Becoming Apparent

 

I have now been a mother for 34 days and have learned, or realized, so much. The first thing I’ve learned is that we are all simple creatures. My son is completely content when clean, fed, rested, kissed, hugged, and acknowledged. He knows what’s up. Often times we complicate everything and we really don’t need to. Do we have means to a clean ass? Are our stomachs full? Do our heads lie on a cozy pillow, and if we’re lucky, next to the love of our life each night? Are we loved and appreciated by those around us? I can answer “Yes” to all of these, which makes my life A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. (Throw in the fact I have a housecleaning service come in bi-weekly and it’s like I’m living a frickin’ fairytale.)

What Justin has reminded me is that when these basic needs are met, we have the ability to be at peace. Sure, shitty things happen, but that’s just a part of life. It’s no wonder, then, how soothing a good meal, a nap, an embrace, or a kind word can be. See? Simple.

It’s been no secret in my circle of friends and family that I have had, at times, crippling anxiety. I could trace it back to when I was much younger, but it really didn’t show up (read: diagnosed) until 2008. I had gotten married and watched my Nana die within a short few months of each other. Those two huge life events lead me on my path of self-discovery and Xanax. Since then, with the help of my amazing therapist (and wine), I have learned new ways to cope with my anxiety.

It really wasn’t until I got pregnant did I feel like I had a handle on my anxiety. I did not want that negativity and toxicity in my body. I basically made the decision not to be anxious. Sounds easy, right? Well, it was. I had all I needed: food, shelter, love. Anything more than that is a blessing and anything less than that will be dealt with when the problem presented itself. I didn’t have words for this until I had Justin. Is there a problem? Solve it. Is there not a problem? Don’t create one. I can’t imagine Justin lies awake at night worrying about his next explosive poop or if someone will have food for him when he wakes up. He lives in the moment and that is something to admire.

I titled this blog entry “Becoming Apparent” because it’s all so clear to me now (as clear as things can be in a sleep deprived haze). It’s a play on words. So clever, am I. I’ve become a parent and it’s apparent now how complicated I have made my life up until this point. Here I thought it was my job to teach Justin things, little did I know that I would be the student.

A Letter to Our Unborn Son

Dear Son,

                I just wanted to give you a heads up that you are going to hate your father and me at some point. And when that happens, I’m going to smile, because I will know we’re doing our job correctly. It is our job to be your parents, not your friend. We are going to set expectations for you. We will expect you to treat others with respect and dignity. We will expect you to follow rules. We will expect you to be honest and truthful. We will expect you to always try your best. We will expect you to be kind. If any of these expectations are not met, there will be consequences. I don’t know what those consequences are right now, but trust me, you will be upset and hate us. You will be upset, not at me, not at your father, but at yourself. Why will you be upset with yourself, you wonder? You will be upset with yourself because you will know you did not meet the expectations set out for you, when you know you are more than capable of doing so.

                This may seem harsh and you will undoubtedly hate us once you’re old enough to know what’s going on. It’s culturally acceptable right now for parents to turn a blind eye to and make excuses for the things their children do. It’s culturally acceptable for schools to do the same. It’s culturally acceptable to teach our youth that there are no consequences to their actions. It’s culturally acceptable to let our youth do and have whatever they want without earning it. Without even working for it. Sorry, Kid. This will not happen on our watch. I see what happens to children who are raised with no accountability or responsibility for their actions. You will not be one of these children. 

                I’d like to apologize in advance for the very hard lessons your father and I will instill in you. This is just one of the downfalls to having a therapist for a mom who studies human behavior for a living. I can’t imagine we’ll be popular parents and your peers may express pity on you. That’s ok. You know why that’s ok? Because when you are a respectful, kind, compassionate, hard-working, successful man, you will thank us. (And I will look at those parents who talked about us and whose children pitied you with the greatest “Who’s the Bad Parent Now!?” face I can muster up. Just kidding. Not really.)

                Your father and I love you so much already and only want the best for you. We want you to be happy, well-adjusted, grateful, loving, compassionate, and hard-working. These will come naturally to you as long as you meet, and possibly exceed, the expectations set for you – by us and yourself.  

With Unconditional Love,

Mom 

Appreciation

So, apparently, the expression of my appreciation of the phrase “Thank You” has turned me in into a person who requires acknowledgement and praise for what I do.

I feel as if we are living in a world of entitlement. As if we are owed something. As if we deserve something. As if our mere presence is reason enough for gifts, promotions, donations, etcetera, to just fall to our feet. Wrong. So, so, wrong.

We are here because someone has created us. We are here because someone has unselfishly stepped aside so we can have the best possible life. We are here because someone has given us words of encouragement. We are here because someone has shown us what not to do. We are here because someone has died for our sins (if you believe that sort of thing). We have accomplished what we have because someone has helped us along the way. Bottom line: We are here because of someone else.

I was heartbroken when my appreciation for appreciation was questioned and was saddened that I even needed to argue my stance.

For the record, I do not expect gratitude for all I do. However, when I donate my hard earned and (very, very) minimal money, I would hope to receive a “Thank You” from the friend or colleague raising that money. Without donations from your friends and peers, you would not have been able to reach your goal. Without a gift, your wedding/shower/birthday/Christmas lists would remain empty.

If someone does something nice for you, say “Thank You”. Just today, I watched Monday night’s episode of How I Met your Mother. Marshall was horrified to learn he had not sent a “Thank You” note to his friend, Ted. He said (and I’m paraphrasing here) that Thank You notes are extremely important to his family and they actually have a motto: (not paraphrased) “Lick it before your stick it”. As in, lick the stamp before you stick it in the mail. I wish more families had this motto.

If you truly feel you are where you are in this exact moment, with all you have accomplished because you have done so 100% on your own, then disregard this post. However, if you feel as if someone has helped you get to this moment, just show appreciation. Just say, “Thank You”. These two words are not said enough. If you feel gratitude for something, just say so. Just say, “Thank You”.

Thoughts in Traffic

This past week I was stuck in traffic on southbound 880 at about 6:30pm. Traffic is a rare occurrence for me. I live within 5 miles of both of my jobs. Two consecutive stop lights are the worst of my commute. Sad story, I know. My drive home started with waiting 10 minutes to get onto the freeway. However, Manic Monday came on and I started singing and dancing in my car. Traffic is fun! Thanks to The Bangles for getting this drive off to a good start! I hit the “Scan” button on the radio and stopped at songs that I could sing along to. I’m sure I looked like a crazy lady in my car, but it was actually a good time.

At one point, maybe at the 880/101 interchange, I began looking around at the drivers next me. I wondered what their day had been like. Did they have a good day? Did anyone get a raise? Did anyone get laid off? What were they going to do with the rest of their day? What were they having for dinner? What were they going home to? A loving pet? A sick family member? An abusive spouse? Some thoughts were depressing, I know. Although it got me to think about the home I was going to. I was going home to a loving and supportive husband. A husband who has proven countless times just how much he cares about me and wants nothing more than for me to be happy and successful. The worst thing I faced going home was dirty dishes and, perhaps, a dirtier floor.

This thought sparked something in me. How awesome would it be to document what people were thinking at any given moment? I mean, what were you doing at 6:30pm on Thursday, August 22? What were you thinking about? What were you happy, sad, angry, confused about? I would love to somehow collect all these thoughts. Not sure how it can happen. How do you gather genuine and authentic thoughts from people? My goal for this research experiment would be to gain perspective and an awareness of other people and the lives they live. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in our thoughts, feelings, and stuff. If we’re able to read other peoples’ stories, it would allow for us to take into account that other people have stuff, too. The world is so much bigger than me and you. My worries, my thoughts, my feelings, my dreams, my destination, my stuff are no more important than yours. And yours are no more important than mine.

My Grandmothers

The death of a grandparent SUCKS! I must believe that the harder it is to accept one’s death is a true testament to our love for said person. I have lost both my grandmothers. 

My Nana Mary was the best. She was the most nonjudgmental, unbiased, open-minded, and accepting person I could ever meet. She was classy. I mean, she had true class. She could walk into a room and all heads would turn. Her scent. Her style. Her eyes. Her smile. She was a true woman. Her eyes hid all her struggles. Or did they expose them? Did her eyes show all that she had been through and yet, somehow, show the world that all would be okay? I learned a lot from that woman. I learned that no matter the trials and tribulations we go through , we go through them – meaning, we SURVIVE them. Should we survive the moments we believe are our last; the moments we feel we cannot go any farther yet, miraculously, we do – we did it! WE SURVIVED! My Nana Mary taught me not to forget those moments, but cherish them, for these are the moments that push us forward. These are the moments that motivate us to be better, stronger, more loving people. Without these moments we are lost. We are empty. We are self-absorbed, narcissistic shells of a human being. There is a much greater purpose out there for us and that purpose is to be there for others.

My Nana Trudy was equally as special to me. She had 16 grandchildren yet, whenever I called or visited, it was like I was her only one. I remember my last words to her: “See you in July!” I was being a smart ass (shocking – I know). I saw her on Easter and she asked me to stop by sometime because she loved my visits. I told her I would and that I loved her. She understood how busy I was. I was working three jobs at the time. Knowing my schedule would by settling down soon, I jokingly said “see you in July” because I couldn’t fathom taking time to drive ten minutes to see her. Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that July would never come. How could I put work before my grandmother? How could I justify not taking any time out to see her? I wish I could remember the last time I spent any quality alone time with her. I believe I do – but that was well over a year ago and that would just be too hard to admit.

I hope I am to my grandchildren what these women were to me. I am who I am because they were in my life. I pray every day that they are looking down on me and watching over me. I pray they know how much I love them and miss them. I pray they do not hold any resentment towards me for not spending as much time with them as I should or could have. I pray they will be by my side for the rest of my Earthly life until we meet again. And lastly, I pray they are saying “stop crying, you fool! We know you love us. Stop wasting time and catch up on your Real Housewives!! We’re having way too much fun up here to feel sorry for you!”

Grief

We all experience grief in our own way. Others may not understand the way I do it, but I don’t necessarily understand how others grieve, either. I prefer to be sad and to make as many jokes as possible. I’m not quite as bad as Chandler on Friends. I’m not that inappropriate or awkward, but I do try to find humor wherever I can. I’m Irish – I can’t help it.

This morning, my family learned of the death of my grandmother. I had been preparing myself for this. I have already lost a grandmother, I can do this again. I was wrong. I walked into my Nana Trudy’s house this morning, expecting to be able to say my final goodbyes, but learned I was an hour late.

Depending on which “Stages of Grief” model you follow, guilt is a stage. I felt extreme guilt today. Guilty for not spending as much time with my Nana as I should have, even when she asked me point-blank to come visit. Guilty for not going over last night when I felt I should have. Guilty for telling my cousin not to go over last night and to wait to go this morning. Guilty for having my aunt console me after she just lost her mother. Guilt is a horrible thing. But guilt is also a chance to do better next time.

With every guilty feeling, we gain the opportunity to do better. We do not feel guilt without knowing that we should or could have done better or differently. We must not ignore feelings of guilt because it is a reminder that change can be made. Although guilt can be crippling if held onto, we must be able to let go of that guilt but not of the lesson it taught us, for all things that occur, cannot be undone.

It’s funny. We aim to live our lives as if each day could be our last. I think our new aim should be to live our lives as if it is someone else’s last day. If you love someone, tell them. If you miss them, visit them. If you are thinking about them, call them. 

Remembering What Matters

Each of us at some point has been forced to look at our lives and reevaluate what matters and what does not. What does matter? A nice car? An updated home? A well-funded 401(k)? Religion? Relationships?

Recently, I have really looked at my life and figured out what matters and what does not. I have a very stressful work load. I currently work three jobs over six days a week and try to sneak in some volunteer work when I can. Just this week I came home after a long day of work and was exhausted. My husband was sitting on the couch. I put my purse down and sat next to him to give him a quick kiss. He then started to lie down to put his head on my lap. I stood up, put my hand up and said, “I can’t do this right now. Can I please have a minute?” I mean, this is my husband and I’m brushing him off? Something is wrong here.

While having my minute, I instantly felt remorseful. How can I give to so many people then neglect those I love most? For example, my brother has been home from college for four days and just today did I reach out to him to schedule a dinner. My friends reach out to me and I can’t see them because I’m either working or recovering from working. My house is a mess. The fridge is empty. What kind of life is this?

I was out of work for a long time. I felt so much guilt during that time while my husband woke up each morning to provide for the fabulous life we have. Now, in my working so much, I felt that I was making up for lost time. I need to work a ton to rebuild our savings and start to contribute financially to our household (and, quite honestly, get my nails done and not feel badly about it).

Now, constantly fatigued and neglecting those closest to me, I’m wondering if it’s all worth it. Getting to do what I love every day is definitely worth-while; however, I love nothing more than my family. Where is the balance? Why work so hard if, at the end of the day, I don’t have the energy to spend time with those I love more than anything in this world?

Learning to say “no” without an excuse is something I’m aspiring to do. As women, we feel the need to people-please. I want to learn how to please only those that I love and love me. I need to learn how to set boundaries for myself. I need to learn to say, “Thank you, but I cannot do that right now” – and leave it at that.

My family is my first priority. Everything else comes second. As I move forward in life and my career, I need to keep this in mind. What’s the point in having a thick retirement account, fast car, and granite countertops if I don’t have my family with me?