Walk with Him

Today, after a long weekend away at a leadership conference, I decided to take the opportunity to tour our newest Phoenix area LDS Temple.

Before entering the Temple, each visitor is assisted in placing white paper booties over their shoes in order to keep the white and light color flooring clean. Of course, my sensory processing disorder Monster Man, wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. I informed him that he either had to ride on my back THE WHOLE TIME or wear the booties so he could walk. Sadly, this didn't help my case.

As we walked through the nearly 40 minute tour, I expected to become tired quickly. I mean, the kid weighs about 40 pounds!

The temple was extraordinary. There was extensive beautiful molding, magnificent chandeliers, and truly amazing art. Most of the art work were depictions were of Christ and His life and ministries.
As we walked through the halls of the temple, I saw an image of Christ with Mary Magdalene at His feet and suddenly I realized that the weight of my son on my back was nearly non-existent.
I was sweating a little, and occasionally felt a twinge of stress in my shoulder, but the weight of this child on my back was not bother some.

Tears began to fall. I realized the parallel of this short tour with our journey walking with Christ, our Savior.

When we give all of our burdens over to Him, and allow Him to guide and direct our lives, our burdens feel lighter. This doesn't mean there's never any trials, but the weight of them feel lighter.
I can't fully express my feelings in that moment but I can say that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that He loves you and me and is ready to lighten our burdens if we will accept Him into our lives.

As we exited the temple and returned to the outside world, removed our booties, and headed toward the parking lot, the heaviness of this child on my back became great, and quickly.
There are parallels in this too; when we decide we don't need Him, our burdens begin to weigh us down again.

Give Him all your cares and worries and walk in the Light.

xoxo!


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Time out.

Sometimes, I reach a point where I can no longer be as peaceful and empathetic toward my children as I would like to be. For whatever reason, I'm not fully present.

I begin to feel like a really, really crappy mom.

At that moment today, I texted Husband that my patience was running low. His response was one single, and yet wildly profound word:

Refocus. 

And just like that, I am reminded that empathy starts with me.

But what does that mean? Well, empathy looks different on every person, and sometimes every day.

Today, for me, being empathetic to myself means putting the monsters in their beds, each with a show to watch on an electronic device. It means Momma needs a time out.

doTERRA's Elevation and Serenity on, tall cold glass of water with lime, sitting at my desk, feet up. I just need 10 minutes of quiet; I need a time out.

Quickly into my solitude, the Princess Girl comes storming out. "My Sad. My need My momma."

**sigh** ok... empathy. "Darlin', Momma is in time out. Momma did not make good choices and momma is in time out."

She erupts into giggles and settles herself into the couch adjacent to where I'm sitting, apparently happy to continue her movie near to me.

Moments later, she is angry I will not replace the 1/3 eaten tortilla on the ottoman for a brand new one. She throws a plate. "You seem upset."

She throws a toy and it ricochets into my feet. "hmmm... That's two. You may have another tortilla when you eat that one."

She proceeds to throw the tortilla at me.  "That's three. Time to cool down."

I walk her to our spot in the hall where we sit and breathe.

She slaps me. "you seem really angry"

I carry her to bed and lay her down. "Take some deep breaths, cool down. You may come out when you're ready to use soft words and soft hands."

I close the door and walk back to my desk. 90 seconds passes. She's no longer screaming in my direction.

I hear tiny her feet scurry across the floor.

The door opens and closes loudly.

Silence.

A minute or two passes.

Quietly, I hear the door open and close softly followed by hesitant scampering down the hall.

She comes around the corner into the play room and pauses. "My Sad."

"I know. Are you ready to talk?"

She runs to me and climbs into my lap. She nestles into my shoulder. "Princess, do we throw things when we're mad?"

"sometimes..."

"Should we?"

"No."

"Okay. Are you ready to play?"

"yes."

She takes off to find her Hello Kittys without so much as a mention of her need for a fresh tortilla.

My darling Princess Girl, I love you more than my life, sass and all. You're giving me gray hairs. You're giving me sleepless nights and bags under my eyes. But Love, I absolutely adore you.

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I'm in Control

I've been on an incredible parenting journey the last year or so.

Together, Husband and I have been trying to learn and adapt ourselves to be more patient, non-aggressive, non-violent, peaceful parents. Empathy is sometimes a hard thing to teach if you struggle to be empathetic toward yourself.

I recently heard a quote I love:

                Empathy isn't taught. It’s caught.

So I’m trying hard to be more empathetic so our Monsters can catch it. Sometimes empathy starts with autonomy.  

As mothers, autonomy isn't something we typically excel at. We feel guilty locking the bathroom door while we poop or shower. We feel guilty wanting to grocery shop alone.  I cannot teach my Monsters to be strong and independent if I never allow myself the right of autonomy and self-governance. That means the guilt has to go away. It is perfectly acceptable to pee alone and shop for jeans without the family in-tow.

Guilt does not serve me. It doesn't put food on the table, buy groceries, fold laundry, keep me sane, or change diapers. Let the guilt go. **deep breaths**

As I’m learning to allow myself space, I’m noticing how empowered my Monsters are becoming in their own skin.

Monster Man REALLY likes to antagonize Princess Girl, just as most older brothers do their little sisters, especially in the car, but tonight on our drive home as he began to pick at her, she held her palm up to him. Calmly, and a little loudly, she said “Stop. My in control my body. My not listening.”

It only took a small prompting for her to remember that only she is in control of her body, just as he is the only one in control of his. They each have used this in their own defense. Monster Man even told a beloved relative that he could not have a hug because “only I control my body. I hug when I’m ready.”

How profound that at the ages of 2 and 3, they already have a grasp on something that took me nearly 27 years to just begin learn. Learning this has been HUGE for my Monsters. Unfortunately, it makes them even more head strong J but I know that no one will ever be able to push my kids around or force them into anything.  Ever.

I am so amazed every day at the strength of my wonderful Monsters who continually show me all the things I need to heal within myself. Heavenly Father knew exactly what we needed when He sent them to us and I thank Him every day.

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Potential

Each of us has potential inside of us, some for good and some for bad. We all also have who we inherently are if we don't strive for any change whether for good or bad.

Tonight, I saw a glimmer of who I will become if I stop striving to do and be "better." It wasn't pretty; in fact, it was entirely frightening. It was as if I was staring directly into the face of what I fear the most: becoming my father. The anger and aggression in my words were staggering to hear coming out of my mouth. Husband and my little brother were taken aback and stunned at the striking resemblance I had to the person I try so hard to separate myself from. Of two things I'm grateful. First, that none of this was directed at my little monsters. And second, both my darling husband and my brother were very quick to call me out on my shit.

Driving home, Husband and I had a good talk and I had many tears.

I was reminded that the part of who I am that was inherently good at my beginning, was damaged, quite possibly irrevocably broken, long ago, well before I could be accountable for determining right from wrong.
From very early in my life, I knew I was completely alone in my choices and that no one would save me even though I so desperately needed saving. I grew up in an environment that never allowed me to feel safe in my own home until the day I married my Husband.

I do NOT want to be that cause of fear in the lives of my little monsters. I do not want to foster the kind of resentment in my marriage or other relationships that I witnessed growing up.

So what do I do now in the face of my greatest fear becoming a reality?? After I dry my tears and apologize to two of the most important men in my life, what do I do next?

First, I think these fears and tears need a moment of validation. Next, the apologies and a good night's sleep.

And then, the work.

I doubt I'll ever be able to fully repair the part of me that used to be inherently good. . . What I can do is work hard every. single. day. to create muscle memory that always leads me to the good.

In these moments, it's hard for me to not think about what could have been if someone had been there to protect me or if I'd had a different man for my father, one who was kind, patient, and loving, someone like my father in law or any of my brothers in law, someone like my husband. But some day I've got to figure out how to give up all those what ifs.

Sadly, I'm not there yet. I'm still in it. I'm still doing the work. All I can do is TRY. Every day. For the rest of my life.

I know that in the Eternities, all these wounds of mine will be healed. My pain will be taken from me. Sometimes I wish I could be there in that paradise sooner. But then I remember that every day is a gift. No matter how much pain I feel, I can make a better life for my monsters than the one I had and pray that they will give their own little monsters a better life too. Little by little, I'm putting the pieces together.

Without my Husband or the gospel, I'd be the face in the mirror that causes nightmares.

Tonight I pray and tomorrow I go to work. Thank Heaven for Eternal Perspective.


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Shift. And Pause.

Sometimes in life we go through things that change us; for better or worse, it tends to be permanent.
For most, it's the death of a loved one, cancer, lay offs that result in career shifts. Ya know, generally HUGE things. I never regarded pregnancy and having children as something that could cause such dramatic change to my core like those other things. I mean, I knew that having children would change me but I had no idea just how much.

After having each of my children, I faced enormous odds in my mental health and in how I cope. Mine was not a happy upbringing, and I've never been the kind of girl who could be considered generally happy until the years immediately preceding the arrival of my beautiful little monsters. My husband and I were disgustingly, deliriously, happy the vast majority of the time when we decided to bring children into our life. But no one really talks about just how hard having children can be or just how much your marriage can suffer if you don't put forth enough effort. I have spent the better part of the past three and a half years depressed. Not sad, real, all encompassing, overwhelming, struggling to function, DEPRESSED.

The birth of each child has forced me to reevaluate who I am to the core, as a person, a friend, a wife, a daughter, and now a mother. I've done this work before. It's how we came to be blissful in our life B.C. (before children). However, I had to walk the hard road all over again, and sometimes crawl when I couldn't find the strength to stand. I had to deal with all the shit that I've survived all over again and RE-learn how to forgive and let go. Trust me when I say, "This is not an easy journey." It is HARD; it is PAINFUL. But each time, there comes a point that I can see the bottom and I know that all I have left to do is turn and fight, to take the hard road and pray that I come out alright on the other side. There is always collateral damage. There is always change in both myself and my relationships. Sometimes those relationships fail. And sometimes they don't.

Over the years, I've had many close friends who become like family. Yet somewhere along the lines, the friendships begin to not serve one or both of us and so things have to change. And that's okay, sometimes change is good. It's not uncommon for these friends to drift apart and go separate ways. Although I'll always love them and save a chair for them at our "family" gatherings (to me, family is the people I love, my village if you will, not just blood)

A while back when I was deeply entrenched in my work, someone I love dearly told me that I can be like an immovable rock and that those around me are forced to conform to fit because I will not change shape. At the time, this cut deeply and I distanced myself from them. Looking back though, I see the truth of this and think this person knew me better than most others and was able to say something from a place of love that most others could never have. I needed to hear that even though it hurt.

Through this process of reevaluation and shift, I'm learning how to change my shape. I can still be unyielding and uncompromising but I now am able to see how my relationships can benefit from my being able to shift.
I'm learning... er, stumbling, to take care of my own needs and feelings FIRST so that I may take care of the needs and feelings of those who share space with me.

I'm learning to discern which feelings deserve a moment of processing before being discarded and which deserve to be spoken and expressed. Empathy can be difficult to learn. The unfortunate side effect of learning this new skill of mine is that I am now even more sensitive. HAHA! I didn't know that was possible!!

I have a greater ability to sense others' emotions, especially my little monsters and my family.

I've always been the kind of person who will care for those I love at my own expense. I'm inherently a care giver. To a fault. I "give" so much of myself, that sometimes I loose myself and frequently run on empty.
But there comes a point when I have to draw the line in the sand. I can only give, reach out, and initiate friendship so much before I have to stop. You see, part of that learning empathy I've been doing, means I have to have some for myself. It's probably the single hardest lesson I've had to learn.

Relationships inherently require a certain level of vulnerability but sometimes you have to pause and have empathy and care for yourself. So here I am. I'm giving pause. I'm patiently waiting, hoping, that a hand will extend my way with just a little love and watch-keeping that I'm in need of at this moment.

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Princess

It's been a while since I've posted and I'm ok with that. Life happens. 

Like, for example, small people and their daddy being sick for like a WHOLE. MONTH. It has sucked. Hard core. And I'm exhausted. But I'm ready to at least attempt to get back to my life. HA! ...with two toddlers around, who know what will happen tomorrow.

One thing I missed in my blog-acation was the birthday of my beautiful Princess Girl. She turned TWO on the fifth of this month! And of course I can't let such an occasion pass without showing you a little of the girl we adore so much!

we loved and knew her from belly to birth. 

She had us all absolutely smitten the moment we laid eyes on her and heard the song of her strong tiny lungs. She took her timeand came to us only when SHE was ready. Her sweet and sassy disposition was clear immediately and more apparent with each passing day. We love her sass and spunk more every day. I am SO blessed to be her Momma. 

 xoxo,
Sara


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Choosing Work

About 5 weeks ago, I began a journey into a higher level of peaceful, empathetic parenting. It's been an incredibly painful and difficult process but most of the best things are.

In the first few weeks, I was asked to come to terms with how I was parented and then to understand how it affects the way I parent and the things that elicit an emotional response from me.

I would venture to say that most of us would rather not dig into old wounds especially if they're still figuratively festering. Somethings are better left buried but in the case of emotional trauma, I think it's almost always beneficial to "do the work" and settle the past to let it go.

I could be considered an emotionally volatile person in that I have deep emotional responses when triggered. One of the hardest things I'm learning to do is understand when what I'm feeling isn't serving me. In those cases, I allow myself time to sit with the potentially irrational emotion and understand why I'm feeling it. Even "irrational" emotions deserve their day in the sun, to be heard and honored. Once I've sifted through things a bit, I do my best to turn the metaphorical burner off and allow it to simmer down and cool. I let it go.

Once I let it go, I move on to more situationally appropriate emotions that serve me, my kids, and whomever else I'm interacting with. I'm striving to live my life and feel my emotions more compassionately and empathetically.

I've learned something that is life changing for me: until this point, I've considered myself "broken" and "damaged." I tossed these words around in the description of myself for so long that it's started to feel like a safe place. But the reality is, I'm not actually either of those things. Those words describe a victim to whom things happen. I have come to the realization that depression is a state of being, like a pot of stew simmer on the stove. It doesn't require any action on it's own account. Someone else is doing all the work, adjusting the temperature and adding ingredients at will. Depression is an existence.

Emotion, on the other hand, require action. Sadness takes time to cope with, sometimes tears and sometimes the ear of an understanding and trusted friend. Sadness is a progressive emotion. Depression takes up residence.

This is not to say that depression is a choice for everyone. There are many people, myself included at times, who are truly overwhelmed and debilitated by depression that feels like outside force weighing down our breath. This is different from choosing to exist in a depressed state of being as I have allowed myself these last few months. It was easier to wallow in pain than to feel real emotion.

Regardless of whether our depression is inherent or a choice, WORK is always a choice. I choose to do work.

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