Just for fun, this is pretty much how every conversation starts when I meet a new person.
There and Back Again
Today, I read a hilarious blog post on Motherhood WTF and it reminded me of an incident I experienced during my adventures in parenting I like to call “Vindication.”
Two years ago, my two eldest children refused to clean their playroom. Nothing I did or said would convince them to clean their playroom. I would ask, threaten, yell, bribe, punish, reward and nothing I did would get them to clean their playroom.
Finally, I called my foster mom and said to her; “I’m sorry for my teenage bedroom.”
My housekeeping skills aren’t exactly top notch. It’s been something I’ve been working on for several years and I’m finally getting into a routine where my house is actually clean on a regular basis (unless of course you came over right now. I have to rebuild the house after the children go to bed hahaha). So, my teenage bedroom was a mess of clothes, Beanie Babies and posters of hunks. Nothing was put away the way it should be. Nothing. My parents rode me constantly about it and I never listened.
So, my apologetic phone call brought about all sorts of giggles from my foster mom.
“Not so fun, is it?”
Nope, it sure isn’t. I think every parent has that moment of “You finally get yours” when their child has to admit that they sound like their parent. I know I quote my foster mom on a regular basis. Clearly she taught me well, after all, I find most of my parenting style was taken from her example.
Someday, I’ll get my big parenting vindication, when one of my daughters calls me and tells me the same thing; that I was right about one of our biggest mother/daughter squabbles. Until then, I’ll just remind myself that glorious day is coming and its going to feel amazing.
Music Again
When I was a kid, I only had two goals in my life. I wanted to be a writer and I wanted to sing.
Fast forward to my 19th year of life, when I took a chance and applied to Humber College’s Bachelor of Music program (and journalism to fall back on). Shockingly enough, I received an advanced acceptance to both! I was so excited and I told my music teacher Mrs. Christmas (no her first name wasn’t Mary. That was her husband’s first wife) who reiterated what the faculty @ Humber said, that my future in performing arts was limited because while I was a talented singer, I had a squeak. The squeak would prevent me from ever becoming a successful performer. So, I gave up on my dream of full time performing and focused solely on writing. This is likely for the best, as I am a much better performer than I am a singer.
Anywho, years later (you don’t need to know how many), my friend Yogi said she wanted to sing @ karaoke with me and I sent her an audio clip of me singing acapella and she told me that it was great! No mention of the dreaded squeak that made me somehow untalented. Just that I was awesome. So, from that day on, I accepted the squeak.
We all have something like that. I am an amazing person except for ____. However, we need to swap out “except” with “accept”. By embracing the things about us and the people around us that totally suck, we will be able to truly love ourselves for who and what we are. So, I will always accept the parts of me that suck and be completely accepting of my flaws, just like my squeak. I seriously contemplated uploading audio of me singing my favourite song (Stubborn Love by the Lumineers) because I’m pretty sure I squeak a lot, but I am techno stupid and I don’t know how to do that.
So, the next time someone says “you’re great except…” just swap that word for “accept” and love who you are, squeak and all.
All To Myself
A.K.A. Random-assnisity.
I know that chances are, my next updates will be darker in tone, as my life runs from happy-silly to dark on a regular basis, so I decided to write a fluffy, silly little post in the hopes of making everyone laugh. I like to break up the seriousness of life with random-ass silliness, which is kind of the point of this sort of silly little post today.
So, here are 20 random ass things about MHC.
1. I’ve decided to stop my tattoo count @ nine. This means I need three more. I know what they will be and where they will go because I’m awesome.
2. I actually had the most refreshingly interesting conversation about parenting with someone who doesn’t have any kids. He has his own blog, that I would strongly suggest you check out.
3. The necklace I wear every day is the Triforce. People either ask if I love the Legend of Zelda, or if I am in the Illuminati. My answer varies depending on my mood.
4. I will never understand how Lil Wayne is a thing.
5. Before completing this blog post, I was dancing around the house, singing the song that is the title of this post. It was awesome.
6. I’m lying; my dancing was terrible and my 3yo gave me crap for the curse word.
7. I have not eaten my entire lunch by myself since my eldest daughter started eating solid food. Today is no exception.
8. I’m allergic to grass. This makes mowing my lawn difficult and I have actually lost my dog in the grass. But every time I go to mow it, it rains, so I can only assume that God doesn’t want me to mow my lawn.
9. My mom yelled @ me for letting the kids play AROUND THE CORNER. I may have laughed @ her.
10. My mom may be pissed at me.
11. I do not for the life of me understand the point of the show Adventure Time. My 6yo doesn’t get the adult humour and thinks it’s the most awesome show in the history of everything, but I stare blankly and go…WTF?
12. I will gladly use words I make up in sentences and hyperbole such as eleventy million, but don’t you dare say “Funner.”
13. I watch Sailor Moon. Sometimes my kids aren’t even awake. Sometimes I’m a loser.
14. I sometimes can’t tell my cats apart. This is why I’m glad I never had twins.
15. I have an overwhelming urge to watch Dr. Strangelove.
16. I use Listerine like that guy in My Big Fat Greek Wedding uses Windex.
17. I’m determined to own a French and English copy of Le Petit Prince.
18. To this day, I have yet to have someone “Dessine-moi une mouton.”
19. I still like boy bands. Yes, even NKOTB. No, not the new ones. Especially not the Wanted.
20. I may have convinced my youngest daughter to stay out of the basement by telling her boogey-monster lives down there and it eats anyone under the age of 5. She now yells down the basement well wishes to the boogey-monster, like “Good morning Boogey-Monster! Have a good day!”
Cry
There are two very different facets of my personality.
There is the adorably dynamic & charismatic bubble brain that people know & love & there is another side, that I like to call “Crazy crying MH.”
Crazy crying MH is actually super annoying. She strains my relationships because people perceive me as weak & people feel the urge to protect me from bad things. It means my logical mind cannot process what’s happening, or I’m feeling overwhelmed, or an extreme emotion, like betrayal, sadness, confusion, etc. It’s frustrating for the people around me & I love the people who @ least try to be my friend even though Crazy crying MH exists.
My parents handled it easily, they told me that my emotions were high & to retreat to my room while I had a chance to calm down. I asked the friends who have known me my entire life how they handled my melodramatic crying jags & they said “we told you to shut the f*ck up & you would stop & be like, sorry about that. Then you’d talk like a normal person & be cool again.” There is one person in this world who can calm my self imposed hysteria by saying my name. However, I hate Crazy crying MH.
I hate her because she brings back that desperate need to be approved of, loved & accepted. When I feel lost, or like my interpersonal relationships are strained or that I can’t communicate my feelings properly, that’s when I become that person that I hate. My ex husband is right on the level that I allow my friends to influence me & my choices more than I’d like, because deep down, I’m afraid that their lack of approval in my profession, my choice in mate, my hair, et al, that I’ll lose some of their respect, which prompts me to second guess myself, which brings out Crazy crying MH, which makes them lose respect for me, which makes me cry more, which brings about the cycle of suck.
But it all comes back to me & my reluctance to be confident in my life, my choices, my path. Wasn’t the whole point of escaping the controlling douche husband for me to become my own person? So, why does it matter if my friends approve of every little thing? I don’t agree with all of their choices, why do I expect them to agree with all of mine & why does it weigh on me when they don’t approve? I don’t like the idea that people will view my friends like they’re my bodyguards, it’s disrespectful to them, because I don’t want my friends to feel like they have to be my brute squad, because then I’ve given them a job & I don’t want to burden people with protecting me. Maybe more people should tell me to STFU, because I’m more likely to snap out of the crying zone & defend my choices.
So, while I’m forced to accept that Crazy crying MH is a facet of my personality, I don’t have to let her out. I need to stop worrying about whether or not everyone agrees & just do what I feel is right & if I’m wrong, then stand by my mistake. This way my friends won’t feel like they need to guard me like a baby chick & I can eventually bury Crazy crying MH until she comes out so rarely, it’s a shock when we see her.
Just a Step Away
Today on the way to church, my daughters made about a million wishes on dandelion fluff.
I remember as a child, I lived in a city and dandelions came few and far between, so when I saw one, I would race to it and make the most outlandish wish I could think of. I for a unicorn, to have magic powers, to become a princess, all sorts of silly things. I wanted to make that thing count.
My three year old hasn’t mastered the art of the “Don’t tell anyone or it won’t come true,” as she makes her wishes out loud. They’re all the same; “I wish the fluff would help Jesus find my best friend and bring her back to play with me forever.” My 6 year old wishes for more fluff, then screams “It came true!” like Anne Hathaway at the Oscars when she finds more fluff. My 11 year old still makes wishes and still treats them like they are sacred, not telling anyone and closing her eyes. I make wishes too, but as I’m allergic to pollen, knowing the little spores are going to become 900 more dandelions sucks some fun out of it.
I love that something so simple, like a wish on dandelion fluff can make them so happy. It’s fun, and sometimes I still make wishes. Of course, I’m old enough to know that the dandelion fluff won’t bring me a unicorn, but sometimes it’s fun to think there is some magical property in a little fluffy ball. I mentioned finding the simple joys in my last post, and a few months ago, I talked about the idea that adults should still believe in magic…just a little. While we all know that only hard work gets us where we need to be, it’s nice to think that perhaps that wish we make on a star (which I still do, me and my love of stars) will somehow get us over that last hurdle and put it all together.
So, let’s all slow down, stop the hussle and bussle of our every day lives and make a silly little wish on some dandelion fluff. Enjoy the day and the small joys that come with something that simple. You might find yourself forgetting about the lawn and smiling, remembering the small child that enjoyed doing this oh so long ago.
Steal My Sunshine
This is my ode to my one true love (that isn’t writing): the sun.
I love the sun! It’s so warm & happy & everything is better when it happens on a sunny day. My personal slice of Heaven is listening to my eclectic blend of music while walking in the happy sunny sun. However, I do not tan. My father’s death from melanoma requires me to be more sun conscious (also, the only thing paler than me is a corpse. I burn way too easily. The sun & I have a complex relationship).
But my joy whenever I see the sun reminds me that every day can be made exponentially better through simple pleasures. Mine is molten magma in the sky & the soothing vocals of David Cook & Matt Nathanson (today). I’m sure you have one too, whether its that glass of wine after a long day, watching puppies play, et al. I couldn’t imagine living a life where simple little joys couldn’t make me happy. Maybe I’m just easily amused.
However, everyone should find their small joy & enjoy it today. Revel in life’s smallest pleasures, for they’re so much easier to find & plentiful.
As for me, I’ll be enjoying the sunshine.
Let Her Go
I’m a firm believer that with great power comes great responsibility.
I personally don’t believe that celebs get to complain about the paparazzi hounding them, as they use the media to promote themselves, their careers, etc. so naturally there is a bad side with the good. However, there is a limit. I don’t feel celebrity children should be photographed, they did not choose that lifestyle. But there is also a limit to what should and should not be published, such as rumours that are vile, unfounded, etc.
This brings me to Beyoncé Knowles, who has recently been admitted to hospital for exhaustion amidst pregnancy rumours. People Magazine reported the story and the keyboard warriors came out in full force, slamming Knowles, her husband Jay-Z, her daughter Blue and questioned the validity of her first pregnancy, claiming she used a surrogate and she needed to provide evidence that she had given birth to satisfy them. Knowles has released photos of her pregnancy belly (I hate the term baby bump) in her documentary “Life is But a Dream” but people still claim that Knowles has not “proven” she was pregnant and that her baby daughter is ugly.
This makes me wonder how much free time we as a society have when we demand proof that a stranger gave birth to a child. Does it really matter how Blue came into the world? It could have been a surrogate, adoption, or Knowles gave birth to her, as she has said. That is Knowles and Jay-Z’s daughter and they love her. How she was born is irrelevant. Blue is also a 16 month old child and not famous. Her parents are famous entertainers, but she is a baby. Insulting her appearance, her temperament, etc. is just cruel. In this day and age, when adults tell children not to bully children, those same adults turn around and bully a 16 month child, as well as other celebrity children, including Shiloh Jolie-Pitt and Suri Cruise. These are small children and completely irrelevant to the lives of the people who harass them. Why such vitriol for small children, or even the celebrity parents?
I’m not a huge Beyoncé Knowles fan. I enjoy a few of her songs, but I’m not going to rush out to see her concerts or anything. However, I’m also not going to question whether or not she was really pregnant with her daughter, insult her baby’s appearance, or claim she’s part of the illuminati. I’m going to listen to the songs that I like. Perhaps we as a society should stop looking for reasons to tear down a happily married couple who are successful and just enjoy their bodies of work, not belittle their defenseless child or demand access to a woman’s private moments. After all, if someone had questioned whether or not I had given birth, I would punch you in the face. Kudos to Knowles for handling these rumours with class and grace.
What Makes You Beautiful
I’ve been reading a lot about the idea of fat shaming and makeup shaming, etc. and how these are supposed to help women lose weight, give up the mascara, etc.
My good friend the Psych Major and her husband are known for this. They don’t hold back and will tell people “You’re fat” when asked. This causes a bit of strife with my other friends, as they call them narcissistic and think that the only thing that matters is physical appearance. Having known the Psych Major for her entire adult life, nothing could be further from the truth. She’s a loving, kind, gentle and understanding person. She just also calls a spade a spade and isn’t going to sugar coat it to make you feel better. If you ask her, she’ll tell you that you’re overweight. She won’t call you a fatty and bully you, but she’ll give it to you straight. I’m overweight and I know this. This is why I’ve chosen to work with a dietician and start a diet and exercise program to help me get in shape, make better food choices, etc. I’m not doing it because I feel I need to lose weight to please the masses, I want to set a good example for my children. Personally, I think we should all stop making excuses and get up off of the couch and focus on our health (not so much the size on our pants), myself included, even if it’s just 10 minutes of walking and drinking more water. But do I think we need to shame people through bullying and name calling? Nope. Not all women are built to be thin. Some people are going to be curvy, some thin, and some women are going to be thrilled to death that they’ve reached their skinny size of 20. When I read that Abercrombie & Fitch doesn’t sell clothes in women’s L or XL sizes so overweight people couldn’t wear their gear, I was shocked. I also realized that as a thin teenager I could never have owned a shirt from there, as my DD cup chest has never fit in a shirt smaller than a large.
But I have noticed for years that it’s considered socially acceptable to shame women for wanting to look nice. I wear makeup. I don’t do pounds of foundation, or even lipstick, but I do play up my eyes a lot and my makeup collection is in a huge trunk. I do it for me, because I like to look nice when I go out in public. Much like food, presentation is important and I think there’s something to be said for a person who puts themselves together. I have my bummy days, but I like to look nice when I go out in public. However, I will constantly read people say things like “Oh, she’s obviously more comfortable with herself because she doesn’t wear makeup or worry about clothes, etc.” or I’ll see people lying about how they never wear makeup while watching them put on their mascara. It’s almost like it’s some sort of sin to wear makeup. Women appear damned if we do and damned if we don’t. If we don’t wear makeup, then we’re some kind of pinko-femminazi, but if we do wear it, clearly we have crippling low self esteem and need it to feel some kind of self-worth.
I don’t understand why women should feel ashamed for wanting to take care of themselves. I may pray to Bath and Body Works and the L’Oreal corporation and use various products to help keep my skin hydrated and my face looking fresh, but I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to keep myself looking and feeling good. Obviously it’s working, as I know people who are younger than me who have been called my mother. If you’re not a makeup person, that’s cool, stay true to who you are, but there is no reason to belittle the women who enjoy make up and pedicures either. We should do what we feel most comfortable with to feel good about ourselves, whether it’s sweats and a t-shirt or dressed to the nines. But much like shaming someone for their weight, we shouldn’t shame someone for wanting to look nice either.
Every woman is different. Their comfort level is different. Their style of dress and how they wear their hair is different. Let’s embrace these differences and enjoy them without bullying each other. Honesty and shaming are different. Telling a friend, “I wouldn’t personally wear that eye shadow” or “You’re overweight” is totally different from shaming someone into making a good food choice or for wearing lip gloss. Do what works for you and let them do what works for them.
Where We Land
Let me tell you about my friend the Texan.
I met her online on a Mommy message board and from the moment we started talking, I knew she was one of the most amazing people in the world. When I mentioned that my middle child was colicky and didn’t want to be put down, I was surprised with a Peanut Shell sling in the mail, for no other reason than I had a need and she wanted to fill it. I was blown away by her generosity. She showed me through this and our many conversations that she was the living embodiment of the true Christian; someone who loved her neighbour as herself and wanted to be a shining example of God’s love.
When my eldest daughter began her struggles, the Texan was the only person I spoke to. It was nothing against my other friends, but it’s hard to explain these issues when you’ve never lived through them. I’ve been a mom for almost 12 years and I still would never have been able to relate to a parent in this situation until I’ve been here myself. However, the Texan offered me constructive advice and is quick to check in with me on counselling days, which are particularly draining for my child and I. While I enjoy these days, as it helps me come up with an action plan to better meet my children’s needs, it’s still difficult to hear her sob for someone and something that she sees as so easy and she doesn’t understand why I won’t just reach out and make it happen. She likens what she wants to her favourite book romance (Stefan and Elena from the Vampire Diaries; I won’t let her watch the show. Too many hearts being ripped out), and that no matter how long the separations, the love doesn’t die and if I would just make a phone call, that person will show up @ the door & it can be worked out and she’ll get her real family. Of course, real life doesn’t work that way & her dream scenario of him coming back to be with us out of the blue is more of a fairy tale. Of course, that doesn’t stop her from believing every knock @ the door, every time the phone rings, this time it’s him. This time, he’ll be standing there saying he’ll be with us. But the Texan is the one who helps me understand that the guilt I feel is normal, that it’ll be okay and that my efforts to make things better (the counselling, the yoga, the journalling, extracurricular activities, etc.) are all effective strategies to improve things, help with the resentment she feels that I won’t make that phone call that she’s begged me to make for months, because I’m afraid & why don’t grown ups act brave for once, admit they’re wrong, that they love each other & be a family. That way she and her sisters don’t need to be sad anymore. The Texan doesn’t question my choice to fall on my sword as it were, letting her think it’s my refusal to reach out that keeps her from having the person she feels is the best person ever so she won’t feel rejected, because he promised her when he brought her a birthday gift that he’d never leave her ever again. The Texan understands it’s to protect my child…& preserve the memory of the person who was once the most important adult in the world to me (& my natural instinct to shoulder the blame for everything & believing that the people I care about are good. Protect and defend the ones I love, even @ the expense of myself. That’s the MH way). The Texan often mentions continued prayer to help me get through the rough parts by reminding me that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, and I’m so grateful for her guidance. She’s like the coolest older sister figure ever. She’s the one who suggested I blog about these struggles, so I wouldn’t feel so alone; that other parents feel this way sometimes too.
While sitting in church on Sunday, the Reverend mentioned a verse that hit home for me and really helped me gain perspective on a lot of things.
“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”
Whether you believe in a higher power or you don’t, one must remember that the world will not give us more than we can handle. While this may not always have been true, one thing I’ve tried to remind myself is that clearly God has a lot of faith in me as a person. After all, if God won’t give us more than we can handle, then clearly he trusts me to thrive in situations that most people would look at and want no part of. This is the lesson that my amazing friend reminds me of when I lose my way. So, I look at some of the things that I struggle with, from parenting to employment to friendships and some days, even my own sanity as opportunities to grow, to be challenged. Instead of begging God for help, I’m going to thank him for trusting me to tackle these things and rise to the occasion. So, thank you my friend, for being a wise older sister, fortune teller and all around amazing person during times of triumph and tribulations. Thanks for reminding me to welcome these things and be thankful for struggles, for they shape us and make us strong, make us hopeful. We should welcome the darkness because when it’s over, we’ll be more grateful for the gifts we are given. After all, darkness helps us build character. These trying times have helped me discover who I am standing on my own feet, not with anyone to “protect” me and I’m holding up okay. These times have helped shape my parenting style, helping me learn to keep a cool head, which has helped me during challenging times such as exams. There was no panic, simply rising to the occasion and my grades reflected my efforts. Darkness will help me appreciate things as they come, and I will see them as gifts and cherish them, and not wait for the shoe to drop. So, I’m thankful and grateful that the universe trusts me to hold up the world like Atlas, for it will make me a better person in the end.
I may not be the perfect mother or the perfect friend. I may not be a superhuman machine. But I am a mom, a friend, a journalist and a law clerk and a good person and that’s all I need to be, and I have an amazing role model to show me how to embrace those things.
You’re amazing Texan, and I love you.
The Misadventures of MHC 