We are just now adding the Scandinavian trolls to it - which would be scandalous to some, but is one of our family traditions, so what the hey. I'm all about mixing things up a little. The poor Father gets totally flabbergasted at my mixing of cultures, religions, rituals, and flights of fantasy with Church.

The latest things we found were for St Nicholas day - Poopman (http://comicsalliance.com/benito-cereno-and-anthony-clark-bring-you-a-true-christmas-story/) - the kids still love bathroom humor - and for the trolls -
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLtKlXjN44o&list=RD_oPq6eq1SjI&index=3

But Church is not God. God is like breathing - essential, and underneath everything you do. Church is the gathering of people. Its wonderful, its terrible - just like people. And I just love to find new stuff, and when I see stuff I like or I know my kids will like - I add it. We are what some would call a quaint family, others would call us fruitcakes. Ah well.

Anyways, ........

They have a little advent chocolate house, and they find St Nicholas icons every morning for a candy cane.

This year our troll tradition gets a twist. Usually the kids just get a little treat from them each morning in their shoe. This year I'm making it into an elf on the shelf thingie - troll on a roll?! Each morning the troll of the day will be found doing something, and the kids get something. eg: pie-crust eater is found eating pie, kids get pie for breakfast (!!!!).

Kind of exciting  :)  I'll post a photo or two if I can.

So, finding love by having fun with the kids, and getting into the Christmas spirit. Works for me.

What should I do when Christmas is over, I wonder? Hmmmmm.

Me

I went to talk to the lady who helped the Big Girl last year.

She listened, and suggested some relaxation techniques to reduce my feelings of stress. We practiced them, but I wasn't feeling too hopeful.

And I was about to leave when she gave me the last technique . . . . which included the sentence 'I love and accept myself.'

Trying to practice that totally killed me. I was feeling so bad about everything that has gone wrong in the last week, the last year, the last lifetime, that I couldn't feel anything good about me to love. Eventually I broke down, the walls protecting myself broke down, and I felt the real me - and I love who I am. I hate what I do, but I love me. I don't have to love something good about me. I just have to love me. And I have to do what is right for me, not what I think it is that a mom should do, or a wife, or anyone else. I just have to be.

I have to love myself the way I have to love my kids - love who they are, not what they do. I watch their behavior and modify the situation so that they are successful in what they do. Everyone has their own way of relating to the world.

So I am trying to reduce my feelings of stress, even though all the stress is still there, so I can think more clearly to get rid of some of the stress.

And I am thinking less of protecting myself from the situation and getting what I want, and thinking more about what I love about the situation.

And I am loving and accepting me.

I am going to plan a Winter of Love. And it starts today   :)

Asking

Ahhh well.

I seem to be at that point again.

Having to ask for help because I'm not managing.

At least I can see the signs and ask now.

The shortcut to sanity, instead of the long long looong slide into the depths.

It makes me sick to my stomach to know that I can't do it all by myself.

That I'm not managing.

That I have had a relapse - in many things, all bad.

But . . .

I will get help, and I will get better.

Food for thought

Hmm, read two things lately that made me think . . .

1. I'm reading The Robe by Lloyd C. Douglas, and there is a part where the story of the loaves and fishes is sort of compared to the story of Stone Soup. My own comparison, I doubt Mr Douglas had ever heard of Stone Soup, lol. But what an interesting proposition. That the miracle of feeding 5000 was having them share and feed themselves. Always a good thing to remind humanity of.

2. I read a post from Hilltop Diaries (a blog) that really made me think. And I really, really liked it!

breastfeeding and the eucharist

I always thought communion was a little weird.

I became a Christian when I was 20. Though my love for Jesus came easily, my acceptance of church traditions did not. Communion struck me as a pointless relic of orthodoxy. The vague cannibalism implied by “this-is-my-body” and “this-is-my-blood” made me wonder if the whole thing wasn’t just a misquote of Jesus. Didn’t the church have more important works of justice to do than sit around feeding each other stale wafers? Sure, the bread of life and cup of salvation sounded beautiful, but drinking grape juice from a plastic thimble was never the transcendent experience I hoped it would be.

It wasn’t until I became a nursing a mother that I began to understand the Eucharist. 

My experience of breastfeeding has been very straightforward; my kids were both good latchers and grew steadily. Once I got over the initial shock of milk coming out of my boobs, I found it all quite simple and peaceful. By some mysterious process, my body produced the perfect nourishment for my babies. There was nothing gross about this transmission of fluids; I quickly ditched the nursing cover and breastfeed on demand. For food! For healing! For sleep! For comfort!

When Simon was a few months old, an acquaintance asked if I was breastfeeding. When I responded in the affirmative she said, “I knew it! I could tell by the way he looks so adoringly at you. He’s like ‘You’re all I need, Mom.’” 

Perhaps this is what Jesus had in mind for the Eucharist. Through the breaking of the bread, God invites us into the nursing relationship: the meeting of all our needs.

I think about the cracked nipples and the itchy thrush, the aches and fevers of mastitis, the midnight trek across the house to feed a crying baby, fatigued to the point of nausea: "This is my body, broken for you."

I think about the times I missed out because of the chore it was keeping Simon fed, the chained-up feeling of pumping at work, the moments when I wish desperately for a break: "Poured out for you and for many…"

I think about God, who has given me these children and the means to sustain them, who is present in the Eucharist and in my nursing chair, who by these rituals invites me to participate in His life-giving power: "Do this, in remembrance of Me."

Amen.

My kids sure don't get the whole eucharist thing - and I sort of always just try not to think too much about it, like with the tooth fairy. But I like the idea of this one. I will think more about it :)

Moving On . . .??

I visited Christopher today. We are here for Thanksgiving, so a good time to walk down the hill and through the woods (beautiful in their fall colors!) and say Hi.

I thanked him and God that fall is my favorite season once again, that I don't have to be dead and walled off to get through it. I decorated the house in fall stuff again this year. I regret that my kids have had such a long gap in this tradition, but we did manage to keep a few of our fall rituals going the last 5 years.

5 YEARS!! I can't believe it! He would be in Kindergarten this year! Exclamation points all over the place!!

Maybe because he is 5 now, I can start moving on easier? He is not a baby anymore.

I have been going for a bit of Grief counselling, and learned that there is a difference between grieving and mourning. One is the close to you, all-encompassing, not moving on type of sadness. The other is being sad and missing them, but moving on and remembering them in rituals.

Or something like that.

We always do a Day of the Dead thing, but it is supposed to be a remembering ritual, not a sad ritual.

So I asked Christopher how I could possibly do that, since i cry whenever I think of him (even now, lol). I let myself cry, and think of what I missed the most of him. And it was the baby snuggles, the nursing, the feeling of being loved unconditionally by a baby.

And I realised that I wasn't moving on because of me, not him. I still want that baby love, and I 'm not ready to give it up. Even though I'm 46 this month, and not having any more babies!

And I thought immediately of how my big kids and my hubby come up to me for hugs and snuggles and cuddles and I brush them off. I'm too busy for big kids, babies MAKE you slow down. They are the ultimate excuse to sit and relax and love for a few minutes.

And I need to give my big kids (and my hubby) the same love as I did when they were babies. I need to give my self permission to stop working at a million miles a minute and sit and cuddle.

So I am one step closer to being the Mom I want to be . . . Little Bear's Momma (you know? Little Bear cartoon? That mom is who i emulate, lol) She always has time for a snuggle.

And that is my new number one priority.

Thanks Christopher. You helped your family again in such a huge way. What would we do without you?

I love you!

My new favorite poet . . . really

I'm drowning sinking further into the darkness words can't be forms I swallow the water my eyes burn air ceases in my lungs. Know notices that in sinking further down and down water holds me gently hoping to save me in its warmth from everything up and out there. There are no princess or heroes no superman to save me I'm done waiting for my Prince Charming . I'm saving my self from the tower and escaping the reality by drowning sinking further and further. The darkness welcomes me home as my breath turns it's back on me and tears betray me as they fall flowing into the water around me. My voice whispers in my head but no sounds come out. My eyes watching the world and people pass by. Feeling leaves my body I become numb. 

The cold is fading the longer I'm here the warmer I get. I'm not the only one many others are drowning and the splashing is beautiful letting those who are paying attention know that there drowning hoping for someone to help them

Things start moving

And gears start turning

Our backs to the world

Our hand interwitined 

Time has stopped

But the sun is rising

And things start moving

Gears start turning

Time has begon again

A journey just for the two of us

Are we ready start do you think we can win

Things are moving forward

The gears are turning

Our feet start moving

Hearts pounding

Eyes opening

To world of new

A bright magical place

As things start moving 

Gears start turning

Time has begon again

Just for you and me

So don't worry

Cause things are moving

The gears are turning

And we are leaving foot prints behind us

As we start moving

As are time begins

Jail bars strip the floor with light and shadows the empty room silent and lonely evil words and thoughts run around laughing at you who sits cradled in the corner hidden by the dark shadows once scary but tonight she is loving holding you tight hushing you to sleep.

the footsteps begin to howl closer and closer they roar poeple come eyes judging shamed you cower lower hiding more in her loving embrace like a mother she hides and protects your innecence the howling steps stop at your cell someone sticks a hand through as if the pet a vicious beast the hand calls for you as if it were your own heart saying take me back I want a second chance begging you to take it back.

its time to wake up and take the hand who offers you a second chance because the one with the howling footsteps on the other side reaching out a hand is you

My beautiful daughter Tana. Just some of her poems at mywordsaremine.thoughts.com

She is soooooo awesome.   :)

Jail bars strip the floor with light and shadows the empty room silent and lonely evil words and thoughts run around laughing at you who sits cradled in the corner hidden by the dark shadows once scary but tonight she is loving holding you tight hushing you to sleep.

the footsteps begin to howl closer and closer they roar poeple come eyes judging shamed you cower lower hiding more in her loving embrace like a mother she hides and protects your innecence the howling steps stop at your cell someone sticks a hand through as if the pet a vicious beast the hand calls for you as if it were your own heart saying take me back I want a second chance begging you to take it back.

its time to wake up and take the hand who offers you a second chance because the one with the howling footsteps on the other side reaching out a hand is you

Mother Guilt

Well, little boy did go into his sisters room for a week or two, and learned to fall asleep again. They 'NEEDED' him out though, so then I slept with him in his room, in the bottom bunk, for a month. Now we've made him a bed in the family room, which is on the same floor as the girls - he is sleeping, and I am sleeping (some days, but that's a whole other story!). Hooray for creative solutions. And it has been suggested that he may have anxiety problems, not just a fear of the dark and zombies. I went to a workshop - its normal for this age group to fear being alone, and monsters, among other things. So that's reassuring.

Little girl has decided to go to highschool next year, rather than do another year at the small independent school. That should be interesting. According to rumors, she already has a little romance going on with a boy she hangs out with. He's a nice boy. She denies the romance, of course. She is a 13 yr old tomboy with a reputation as one of the guys to uphold. I sure hope she has a good year.

Big girl is still having meltdowns, which i have learned are panicked attempts to avoid something. By persisting in talking to her, through all the noise and hyperventilating, we have discovered some important things, and she feels much more confident in herself. She is even volunteering information, without the fireworks show, which is nice.

However, what it boils down to is that I have ruined her (good thing I'm fixing her). I taught her that she is stupid, that she is bad, that she can't ever tell anyone what she thinks or she will be hurt, if she gets so desperate that she tells then no-one listens to her anyway, and that she is all alone in this terrible world so its safer to stay in her room and read anime than interact with anyone.

So I am the cause of my little boys problems, my big girls problems, my marriage problems, my own issues, and every other problem plaguing us - including our money problems.

On the bright side, we are going to marriage counselling, and hubby is getting some insight into stuff. He actually said he had an idea of how little boy felt when watching scary movies, connecting it to one he watched as a kid which was terrifying at the time, but now seems cheesy. That is one of the biggest breakthroughs EVER, you have no idea! Watching scary movies was the biggest thing we fought over for the longest time! I would feel so helpless, having hubby so mad at me, but having to try and keep little boy safe from something that no one else seemed to think was a problem. Let's hope this insight translates into some easier movie nights.

I feel like I have to be the bad guy all the time, no one likes me because I don't let them do what they want, or I make them do stuff they don't like. It is a CONSTANT fight. I normally avoid fighting like the plague. So this causes me a huge amount of stress. Some days I don't know how I will do it. Some days I give up. And this is the result - I have ruined the kids, my marriage, our life. That's how it feels, and that's what they say.

Its always the mothers fault. Everything. Hard to believe you can try your best, and still do everything wrong.

I am glad that big girls learning disabilities have led to counselling, because we are learning how to cope with all this stuff. Maybe everything will turn out ok in the end.