Today was... a really, REALLY, shitty day.
I slept restlessly after forcing myself to turn off all electronics, lights, and sound at 10:30 pm, and then was up with the alarm at 3:45 am...because, well, WORK. That is, for all intents and purposes (or: intensive purposes; or: in tents and porpoises; if you are of those natures) a total of 5 hours and 15 minutes of actual sleep. Had I actually SLEPT, if you will. So, I maybe averaged a couple of solid hours somewhere in the middle and towards the end of all that.
When the alarm went off at 3:45 I was almost grateful for the permission to get up and out of bed. I started the day, before my feet hit the ground, thanking the universe for my job, for my physical ability to do it, for my mental ability to do it, for the sleep I got (such that it was) and beseeching the powers that be (yo God! Howya doin'??) to be with me in my day and to also be with my family, and #someonespecial. I did see a glorious sunrise on my drive into work and my heart was full. Cue the dope-slap upside my preshus lil' noggin...bless my heart!
I have a new job. Not news...but I am working a day shift, and a very EARLY day shift that is slightly outside of traditional shift hours: like all the truly imperative back door workers! I mean, do you think the actual doctors just show up at the hospital and then plan out who to operate on, who comes first, who has coverage, or who is first and who is last and who didn't show up and who showed up 2 hours early without insurance? Yeah... not a thing. So. My new job. Early. Important...ish. New skills, new management, new co workers, new...vibe. New...did I mention new management? Sigh.
It was a really, really, really shitty day. Some days are like that. Even in, oh... Canada. I mean, maybe... eh? I cried by 8:30 am; for the first time anyway. Oh Canada... do you cry that early too?
Tonight to soothe myself, I got my nails prettied up (cuz when work starts that early, you get OUT of work early also!) then picked up the babysitter (a very tolerant 13 year old whom I pay a kings ransom to) to relieve my underappreciated almost adult daughter (aka Hannah-the-Hero) and while Gman and Wonder-girl played, I made a trip to the local overpriced grocery store and got the fixin's for a special meal just for myself, and a frozen pizza for the short people. Short-er people. Just sayin'.
I sated myself on mozzarella, fresh basil, and my own homegrown tomatoes slathered in balsamic vinegar and a rich and tasty olive oil; and a deep, rich, velvety red wine blend. I ate and ate and... ate more. I licked my plate: no, really, I literally and actually and definitively "licked" my plate; because I was at home, bra-less, and in bare feet and cut off shorts... I mean, it seemed appropriate. But don't tell anyone cuz it might ruin my pristine image! And while I was at the store buying that mozzarella and the wine, I happened upon a discount florist table. *backstory ensues*
All my years in the past, all 40+++ ahem of them... I have killed, maimed, destroyed, and devastated every known houseplant. I have killed the unkillable. I have caused fatal damage to the hearty, to the tolerant, to the...yea even to the false and silk variety. I am ashamed. However, since my grand move of late to this odd second floor/attic level 2 story apartment, I have managed to not just keep, but cause to THRIVE, a handful of destitute and sad flora and fauna. No, I'm serious, all Orchids aside, it must be the exact placement of my dining room window whereupon a handful of previously decrepit (and now thriving) plantlings sit - because I am actually keeping foliage alive and even watching them GROW.
So tonight, in my despair, while mozzarella and wine purchases were happening, I also purchased a new bit of greenery. It was a slightly disheveled little wilty bit, with a tag declaring it was a "Prayer Plant". How could I resist? It was less than a gallon of milk, less even than the bit of Mozzarella I was splurging on. It was a Prayer Plant... was there any other logical option but "purchase"???
I bought it.
I named it.
It is, thus forth, "Lucy".
Oh right, did I mention we'd recently watched the Chronicles of Narnia? No? oh, huh, well... we did. And so... Lucy, Lucy the Valiant. Lucy, who wants to be beautiful and powerful... and actually IS although she just doesn't know it. So today, to offset the shittiness and general crapola, I am focusing on Lucy the Valiant, my newest resident and bit of joy...and my personal goal.
I am focusing on valiant-cy. Is that a word? I say it should be...valiancy. I will be valiant. I will be quiet and determined (although sometimes weepy!) and I will hold growth and joy in my heart. Well, as often as I can at least! And as I bid this shitty day goodbye, I remain steadfastly secure in my gratitude for my job, and for the side hustle that has me transcribing late into the night, and still asking for protection and blessings on my family and on #someonespecial, and trusting the universe (yo! God! you there?) to provide.
Lucy and I, and Gman and Wonder-girl, and Hannah-the-hero all wish you at least a moment of Valiancy, of truth, of bravery, of beauty and trust and glorious sunrise and tangy balsamic vinegar and sweet home grown tomato...of balance. Go... in peace, with God, in light, and in knowledge you are covered by Lucy's infinite love.
Showing posts with label Trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trust. Show all posts
July 9, 2018
September 19, 2016
Monday 9/19 Week 7; fresh start
If you know me, and I mean know me, you will know that I'm not filling these posts with the nitty gritty hard stuff that has been happening daily. If you know me, you probably have listened to me whine and vent about the nitty gritty; about how hard things are and about the exhausting battle every day of trying to figure out what is going on and what I'm supposed to do about it and how I'm supposed to go about doing it with the resources I have. I don't fill these posts with all of that because it doesn't always reflect well on G and he has had enough people noticing his less than wonderful qualities and doesn't need more of that. My intention was to write about his successes, about how this year healed his hurts, about our journey through it. I didn't realize how much of this journey was going to be about me as much as it is about him, or that it was going to be important to talk about the ugly stuff as well as the pretty stuff (ah, balance, there is that word again!)...because the truth is that any journey is not just the destination, but the path you take to get there.
I have been in a funk and sort of spiraling downwards lately. Parenting is hard, parenting alone is an extra challenge, parenting alone and as a stay at home mom, with a limited circle of support has been a foreign country to me and I am not a very good traveler! It's exhausting to be with G all the time. When I was at home with him in the beginning, it was easy. He was a teensy helpless infant at at first. And then he was an aware and curious and engaged baby. He became a smart, quick thinking, active and funny toddler with a great sense of fun and enthusiasm. Then I went to work. He was 15 months at first, and maintained his adorable inquisitive and happy nature...until he didn't. When he was about 22 months, I began working full time, and have continued at full time up until my last day on August 4th of this year: two years and two months of being away from my son (who is now 4 years and 3 months old) for almost 10 hours a day, every weekday. Just about half his life.
Therefore, I was deliberate in my attention/time with him at every opportunity because my time was limited, a few hours each evening was all we had together aside from the weekend. Every moment counted and I measured it out in increments and made each one matter.
Now that I'm with him 24/7 I keep feeling like I need a break, I need some "me time" and time for some "self care" but I don't know how to get it or when it is going to happen, so - without deliberate intention - I have been emotionally disengaging from him (and from everything) as a way to get a break of some kind. I'm burying myself into scrolling Facebook, checking emails, making lists on Amazon, planning elaborate projects that I will realistically never be able to complete, chatting with friends in a different time zone...and not truly engaging with my son the way I intended, the way I should be, the way he needs me to.
It's a brave choice, what I did, to quit my job and stay home with my hurting son. And wise - a smart choice - to heal my small boy now, instead of trying to heal him later over scars and thick protective walls. But it wasn't necessarily thought out very well. I focused on finances mostly - trying to decide if I actually COULD stay home and still pay my rent and utilities and feed my kids. Perhaps I should have spent an equal amount of time planning out everything else: how much attention he needs, how much 'me-time' I need, and how to balance those; along with his need for mental stimulation and challenge, and for social interaction, and how I was going to meet all those needs all by myself...or IF I could meet all those needs all by myself. Today I am wallowing, smack dab, in a pit of self doubt, of worry, of fear...while my beloved boy asks me "why?" and "how come?" and "how?" and "what does that mean?"on a regular basis. I need time to think about an answer. But there is no time available. I need a re-do, a do-over, a fresh start. There isn't one though. And that is the whole point of this. I can't re-do it, not any of it. I can't just have a "fresh start" or a re-do, I have to just keep going in spite of it all.
So while there is no fresh start, there is this: the ugly messy nitty-gritty dirt of helping a small boy regain trust in adults, relearn boundaries and safety and security, and re-establish hierarchy and rules and the black and white truths that sometimes rules US instead of us ruling them... and so maybe it is a fresh start after all...
Therefore, I was deliberate in my attention/time with him at every opportunity because my time was limited, a few hours each evening was all we had together aside from the weekend. Every moment counted and I measured it out in increments and made each one matter.
Now that I'm with him 24/7 I keep feeling like I need a break, I need some "me time" and time for some "self care" but I don't know how to get it or when it is going to happen, so - without deliberate intention - I have been emotionally disengaging from him (and from everything) as a way to get a break of some kind. I'm burying myself into scrolling Facebook, checking emails, making lists on Amazon, planning elaborate projects that I will realistically never be able to complete, chatting with friends in a different time zone...and not truly engaging with my son the way I intended, the way I should be, the way he needs me to.
It's a brave choice, what I did, to quit my job and stay home with my hurting son. And wise - a smart choice - to heal my small boy now, instead of trying to heal him later over scars and thick protective walls. But it wasn't necessarily thought out very well. I focused on finances mostly - trying to decide if I actually COULD stay home and still pay my rent and utilities and feed my kids. Perhaps I should have spent an equal amount of time planning out everything else: how much attention he needs, how much 'me-time' I need, and how to balance those; along with his need for mental stimulation and challenge, and for social interaction, and how I was going to meet all those needs all by myself...or IF I could meet all those needs all by myself. Today I am wallowing, smack dab, in a pit of self doubt, of worry, of fear...while my beloved boy asks me "why?" and "how come?" and "how?" and "what does that mean?"on a regular basis. I need time to think about an answer. But there is no time available. I need a re-do, a do-over, a fresh start. There isn't one though. And that is the whole point of this. I can't re-do it, not any of it. I can't just have a "fresh start" or a re-do, I have to just keep going in spite of it all.
So while there is no fresh start, there is this: the ugly messy nitty-gritty dirt of helping a small boy regain trust in adults, relearn boundaries and safety and security, and re-establish hierarchy and rules and the black and white truths that sometimes rules US instead of us ruling them... and so maybe it is a fresh start after all...
September 9, 2016
Friday 9/9; Day 25...insight and gratitude
It was a long 3 day holiday weekend. And then, life happened.
***Just for the sake of authenticity, I want to be clear that G is not living in a standard 2 parent household with a sibling group and extended family resources. His life isn't a picture perfect life that would make a painful, scary, daycare situation something he could adjust to with any grace or adaptability. There are a lot of other stressors in G's life that contribute to the fears and the struggle for control and the generalized defensiveness and unpredictability in his behaviors.***
There are often so many things that pop up that I think, "ooh! I have to blog that because it's important!" but by the end of any given day, I'm exhausted mentally, a little tired physically, and just worn out spiritually. I'm not just the primary parent for G, I'm the ONLY parent. I bear the whole burden, and G isn't my only kiddo. I worry about my oldest who lives 3000 miles away from me, I wake up in the middle of the night consumed by thoughts about my 19 yo son living a mere 15 minutes away but who isn't one for a regular chatty phone call and rarely even replies to a text message, and then there is my sweet H, my 18 yo daughter who lives with me and G and who needs just as much as G. The three of us form a semi functional unit but she takes as much of my time and energy as does G, just in a different way. I am one momma, split in 4 ways, and none of those 'ways' is even, and some of them sort of overlap, and it leaves almost nothing left.
I realize that in the overall scheme of things, I'm one of the lucky ones. G's dad is financially responsible. He is a fair and decent man and lets me have full decision making over parenting, and comes around to see G regularly. My other three kids are healthy, employed, and two of them are paying their own way thru community college. Although I just quit my job for very valid reasons, that alone is a privilege I can't dismiss. I have safe housing, with a yard. I have a new, reliable, car to drive. I have health insurance. Oh my god, I have health insurance. And after last fall and winter, I can not be grateful ENOUGH for health insurance. It may not be perfect, but as often as we were at the urgent care clinic and even the ER, and as many prescriptions as we went through... I'm grateful. So with all of these advantages, including a college education of my own and some quality (if not quantity!) friends, I try not to despair over my small boy who continues to be an enigma to me.
This week has brought us a cold and a cough, a phase of baby talk and whining, a lot of discussion about control and choice and even about status: he is the child and I am the adult. This week brought some potty issues and some 'helpless victim' behavior on G's behalf, some 'putting my foot down' on my behalf, and some thoughts about what it means to have unstructured time to fritter away, to have boredom, to waste time and BE restless, and what the benefits are in having that opportunity. This week, I didn't structure much at all. I let G indulge in his Kindle. I let him eat when he wanted to eat, and sleep (or not) mostly when he wanted to. It wasn't all roses, let me tell you!
I'm undergoing some major household restructuring to make our 1 bedroom apartment workable for 3 people - including all my needs for alone time and private space as well as H's need for privacy and a place to do schoolwork, and G's need for playspace. So I was...busy. Busy packing up things, moving things, re-organizing things...being creative, and overwhelmed, and frustrated, and being tired. We had some frustrating moments, all 3 of us really, and some really sweet and tender moments, and some super fun moments as well. Balance, it's all in the balance, as the universe keeps insisting and keeps bringing to my attention. And now I think, how do I teach G about balance? Perhaps this is the thing he needs most to learn about - the balance of good and bad, the balance of trust and mistrust, the balance of success and failure, the balance of hunger and fullness...of living, and working, and playing...and paying. How do I show that to a FOUR YEAR OLD? How do I 'not' show that to a four year old? I've prayed a lot this week. And I know I've been heard. Thank you for listening.
***Just for the sake of authenticity, I want to be clear that G is not living in a standard 2 parent household with a sibling group and extended family resources. His life isn't a picture perfect life that would make a painful, scary, daycare situation something he could adjust to with any grace or adaptability. There are a lot of other stressors in G's life that contribute to the fears and the struggle for control and the generalized defensiveness and unpredictability in his behaviors.***
There are often so many things that pop up that I think, "ooh! I have to blog that because it's important!" but by the end of any given day, I'm exhausted mentally, a little tired physically, and just worn out spiritually. I'm not just the primary parent for G, I'm the ONLY parent. I bear the whole burden, and G isn't my only kiddo. I worry about my oldest who lives 3000 miles away from me, I wake up in the middle of the night consumed by thoughts about my 19 yo son living a mere 15 minutes away but who isn't one for a regular chatty phone call and rarely even replies to a text message, and then there is my sweet H, my 18 yo daughter who lives with me and G and who needs just as much as G. The three of us form a semi functional unit but she takes as much of my time and energy as does G, just in a different way. I am one momma, split in 4 ways, and none of those 'ways' is even, and some of them sort of overlap, and it leaves almost nothing left.
I realize that in the overall scheme of things, I'm one of the lucky ones. G's dad is financially responsible. He is a fair and decent man and lets me have full decision making over parenting, and comes around to see G regularly. My other three kids are healthy, employed, and two of them are paying their own way thru community college. Although I just quit my job for very valid reasons, that alone is a privilege I can't dismiss. I have safe housing, with a yard. I have a new, reliable, car to drive. I have health insurance. Oh my god, I have health insurance. And after last fall and winter, I can not be grateful ENOUGH for health insurance. It may not be perfect, but as often as we were at the urgent care clinic and even the ER, and as many prescriptions as we went through... I'm grateful. So with all of these advantages, including a college education of my own and some quality (if not quantity!) friends, I try not to despair over my small boy who continues to be an enigma to me.
This week has brought us a cold and a cough, a phase of baby talk and whining, a lot of discussion about control and choice and even about status: he is the child and I am the adult. This week brought some potty issues and some 'helpless victim' behavior on G's behalf, some 'putting my foot down' on my behalf, and some thoughts about what it means to have unstructured time to fritter away, to have boredom, to waste time and BE restless, and what the benefits are in having that opportunity. This week, I didn't structure much at all. I let G indulge in his Kindle. I let him eat when he wanted to eat, and sleep (or not) mostly when he wanted to. It wasn't all roses, let me tell you!
I'm undergoing some major household restructuring to make our 1 bedroom apartment workable for 3 people - including all my needs for alone time and private space as well as H's need for privacy and a place to do schoolwork, and G's need for playspace. So I was...busy. Busy packing up things, moving things, re-organizing things...being creative, and overwhelmed, and frustrated, and being tired. We had some frustrating moments, all 3 of us really, and some really sweet and tender moments, and some super fun moments as well. Balance, it's all in the balance, as the universe keeps insisting and keeps bringing to my attention. And now I think, how do I teach G about balance? Perhaps this is the thing he needs most to learn about - the balance of good and bad, the balance of trust and mistrust, the balance of success and failure, the balance of hunger and fullness...of living, and working, and playing...and paying. How do I show that to a FOUR YEAR OLD? How do I 'not' show that to a four year old? I've prayed a lot this week. And I know I've been heard. Thank you for listening.
August 29, 2016
Monday 8/29; Day 16...and balance
In my daily life, I try to focus on balance. Balance good nutrition with ice cream, a late night with a next day nap, sadness and grief with some joy and laughter. If you pay attention enough, you'll recognize the ebb and flow of each day and then when things feel really bad for whatever reason, you can hold onto the knowledge that the balance of it all will return. It helps me to get thru those tough times, to know that something smoother is just around the corner. However, I tend to forget that when things are smooth and pretty, there's usually some storms brewing ahead. Thank you universe!
Saturday night at dinner I served meals to two of my own kiddos (G and H) and the two that I'm nannying, plus J (G's dad). Six people total. And, let me remind you, this was not some special planned dinner party! It was one mom feeding a rotating cast of offspring on a hot, summer night. I pulled off two vegetarian plates, one gluten free/salicylate free plate, one picky eater plate, and food enough for all. We all sat at the table together and ate and talked and shared and there was a moment of absolute completeness in my heart (save for the fact I was missing two others of my own, plus a couple of J's kids) but it just felt full and sweet and safe and like it was supposed to be exactly the way it was. I said many many words of gratitude in my mind. And my imagination is running wild with this joy and with how to recreate it in the future.
and then there's the balance...
I have been frustrated with some of G's behaviors lately. They mostly seem to be when the nanny-kids are around. One person said maybe it was a jealousy issue. I don't think so, but I'm not discounting it entirely. I feel more like it's related to trust and safety - about how much G trusts me and feels safe with me overall, and somehow when I am in charge of more children, he begins to feel threatened somehow, or maybe his inability to be flexible creates conflict and THEN he feels fear about how that will play out without trust in me to navigate it appropriately? This ultimately manifests in behaviors where he argues with everything I say and really tries to be in control of everything he can and then gets irrationally upset when he is not in charge. Also? Everything in life is nooooot fairrrrrrrr; just in case you were wondering. It's not fair that sometimes he can't be in charge of who is allowed to talk and what the topic is. The sky isn't blue, its not, it's not at all. And it isn't only 2:00 in the afternoon, it isn't, no, no it's not at ALL, the clock is wrong, it's NOT FAIR. It is mentally exhausting, for both of us. Honestly, it exhausts me and makes it really hard to enjoy any time with him because its such a barrage and onslaught of negativity that when he IS being the sweet and tender boy that I know, I'm still seething and irritated as hell. Oh Universe, are you still laughing? Of course you are... This nanny gig is one loooong stretch.
These behaviors are only obvious and having an impact when the nanny kids are around, the rest of the time he is his usual sweet, funny self. And thus, I remain perplexed.
The reason I think it has to do with trust and feeling safe is because these kinds of behaviors were new to him and popped up after he'd been in the daycare center where he was mistreated. The Child Protective Services program (where I was directed to once I figured out he was being hurt) said that those kinds of oppositional behaviors toward a parent are typical in abuse situations and can stem from a child losing trust in the adult who sent them into the situation where they were hurt. Ugh. So, yes, my son lost trust in my ability to keep him safe. I am a loser. The truth hurts. As soon as I pulled him from that place, however, I saw a distinct lessening of those behaviors and he started getting calmer, sweeter, and more cooperative, and more affectionate. It was a sweet time, although it was very brief. Once I'd found a new place for him to go to, a lot of those behaviors began surfacing again. I do temper my observation with the fact that he is often easily overwhelmed, gets tired and over stimulated quickly, and needs a lot of 'alone time'; however those negative and distrustful behaviors went beyond the exceptions.
I took him to a therapist. I talked to his pediatrician (for the record, she is the same pedi ALL my kids have had, a very trusted female, mom, and professional whom I've had positive difference of opinions with and highly value/trust her opinion; and is someone who knows me and my family). I talked to friends, and non-friends, and I researched mental health issues in preschoolers, and in abused kids, and in average kids. I researched my own parenting, my triggers, my habitual responses, how to change my parenting/triggers/habitual responses... and Cheezncrackers!!! Nothing shed light on these particular behaviors then, or now.
So if you have a suggestion, or opinion, or some sort of outside insight? Please... please speak up. Maybe it's just jealousy. pffft.
Anyway... balance. It was awesome, and then it wasn't... and everyday that I nanny these sweet kids, it's the same. There is laughter, and there is frustrated growling. There are battles for control, battles for authority and position, and subdued, penitent cuddles and apologies. There is intense connection tempered by animalistic separation. Oh universe, trusting you is the hardest thing...and when I think of how much I personally believe in and trust my own God, it's even more of a challenge to just throw my hands up and say, "It's all up to you, cuz I have NO power here at all!" But what else can I do that I haven't already tried?
And maybe, somehow, that is in fact the essential point that I need to embrace. Trust. Hope. Believe. Honor. Accept. That's a lot for day 16...and for a 4 year old...
Saturday night at dinner I served meals to two of my own kiddos (G and H) and the two that I'm nannying, plus J (G's dad). Six people total. And, let me remind you, this was not some special planned dinner party! It was one mom feeding a rotating cast of offspring on a hot, summer night. I pulled off two vegetarian plates, one gluten free/salicylate free plate, one picky eater plate, and food enough for all. We all sat at the table together and ate and talked and shared and there was a moment of absolute completeness in my heart (save for the fact I was missing two others of my own, plus a couple of J's kids) but it just felt full and sweet and safe and like it was supposed to be exactly the way it was. I said many many words of gratitude in my mind. And my imagination is running wild with this joy and with how to recreate it in the future.
and then there's the balance...
I have been frustrated with some of G's behaviors lately. They mostly seem to be when the nanny-kids are around. One person said maybe it was a jealousy issue. I don't think so, but I'm not discounting it entirely. I feel more like it's related to trust and safety - about how much G trusts me and feels safe with me overall, and somehow when I am in charge of more children, he begins to feel threatened somehow, or maybe his inability to be flexible creates conflict and THEN he feels fear about how that will play out without trust in me to navigate it appropriately? This ultimately manifests in behaviors where he argues with everything I say and really tries to be in control of everything he can and then gets irrationally upset when he is not in charge. Also? Everything in life is nooooot fairrrrrrrr; just in case you were wondering. It's not fair that sometimes he can't be in charge of who is allowed to talk and what the topic is. The sky isn't blue, its not, it's not at all. And it isn't only 2:00 in the afternoon, it isn't, no, no it's not at ALL, the clock is wrong, it's NOT FAIR. It is mentally exhausting, for both of us. Honestly, it exhausts me and makes it really hard to enjoy any time with him because its such a barrage and onslaught of negativity that when he IS being the sweet and tender boy that I know, I'm still seething and irritated as hell. Oh Universe, are you still laughing? Of course you are... This nanny gig is one loooong stretch.
These behaviors are only obvious and having an impact when the nanny kids are around, the rest of the time he is his usual sweet, funny self. And thus, I remain perplexed.
The reason I think it has to do with trust and feeling safe is because these kinds of behaviors were new to him and popped up after he'd been in the daycare center where he was mistreated. The Child Protective Services program (where I was directed to once I figured out he was being hurt) said that those kinds of oppositional behaviors toward a parent are typical in abuse situations and can stem from a child losing trust in the adult who sent them into the situation where they were hurt. Ugh. So, yes, my son lost trust in my ability to keep him safe. I am a loser. The truth hurts. As soon as I pulled him from that place, however, I saw a distinct lessening of those behaviors and he started getting calmer, sweeter, and more cooperative, and more affectionate. It was a sweet time, although it was very brief. Once I'd found a new place for him to go to, a lot of those behaviors began surfacing again. I do temper my observation with the fact that he is often easily overwhelmed, gets tired and over stimulated quickly, and needs a lot of 'alone time'; however those negative and distrustful behaviors went beyond the exceptions.
I took him to a therapist. I talked to his pediatrician (for the record, she is the same pedi ALL my kids have had, a very trusted female, mom, and professional whom I've had positive difference of opinions with and highly value/trust her opinion; and is someone who knows me and my family). I talked to friends, and non-friends, and I researched mental health issues in preschoolers, and in abused kids, and in average kids. I researched my own parenting, my triggers, my habitual responses, how to change my parenting/triggers/habitual responses... and Cheezncrackers!!! Nothing shed light on these particular behaviors then, or now.
So if you have a suggestion, or opinion, or some sort of outside insight? Please... please speak up. Maybe it's just jealousy. pffft.
Anyway... balance. It was awesome, and then it wasn't... and everyday that I nanny these sweet kids, it's the same. There is laughter, and there is frustrated growling. There are battles for control, battles for authority and position, and subdued, penitent cuddles and apologies. There is intense connection tempered by animalistic separation. Oh universe, trusting you is the hardest thing...and when I think of how much I personally believe in and trust my own God, it's even more of a challenge to just throw my hands up and say, "It's all up to you, cuz I have NO power here at all!" But what else can I do that I haven't already tried?
And maybe, somehow, that is in fact the essential point that I need to embrace. Trust. Hope. Believe. Honor. Accept. That's a lot for day 16...and for a 4 year old...
August 19, 2016
Friday August 19; Day 10
Things that are getting better by me staying home:
- G no longer wets his pants (something he hadn't done at all until suddenly he started having "accidents" in early summer and only at daycare)
- G is cuddling more, actively reaching out to me for hugs, to hold my hand, to wrap an arm around my leg and lean into me when we are standing somewhere... (these are things he did before he turned 2 and went to daycare full time but he hasn't done much of since then).
- While I don't yet have a full grasp of his natural sleep/eat cycles, I know I will figure it out. I am letting him drive that process and am learning his natural rhythms - before he went to daycare I used to know he was tired almost before he was tired. Now I understand that he goes from "OK" to "completely unglued" at warp speed, but I still believe that we can work out the key signals and get back into a groove so we can prevent or at least prepare for the majority of his melt downs.
- G and I are having FUN together on a regular basis - something that was really missing in our regular day to day lives. Fun was something I forced us to have on the weekends in between chores and errands and commitments. (you WILL have fun and you WILL like it, dammit!) Now it's spontaneous, unplanned, and taking each moment as it comes, much like the way that a Mindful Awareness class taught me to pay attention to. Perhaps I can teach him this concept as we experience this time together?
- G still likes to argue with every. single. thing. I. say. This may be a "4" thing, or it may be part of the distrust that had built up (you know, cuz I'm the one that put him in a place where grown ups hurt him and I'm the one that told him HE needed to do better...I'm the one that didn't protect him) but it's pretty much on-going. There are moments when it's better, and moments when I am so very DONE with him arguing that the sky is NOT blue or that the ground is NOT wet... note to self: you cannot win an argument with a four year old. Not without physical force anyway, and I'm just not "that" person. Side Note: I'm getting really good at losing arguments.
- G still likes to test every. single. boundary. This is definitely a "4" thing. I'm pretty sure, at my age and with 3 other children under my belt, I understand that he NEEDS to test boundaries so he feels safe and secure but Mary Mother Of God!!! I'm tired... I'm so so tired of enforcing every boundary, every time, all day, every day. But that is what I do because that is my responsibility, and mine alone. And if anyone is going to discipline my fragile, broken hearted boy, I want it to be me.
- G still likes to call all the shots. Oh yes, this kid has control issues but not all of them can be traced to a lack of power in a crucial moment.. some of them can be traced to me. I'm sorry, world, but it's true. I have control issues and so does my four year old. We make quite the team, let me tell you!
Today I had a final trial run before taking on two extra kids for a nanny position while their single mom is out of town on a business trip. It was ok. I think G may have some issues with sharing my attention as well as some issues with sharing things in general. Over all he is still adjusting to a lot of changes over the past month, which for some kids is an easy string of seamless events but for G is like a huge staircase with steps that are a little too high, a little to narrow, and a few too many. So at the end of this day, I take yet another deep breath and maybe clench my teeth just a little bit harder one more time, and I hold my son close as I tuck him in bed and I ask God and the universe to watch over us both, again, still, so that we can get through this time intact and with love. I trust that angels are around us and that all our friends are thinking hopeful positive thoughts for us.
August 9, 2016
Day Two
Yesterday was the first full day I was a stay-at-home-mom (sahm). I guess in the overall scheme of things, it went exactly as planned. That is, to say, that it didn't, at all.
We ended up driving my ex's daughter, J2, from his house where she'd stayed the night, to her home an hour away with both G and H included in the ride. *two teenage girls, loud music, singing along and being recorded, and much much much laughter* Once we reached our destination, we made a brief detour to a candy store because, well, candy. Finally we drove home with the hope to make it in time to get H home to change for work, get her TO work, and then for G and I to make it to a semi-playdate/semi-interview. We made it all on time but with less grace and finesse than I'd hoped for.
The playdate/interview was for a short term nanny position that will take care of next months rent. So it is pretty critical for us. It didn't go well mostly because G was about as prickly and thorny and ill mannered as a tired, hot, bored four year old can be so I was mutually irritated and embarrassed which made me awkward and inept. But it was the third time we've all met together so maybe it wasn't so bad that the other mom got to see us in less than prime behavior. Now she knows!
Griff fell asleep in the car around 5pm, unexpectedly as he'd already napped once on our way back from dropping J2 at her house, and slept thru the transfer from car seat to the house to the couch, slept thru falling off the couch about an hour after that, and continued to sleep until just after 7pm. Hm. Maybe that was why he acted like a feral jungle child at our playdate? I knew this 'nap' was going to ruin the evening and mean he'd probably be awake until 11pm, but then again, I didn't have to get up early for work and he didn't have to get up early for daycare so a late night and sleeping in the next day is no longer an issue, can I get an Amen?
He went to bed a little after 10pm and fell asleep right away and was up around 7:30 this morning which felt reasonable and not at all as bad as I'd imagined. But, all of that was yesterday. Today is a new day!
We made a King Arthur Flour recipe for Baking Soda Biscuits this morning. There was flour everywhere. I am really not exaggerating in the slightest. Flour. Everywhere.
Flour, a bowl, a spatula, and a four year old is really not an efficient combination. However, I didn't feel irritated like I might have in the past, nor did I take over and do it all myself while muttering under my breath. I didn't sigh with exasperation and G didn't cry or feel disappointed all because I was in a hurry. This time I didn't have to worry about getting it cleaned up before work or before I went to bed late at night, didn't have to worry about it getting on my clothes, so it was just...part of the total experience. The smile stretching his mouth and making his eyes crinkle though, and the light in his eyes while he smooshed butter into the flour with his little fingers made all the emotions well up inside my heart like filling a glass full of ice cold water on a hot dry day. His running commentary (4's talk a LOT!) was so awesome - sometimes humorous, sometimes enlightened, sometimes off the wall and sometimes he was just talking to the spatula. He may not remember this moment in another week, even I may not remember this exact moment or the feelings of love that bubbled up and threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I know it went one step further towards healing his spirit.
Today promises to be full of the unplanned. Oh, I have a list alright. Yard work, a haircut for G, and some long distance drive practice for H...and I might clean up some of that flour thats on my floor, and on the table, and dusted on the wall...or not.
On a practical note, I'm watching my budget but I'm not being as careful with it as I should be. I want to have some fun with G - I don't want my staying home with him to be a punishment for either of us when the goal is to heal his spirit. So I'm stepping out entirely in faith that God will be watching over us and getting us thru this time financially as well as emotionally. I have my savings and I know we are ok thru October and I know I can plan ahead a little but I am not going to be frantic about it. I trust God. I trust the universe. I trust in goodness. I trust that taking care of my child who is hurting is the very thing I am supposed to be doing. Please, if I forget that? Remind me.
We ended up driving my ex's daughter, J2, from his house where she'd stayed the night, to her home an hour away with both G and H included in the ride. *two teenage girls, loud music, singing along and being recorded, and much much much laughter* Once we reached our destination, we made a brief detour to a candy store because, well, candy. Finally we drove home with the hope to make it in time to get H home to change for work, get her TO work, and then for G and I to make it to a semi-playdate/semi-interview. We made it all on time but with less grace and finesse than I'd hoped for.
The playdate/interview was for a short term nanny position that will take care of next months rent. So it is pretty critical for us. It didn't go well mostly because G was about as prickly and thorny and ill mannered as a tired, hot, bored four year old can be so I was mutually irritated and embarrassed which made me awkward and inept. But it was the third time we've all met together so maybe it wasn't so bad that the other mom got to see us in less than prime behavior. Now she knows!
Griff fell asleep in the car around 5pm, unexpectedly as he'd already napped once on our way back from dropping J2 at her house, and slept thru the transfer from car seat to the house to the couch, slept thru falling off the couch about an hour after that, and continued to sleep until just after 7pm. Hm. Maybe that was why he acted like a feral jungle child at our playdate? I knew this 'nap' was going to ruin the evening and mean he'd probably be awake until 11pm, but then again, I didn't have to get up early for work and he didn't have to get up early for daycare so a late night and sleeping in the next day is no longer an issue, can I get an Amen?
He went to bed a little after 10pm and fell asleep right away and was up around 7:30 this morning which felt reasonable and not at all as bad as I'd imagined. But, all of that was yesterday. Today is a new day!
We made a King Arthur Flour recipe for Baking Soda Biscuits this morning. There was flour everywhere. I am really not exaggerating in the slightest. Flour. Everywhere.
Flour, a bowl, a spatula, and a four year old is really not an efficient combination. However, I didn't feel irritated like I might have in the past, nor did I take over and do it all myself while muttering under my breath. I didn't sigh with exasperation and G didn't cry or feel disappointed all because I was in a hurry. This time I didn't have to worry about getting it cleaned up before work or before I went to bed late at night, didn't have to worry about it getting on my clothes, so it was just...part of the total experience. The smile stretching his mouth and making his eyes crinkle though, and the light in his eyes while he smooshed butter into the flour with his little fingers made all the emotions well up inside my heart like filling a glass full of ice cold water on a hot dry day. His running commentary (4's talk a LOT!) was so awesome - sometimes humorous, sometimes enlightened, sometimes off the wall and sometimes he was just talking to the spatula. He may not remember this moment in another week, even I may not remember this exact moment or the feelings of love that bubbled up and threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I know it went one step further towards healing his spirit.
Today promises to be full of the unplanned. Oh, I have a list alright. Yard work, a haircut for G, and some long distance drive practice for H...and I might clean up some of that flour thats on my floor, and on the table, and dusted on the wall...or not.
On a practical note, I'm watching my budget but I'm not being as careful with it as I should be. I want to have some fun with G - I don't want my staying home with him to be a punishment for either of us when the goal is to heal his spirit. So I'm stepping out entirely in faith that God will be watching over us and getting us thru this time financially as well as emotionally. I have my savings and I know we are ok thru October and I know I can plan ahead a little but I am not going to be frantic about it. I trust God. I trust the universe. I trust in goodness. I trust that taking care of my child who is hurting is the very thing I am supposed to be doing. Please, if I forget that? Remind me.
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