Time Flies

"But I Just Got Here!"

I just got here!

In another lifetime but really only ten minutes ago, I was in grade school thinking bullying would never end. (Spoiler: It didn’t. I just got better at hiding from it). A few days ago, I got married to my first husband, but wait, that was in 1978. My parents died just last week… no, that was in 1986 and 2003… and 2003 was twenty-two years ago. Whaaat?

A woman wrote to me this week at a loss for how she could be more joyful and gracious in her life as a mother. Boy, did that ever strike a chord. Here is what I wrote to her:

As you pointed out, I have six kids. They were in two generations, so I had toddlers when I was a teenager and I had toddlers when I had teenagers. My kids were born in 78, 80, 82, 92, 97, and 99. I worked away from home for the first three and then when Delena, my daughter, had just turned five, I became a full-time stay-at-home mom. Eric (husband #2) and I decided to basically live in poverty so I could be home with the kids and they would not have to go to babysitters. Neither of us had family nearby except for my older kids and so there was nowhere for them to go other than taking a chance on strangers.

I do not regret that decision for a minute and I am thrilled to have the experiences of being a working mom and being a stay-at-home mom. To be clear, both situations were absolutely horrible and both were wonderful. When I was in either of those situations, I passionately longed for the other one. When I look back on my mothering now, I was a good mother to the last three, but not the best I could have been if I had known then what I know now. I was not a good mom to the first three, not because of lack of knowledge, but because I was so very young and because I was married to someone who was not plugged into the family at all, which caused me to also disconnect and the kids to basically be adrift. I would give anything to go back and change that.

I am one of those predictable older people who says, "It all went so fast." Suddenly, it was gone and I miss some parts of it very much. I don't miss it enough to want to relive it, other than to correct some glaring and obvious missteps that are clear in retrospect. I remember being so tired. I wore exhaustion like a lead cloak all the time. I had no room ever to feel successful. It was like sweeping a dirt floor where all I could see was an increasing pile of failures. Nothing I ever did was right and if I was doing something right with one kid, another was suffering in some way. With my first three, we were a military family, so we were moving every few years and the stress of military life, even pre-Gulf war, was extreme. With my second three, we were only a military family for 4 years, then we lived in such poverty that the stress was nearly unbearable. I never got to have a relaxing, enjoying parenting experience and I'm sure some people do, but that certainly wasn't me.

Throughout my parenting, I had no idea who I was or what I wanted or needed. There simply was not enough time to figure that out. No one looked for or attended to my needs. My husbands tried now and then but they were so busy trying to deal with their own broken edges and make a living, that I was number 14 or so on their to-do lists. There was no support anywhere, anytime.

What I needed more than anything was to be seen. I felt like a utility that only served to meet the needs of other people. I do wish I could go back and pull myself aside and let me have a good cry while holding me and just holding space for me to feel something. I wish I could tell myself to dig deeper and find more compassion and to not try so hard to do the right thing according to what other people thought and to find my own parenting compass. I wish I could hold my kids tight and tell them how important they are and that I see them and I know it's hard for them too. If I could have stopped feeling so hurt and used and tired all of the time, their experiences growing up would have been so different and likely, mine as a mother would feel quite different as well.

That is my situation and I don't presume that it is yours. Each person has their own engagement with mothering and providing.

I wish I could say there is a candle I could burn for you that would help how you are feeling. CTFO is a helpful candle. So is Grounding and Shielding. Mostly, it is essential that you find time, even 15 minutes a day, where you let it all go and do something pleasurable. It could be sitting alone and breathing, even in the shower with the door locked, sitting on the floor and letting the water run over you, taking the tension and frustration and fear away down the drain. Walking outside to ground yourself. Eating a food you love and not sharing it with anyone. Reading even one chapter of a good book. Find yourself away from mothering and put your anchor into it. This is one part of your life and it's unlikely you're like me and protracted that experience over four decades like I did. (To add to it, I also took care of my father and younger brothers for 6 years before I left home at 16 and basically ran my mother's house. I was shown early on that my own worth was in serving others and I am still working on deprogramming that idea).

Like a kidney stone, this too shall pass and for years to come, you will be glad it is over and then after a while, you will occasionally find yourself missing it. That doesn't change how hard it is right now, but it helps to stay rooted in the moment, this moment, as often as you can. Be very present for this experience and as much as you want to do so, don't disengage and sleepwalk your way through it. Have boundaries and stick to them. Be present for them but also be present for yourself when you are taking your time alone. Try not to catastrophize or over-inflate problems and challenges. Try not to think of your life in absolutes "It's ALWAYS like this" or "You NEVER do this." Your words are powerful in the formation of your life experience. Remember that not only are a lot of people around you going through their own challenges, but many of them are idiots. Never define yourself by what someone else says about you, but also, know yourself intimately. That will give you something to stand up for when life tries to knock you down.

Kids are hard. It's the hardest thing we ever do and has the most critical of outcomes. We are putting new people out into the world and if we are lucky, we don't end up picking them up at the county jail or in a hospital. You will get through this and so will they. You will be even more than okay. Just keep breathing and just keep being. Remember that you are a human being... not just a human doing.

I am grateful that now my kids are good people and I am close with four of them. They are among the greatest gifts life has given me, but that doesn’t mean it was not brutal raising youngers. In some ways, it is harder now with them out there in the world making their own (sometimes dumb) choices and being in situations where I cannot look out for them.

A long-time friend of mine today marveled that Dylan’s birthday is coming up and he is turning 28. It doesn’t seem possible. I remember his birth like it was last week.

Eric and I have been together for 29 years and that hardly seems possible. I remember so well living with my first husband, both of us immersed in our own core wounds and constantly banging into each other’s life bruises. Each of us trying to be a good human and finding that just too hard with the traumas we had experienced individually and together.

John said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” You long for something different, strive for a new life, and cry because you can see that greener grass and just can’t get there. While you are working hard to get through this challenge that is life, the clock ticks down and before you know it, you missed it.

I know all of you know this, but I cannot stress how vital it is that we live in the moment, fully engaged in the present. The past is over and we can’t get it back. I can’t go back and fix all the things I broke. I can’t go back and reclaim what I lost. I also cannot punish myself for the rest of what life I have left for the mistakes I made. I cannot spend another moment craving something in the future that I do not have. I am devoted to being right here, in this moment, today, and savoring all I can. The problem is that even when I am right here, the day passes in the blink of an eye. A year is gone before I know it.

Life is so precious. I wasted most of it being distracted by wanting something different. I am at that point in life where, more than ever, you just don’t know how much time you have left or what your quality of life will be in that time you do have left.

It flies by so quickly… unless I’m in the dentist chair, then it drags on forever.

Stop and smell those roses, baby because before you know it, the roses are on your grave.

(That was pretty grim, wasn’t it?) I am not nearly as morose as this post makes me sound. More…thoughtful and contemplative.

Love to you all.

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