Walking away is a good response.

My trip to New York was not what I had expected. I enjoyed moments, but the rest of the time was emotionally too much. I react to noise. Which is surprising because I am loud. I am also partially deaf in my left ear. All women on my mom's bloodline were/are. Great-Grandma Annie, Grandma Barbara, Mom, and now me. We believe with deafness comes longevity. Maybe we cannot hear all the stupidity and therefore cannot get too annoyed? Annie lived until 96, Grandma B is pushing 95?97?100? So where am I going with this? 

Today I met with A's therapist because at our last meeting I was in a bad place.  My role in New York was to "manage someone else's anxiety." Clearly, that was a failure waiting to happen. I can barely manage my own. I manage A's. That;s is all I can handle now. I am learning how to stop managing hers so she can manage it for herself. It is a process. We are in this together. But what I am capable of doing for A, or willing to do for A, I am not capable of doing for my mom. That makes me feel less than.

I want A to manage hers successful. Find the anchor within herself. The therapist says she is a child filled with anxiety. She was born this way. I know it is my fault, my genes that did this to her. But I want to her face this all head on, as a child so she can be the most capable adult.

Walking away is a good response. When it infuriates those that challenged you or were insulting, mean-spirited or simply trying to steal your power, that means you did the right thing. Walk away. I'm doing it. So will A.

I didn't run away from New York. I ran towards a new life in Montreal. A place where I could start fresh with my babies and not live in struggle and sadness. Where I felt wrong because I couldn't live the lifestyle that someone else chose for me. In Montreal, I'm killing the mommy-thing. Apparently, my children not only love me, but they really like me. And I like me too. Calmer.

Mother knows best

Mom, I have a story for you. You wouldn't believe what Autumn did to her Barbie Pony Princesses. As I tell the story, I hear her audible sighs - the acknowledgment that she remembers when I did something similar as a child. She laughs at the hi-jinx and commiserates. Her insightful questions help me open up and look at the situation critically.

I explain how I didn't lose my shit when I found the Princess Pony massacre. I held it all together when Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash, and Apple Jack were strewn across the floor - heads on one side - bodies on the other - braids everywhere.

She just broke $100 worth of toys. Her favorite toys right now. I take a deep breath. She looks to me with pleading eyes to fix it all and make it better. I recognize that there is no immediate peril. But I feel terrible. For her, for me, for not knowing what upset her to trigger this?!? Wondering what is to come down the road for me next week, next month, and next year. 

I told Autumn, "next time call me. Say Mama I need you. I don't know how to fix this? I might not be making the best choice." 

My mom said I reacted better than she had when I did something similar. She remembers yelling at me. I do too. I don't want Autumn to remember me reacting that way. So I didn't. I remained calm. I spoke in dulcet tones.

Until next time.

Off the meds

My son calls medication a tool. He can focus and listen to the teacher when he needs to learn something new that he is not interested in (mostly French.) The grades went up 20-30 points where necessary. He feels better about his accomplishments and that positive energy feeds itself into other aspects of his life. For her, it is about anxiety. She is calmer and able to navigate the world more peacefully.

This summer the children are at the pool from 8:15 till 2pm. They are both on the swim team, take lessons, synchro teams, Waterpolo (son), and diving lessons (daughter.) I take them back to the pool each night from 5-6:30pm to drain them of the last bit of energy I can. 

Being off the meds has lasted a lot longer this summer. My son has grown two inches in four months. He lost two teeth in a week. He has two more that are loose. The tooth fairy is on-call at my house this summer. They eat every two hours. They are both so strong. 

He drags me across the pool like I weight 50 pounds. We played monkey-in-the-middle for 2 hours in the pool yesterday from 3-5pm. 

Last week he begged for a root beer, onion rings, and two cheeseburgers for lunch. We laughed the whole time and then played in the pool together for another two hours. Tonight when I put him to bed, he said, "I just wanted to spend time with you. I love you so much."

Have I mentioned the giggling?

The summer is exhaustingly amazing.

I can fill the air

I called today to tell you I am a friend and I care about you. You do not have to tell me about your life because I know it is replete with hardship right now. I will never push you to talk about the sad. I can be an ear or a voice that can just FILL the air -- to make it less lonely. To make life more bearable. All I need you to do is call and say talk. Or answer when I call so I can make you smile -- when the smile and lighthearted laughter seems to far to reach. 

Life is not always successful. People die, jobs are lost, children get sick, promises are not kept, debt piles up, houses are foreclosed upon, bankruptcy, and marriages collapse. It is not pretty or easy. Some of these I know about, others I don't, but I'm smart enough to realize that these troubles don't define me.

The true test of a person is what they do with what's been done to them. How we choose to rebound and show ourselves what we are made of. How we find the strength to push forward every day for a better life. You have to rally after the FAILURE because you were just on the wrong path.  

It is what you become after you fall that makes you the better version of yourself. Choose to re-build.

Where is your Mama?

I have two children and they are all I need. I love the family I created. To that end, I am not interested in parenting your child unless someone is in imminent danger.  

When I hear children around me using their mouths and words in a way that I wouldn't approve ... I steer clear unless my child is involved. I am more LIBERAL than most and probably tolerate more sass than the typical Montrealer-mom. But I stand by my assertion my children need to defend themselves and be strong. To blossom into problem-solvers and develop the skills necessary to survive in the world. 

But when they can't, I show them how to. That is my job as a parent.  

When children need to be reigned in, a quiet and strong, "Where is your Mama?" stops the nasty words and bullying immediately. The child knows how their parent would react if they heard what the child said. 

These 4 words are MAGICAL. Maybe once the kids are 12 they won't work. But, for now, they do!

Why I love being tall

Dear Autumn,

At five, I witnessed how my friends never called me cute because I was already four feet tall. Teachers and children don't define cute as the tallest girl in the classroom. In all childhood games with other little girls, I was never “the baby.” Babies got piggy-back rides and were carried. No one was interested in carrying me. In EVERY class pictures, I stood in the back row next to the teacher. You could never see my pretty skirt and shiny Mary-Jane shoes. By eleven, I was five foot six inches tall. I never wore a training bra and wore a starter-B cup bra. By thirteen, I was five foot ten inches tall.

Assumptions abound about tall people: Tall people don't know everything but almost everyone else thinks they do from the ages of 4-15. This assumption fades once everyone is in the throes of puberty and self-importance overrides all other beliefs. Hold on, my sweet-sweet girl, you are only eight, so there is plenty of time for people to assume all kinds of things about you. Don’t worry. I don’t care what other people think, so I am ready to defend you and crush their ignorance.

Sports: Everyone will think you should be brilliant at basketball. When I wasn’t the failure was monumental. I played for my freshman high school team. I scored once the entire season. The shortest girl on the team, Julie, scored all the time. She then went onto Varsity and I went to the stage. Fast. Everyone will assume you are fast because your legs are already 2 feet long. Luckily you are crazy fast, so enjoy that. Thank your dad. He is the coordinated one.

At 16, I stopped growing when I hit six feet tall. My figure measured at 38-28-36 and stupid people told me I was fat. People can be stupid and mean. Identify them early and release their toxicity in your life. I would pose nude now if I looked like that still.

Your best friend will most likely be really short. Mine was. Most of my friends are significantly shorter than me. It will be harder to find other Amazons like yourself. Cherish the friends that can feel secure around you. Those are the ones to keep for life.

I always get lost in crowds but I am easily found. All you have to do is look up and you’ll find me. You are a massacre when it comes to directional sense. I’ll buy you a smartphone with a GPS. But when you are in crowds, tell your friends to look up. They’ll see you before you locate them.

Never shrink or hunch yourself over. Never make yourself smaller in any way for anyone else in the world. No one should define you, limit you, or make you feel or act smaller than you are.

No one ever says I wish I was short, once they grow up. I make all my short friends tell you this for a reason. Listen to them. They love you like I do. Everyone is beautiful in their own package, Your package is TALL, hilarious, elegant, goofy and cute! Your face is shaped like a heart and your heart is kind and filled with love.

Questions and Feelings - a nightly ritual

In therapy yesterday, my daughter told her therapist how each night we have "Questions and Feelings" time together. She can ask me anything and I will answer honestly. The questions can range from:

Will I ever like fish? 

When will my breasts start to grow? 

Will they be big like yours? 

Why is melted cheese gross but I like grilled cheese? 

Will I be in a bad mood when I have my period? (Implying that I am when I have mine.) 

When I lie on my stomach, I can see my butt, can you?

There are three questions each night.

The "Feelings" part is a little trickier for me. Feelings to her equate to her take (see: critique) on what I did that day that to her was not appropriate. Or measured.  She couches the language in a way that shows me how I could have done better. Her therapist found her perception compelling. Oh goodie. My daughters' perception of her feelings is, in fact, a comment on my behaviors. Each night during, "Questions and Feelings," I brace for my nightly critique.

Last night, she begins, "Why do you curse?"

"Because it releases stress, for me, like a balloon popping, it's an instant feeling of release," I answer.

"Do you think there is a better way to release your stress?"

"I'm sure there is," I say.

"I get mad, and I don't curse."

"What do you do?" I ask.

"I scream," she says.

"Is that better or the same?"

"I'm not sure. Cursing is gross," she admits.

"Ok. I will not curse and you will not scream. Is that a fair deal?"

"Yes. Do you think we can do it?"

"If we do it together, I think we have a better shot," I say. "Now tell me a feeling you have about something I did right today."

"You love me. You do this right every day," and I crumble in a puddle of admiration for my eight-year-old daughter. I would rip the skin from my body if that meant she would always feel loved and happy forever.