Some time ago, one of my friends was telling me about something painful or stressful in her life. After telling me what was going on, she said something like, "But I shouldn't complain. There are so many people who have it so much worse than I do."
We often feel the need to apologize for our expressing our stress and pain, don't we? Liz recently posted about how much she's minimized her stress. How she knows she has a great life, but has realized she has to face up to the reality of the stress she's feeling. Good for her!
When my friend apologized for complaining (considering everyone who has it worse than she does), I told her, "Hey, the fact that your neighbor got impaled by a fence post, doesn't make your paper cut hurt any less."
If you live in a developed country (like America) you are probably aware of the vast numbers of people around the world who are far less fortunate than you are. Even nearby, you might have friends or family members who are battling life-threatening illness. You may know someone whose marriage is breaking up. Whatever you're going through, you can almost always find someone who has it worse.
But that doesn't make your stress and pain any less valid! Pain hurts, whether it's "little pain" or "big pain." And we're wired in such a way that we need support...for the little stuff and the big stuff.
So my encouragement to you is this: Seek out the true friends around you. (That includes "real life" friends and "virtual" friends!) And when you're hurting, tell them about it. Don't apologize for it. It's okay to reach out. It's good to reach out! And part of the joy of vulnerability is when you get the chance to be there for your friends too.
I'm glad I can be there for my friends, and I'm glad they're there for me...for the big stuff and the little stuff. Because whether you've been impaled by a fence post or you have a paper cut, you deserve support.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
I'm back! And I had a baby!
I wasn't quite sure how to announce that on my blog, so I figured I'd just come right out with it in the title of the post!
At some point in between my last post and this one, I had a baby. Not my baby, my best friend's baby. If that's confusing to you, you definitely need to catch up on some old blog posts.
I'm not going to write a lot about the baby here. I want to let Ann return to the world of blogging whenever she's adjusted to being a mama of three, and at that time she can share whatever she'd like to share. (I will, however, say that the baby is super-duper cute and cuddly, and does indeed have a gender, though I'm going to let Ann be the one to announce it!)
I'm also not planning to share a birth story at this point. This time it's not my story; it's ours. But I do want to tell you that Ann was completely awesome as my primary labor support! The midwife even told her later that she was the best labor partner she'd ever seen. My husband was fantastic too, and having both of them there was really important to me. But it was appropriate that the baby's mom be the one most involved in helping with her baby's birth. She was loving; she anticipated what I needed; she didn't freak out when I was in pain (loudly in pain at times!) Every birthing mom should have an Ann!
I'll also tell you that this was another beautiful birth at the midwife-staffed birthing center. It was challenging and miraculous and awesome. The baby was born into Ann's arms, and that seemed to me to be just so right. I was so happy to feel that way...to look at Ann holding her baby for the first time, and to joyfully realize that the baby was exactly where it belonged.
That's the thing.... I was so aware through the whole pregnancy, labor, and birth that the baby didn't belong with me. Carrying Ann and M.'s child was a joyous thing; I'm so glad that since they needed someone's womb, I could offer mine! But a baby belongs with its family! And being able to be part of uniting this baby with its family.... It was incredible. It was a huge privilege to be there when they met their child. It was awesome.
People have been pretty concerned that I'd bond with the baby and slip into depression after the birth, because of being separated from this life that I was connected to for nine months. But since the birth, I haven't once wanted to take that sweet child home with me! God really protected my heart.
That's not to say I've been happy 100% of the time. Of course I'm hormonal. I anticipated that. I'm also adjusting back to "normal life," after focusing so much on this pregnancy. Honestly, I miss sharing a pregnancy with Ann. It was an incredibly precious, unique, amazing experience. I miss that more than I miss the baby.
But even though it's hard to say goodbye to such a life-changing season, I know that things are now where they should be. Ann and M. are adjusting to being parents of three now. I'm re-adjusting to being "just" a wife and mom, and reminding myself that just because one important role in my life is past doesn't mean my wife/mom roles are any less important.
In fact, it's good for me to be able to re-focus on my own family. I found it so sweet to cuddle with my kids on the day of the birth, without a big belly between us! So yes, I miss the "shared pregnancy" experience, but I have a new appreciation for the precious relationships I have with my husband and children. And Ann and I built an intimate friendship that we expect to enjoy for a lifetime. I'm so incredibly blessed to have a friend like her.
So here I am. I'm back. I had a baby. And that birth was the culmination of an experience I won't ever regret. I will cherish the memories forever. The opportunity to share a pregnancy with my best friend was indescribably special. Thank you, Ann, for trusting me to join with your family in such a profound way!
After I wrote this post and saved it, Ann and I decided to publish our announcement posts at the same time. So if you want more details on the baby--including a picture!-- go check out Ann's blog!
At some point in between my last post and this one, I had a baby. Not my baby, my best friend's baby. If that's confusing to you, you definitely need to catch up on some old blog posts.
I'm not going to write a lot about the baby here. I want to let Ann return to the world of blogging whenever she's adjusted to being a mama of three, and at that time she can share whatever she'd like to share. (I will, however, say that the baby is super-duper cute and cuddly, and does indeed have a gender, though I'm going to let Ann be the one to announce it!)
I'm also not planning to share a birth story at this point. This time it's not my story; it's ours. But I do want to tell you that Ann was completely awesome as my primary labor support! The midwife even told her later that she was the best labor partner she'd ever seen. My husband was fantastic too, and having both of them there was really important to me. But it was appropriate that the baby's mom be the one most involved in helping with her baby's birth. She was loving; she anticipated what I needed; she didn't freak out when I was in pain (loudly in pain at times!) Every birthing mom should have an Ann!
I'll also tell you that this was another beautiful birth at the midwife-staffed birthing center. It was challenging and miraculous and awesome. The baby was born into Ann's arms, and that seemed to me to be just so right. I was so happy to feel that way...to look at Ann holding her baby for the first time, and to joyfully realize that the baby was exactly where it belonged.
That's the thing.... I was so aware through the whole pregnancy, labor, and birth that the baby didn't belong with me. Carrying Ann and M.'s child was a joyous thing; I'm so glad that since they needed someone's womb, I could offer mine! But a baby belongs with its family! And being able to be part of uniting this baby with its family.... It was incredible. It was a huge privilege to be there when they met their child. It was awesome.
People have been pretty concerned that I'd bond with the baby and slip into depression after the birth, because of being separated from this life that I was connected to for nine months. But since the birth, I haven't once wanted to take that sweet child home with me! God really protected my heart.
That's not to say I've been happy 100% of the time. Of course I'm hormonal. I anticipated that. I'm also adjusting back to "normal life," after focusing so much on this pregnancy. Honestly, I miss sharing a pregnancy with Ann. It was an incredibly precious, unique, amazing experience. I miss that more than I miss the baby.
But even though it's hard to say goodbye to such a life-changing season, I know that things are now where they should be. Ann and M. are adjusting to being parents of three now. I'm re-adjusting to being "just" a wife and mom, and reminding myself that just because one important role in my life is past doesn't mean my wife/mom roles are any less important.
In fact, it's good for me to be able to re-focus on my own family. I found it so sweet to cuddle with my kids on the day of the birth, without a big belly between us! So yes, I miss the "shared pregnancy" experience, but I have a new appreciation for the precious relationships I have with my husband and children. And Ann and I built an intimate friendship that we expect to enjoy for a lifetime. I'm so incredibly blessed to have a friend like her.
So here I am. I'm back. I had a baby. And that birth was the culmination of an experience I won't ever regret. I will cherish the memories forever. The opportunity to share a pregnancy with my best friend was indescribably special. Thank you, Ann, for trusting me to join with your family in such a profound way!
After I wrote this post and saved it, Ann and I decided to publish our announcement posts at the same time. So if you want more details on the baby--including a picture!-- go check out Ann's blog!
Thursday, June 14, 2012
CLEAN UP!!!!! NOW!!!!!
For the record, shouting (as I just did in the title of this post) is not an effective way to get your kids to clean up. You'd think I'd know that by now....
Let me backtrack a bit. I have been guilty of "helping" my kids clean up (often doing all of it for them) far, far, far too often. But you know what? I'm 37 1/2 weeks pregnant. In the last few weeks, I have become less and less willing to clean up my kids' toys for them.
So I informed them recently that this summer is the summer when they learn to clean up by themselves. Incidentally, they're good at doing this in their rooms. But in the living room (where a lot of their toys reside), I've trained them too well to depend on me to get it done. No longer!
This week I've really started focusing on ways to get them to clean up...ways that don't require me to repeat, "You're supposed to be cleaning up!" seventy bajillion times along the way. I should be able to tell them once, and they should be able to do it.
So I've tried time outs on the couch, and time outs in their rooms, and longer grounding in their rooms. And I've just had trouble getting any of that to work really effectively.
By today, I was just fed up and frustrated. Which leads me to my embarrassing reminder that screaming doesn't work. All it does is give me a sore throat and make me feel guilty.
After I'd screamed at them today, I tried something else.
"If you're playing with a toy instead of cleaning it up," I said, "I'm throwing it away."
Chickie immediately tested me. Into the trash can went a headband, and then a little toy laptop thing.
Then she grinned and played with one of Zoodle's dress-up hats, and I realized my policy needed to change.
"Well, I can't throw that away; it's Zoodle's," I said. "So I'll throw away a piece of your dress-up clothes." I found a princess dress (one that I got cheap at Goodwill), and into the trash it went. Chickie wasn't too happy, but she realized I meant business, and she began to clean up.
Then I saw that Zoodle was playing with Jenga blocks. Again, I needed to refine the rule. "Okay," I said, "I don't want to throw away a game that belongs to the whole family. So I'm going to find something of yours to throw away instead." I found the little Spiderman cake-topper that he had on his birthday cake this year. Not too expensive, but something I know he's a little attached to. Into the trash it went. A few minutes later, I threw away a rubber bouncy ball.
Oh yeah, and at some point, one of Chickie's coloring books went in the trash too.
You know what? I did have to throw away several things. But it worked. They got motivated, and they got the clean-up done. And I may have to throw away more things tomorrow, but I bet it won't take long at all until this little lesson has been learned (thoroughly!)
A couple of keys to this tactic: I was mad, but I stayed pretty calm and matter-of-fact as I was throwing things away. Also, the toys are staying in the trash. They won't magically reappear in the toy bin. They are gone.
I'm always happy to discover a parenting strategy that works. And if it can save my throat from post-yelling rawness? That's icing on the top of the cake.
Let me backtrack a bit. I have been guilty of "helping" my kids clean up (often doing all of it for them) far, far, far too often. But you know what? I'm 37 1/2 weeks pregnant. In the last few weeks, I have become less and less willing to clean up my kids' toys for them.
So I informed them recently that this summer is the summer when they learn to clean up by themselves. Incidentally, they're good at doing this in their rooms. But in the living room (where a lot of their toys reside), I've trained them too well to depend on me to get it done. No longer!
This week I've really started focusing on ways to get them to clean up...ways that don't require me to repeat, "You're supposed to be cleaning up!" seventy bajillion times along the way. I should be able to tell them once, and they should be able to do it.
So I've tried time outs on the couch, and time outs in their rooms, and longer grounding in their rooms. And I've just had trouble getting any of that to work really effectively.
By today, I was just fed up and frustrated. Which leads me to my embarrassing reminder that screaming doesn't work. All it does is give me a sore throat and make me feel guilty.
After I'd screamed at them today, I tried something else.
"If you're playing with a toy instead of cleaning it up," I said, "I'm throwing it away."
Chickie immediately tested me. Into the trash can went a headband, and then a little toy laptop thing.
Then she grinned and played with one of Zoodle's dress-up hats, and I realized my policy needed to change.
"Well, I can't throw that away; it's Zoodle's," I said. "So I'll throw away a piece of your dress-up clothes." I found a princess dress (one that I got cheap at Goodwill), and into the trash it went. Chickie wasn't too happy, but she realized I meant business, and she began to clean up.
Then I saw that Zoodle was playing with Jenga blocks. Again, I needed to refine the rule. "Okay," I said, "I don't want to throw away a game that belongs to the whole family. So I'm going to find something of yours to throw away instead." I found the little Spiderman cake-topper that he had on his birthday cake this year. Not too expensive, but something I know he's a little attached to. Into the trash it went. A few minutes later, I threw away a rubber bouncy ball.
Oh yeah, and at some point, one of Chickie's coloring books went in the trash too.
You know what? I did have to throw away several things. But it worked. They got motivated, and they got the clean-up done. And I may have to throw away more things tomorrow, but I bet it won't take long at all until this little lesson has been learned (thoroughly!)
A couple of keys to this tactic: I was mad, but I stayed pretty calm and matter-of-fact as I was throwing things away. Also, the toys are staying in the trash. They won't magically reappear in the toy bin. They are gone.
I'm always happy to discover a parenting strategy that works. And if it can save my throat from post-yelling rawness? That's icing on the top of the cake.
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