It’s the Royal Wedding edition of Fledgling Friday! Okay, so I’m not a superfan, but we are PVRing all 19 hours of it (or however long it all goes on for). I hope all you new bloggers will be able to find time to link up this week in between sips of tea at your 4 am party or tomorrow after you nap off the royalty hangover.
Archives for April 2011
Helping Me Find My Inner “Good Mom”
April 28, 2011 by ·
“Write about a woman who helped you,” was the request, but who among the countless options to choose? I could write about my mother, who probably tops that list. But I did that recently. I could write about my sisters, but I can’t yet adequately articulate the gratitude I feel for what they’ve done for me. So I’m going to write about someone else – someone who helped me just this morning, in fact.
Yael Saar has actually been helping me in the virtual world for a while and then she offered to speak on the phone, which we did this morning. She gave me a welcome push toward addressing the one issue in my PPD battle I have felt I can’t solve.
I struggle with my son, who’s quite spirited (as I’ve noted). I appreciate this spirit but it triggers me, pushing me over the edge into reactions I can’t control. A lot of his behaviour is normal – throwing food, flinging his toothbrush across the room, refusing to stay in bed, hitting when he gets worked up – but he does it with a special enthusiasm.
My reaction to this has been to try to control it. You don’t want to brush your teeth? Fine, I’ll hold you down and do it for you. You don’t want me to put these clothes on you? Then we’re not going to the play date.
Not surprisingly, it’s not working. And more, it’s prolonging this battle and making it harder to fight. My biggest fear is that the ultimate ending to this saga is going to be me saying, “I love you, but I can’t live with you.”
Yael’s suggestions were a lightning bolt, shocking my brain into functioning properly. She encouraged me to think about command vs. respect, independence instead of forcing my way, and to try to understand what causes his rebellion to find ways to avoid the things that trigger him.
This perspective was a gift – perfectly timed to pull me a little further away from the hole of hopelessness. The next step is up to me, but I will be forever grateful to Yael for pointing me in the right direction.
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On Motherhood and Losing Yourself
April 27, 2011 by ·
Losing a piece of yourself seems to be part of becoming a mother, almost like a rite of passage. The problem is, following a rite of passage people often expect you to be wiser and acknowledge your readiness for your new role. You’re given access to knowledge or tools you didn’t have before.
When you become a mother, all you get is coupons for diapers, a free can of formula (whether you intend to formula feed or not), and unsolicited advice from people who are a generation or two out of touch. You might get a bunch of pamphlets pointing you to local resources and telling you things like how to bond with your baby and when you can expect certain milestones to happen.
What they don’t tell you is that feeling like you have NO IDEA what you’re doing is normal. Or that the sleep deprivation might feel like it’s going to kill you, but it probably won’t and will (eventually) end. Or that if you don’t feel overwhelmed with love for your baby, that’s okay too, and if it lasts for a while and you really feel like you can’t cope you might want to ask for some help.
As a matter of fact, none of the pamphlets I skimmed through or the books I read or the prenatal classes I attended told it like it really is. Which is:
You will lose a part of yourself when you become a mother.
You probably won’t be able to do all the things you’re used to doing, at least not at first, and your husband or partner shouldn’t expect to either.
You will likely be transformed by this experience in ways you could never imagine and no one could ever accurately describe to you.
Some of those changes will be great. Wonderful. Magical, even. Some might make you feel like you’ve figured out the meaning of life, even if it’s 3 a.m.
And some of those changes will be hard. Really hard. It doesn’t matter if you’re a cashier or a cook or a CEO, being a mother will be the hardest job you’ve ever had.
That was certainly the case for me. I knew it would be hard, but I had no idea just how hard it would be. Some of the changes were absolutely not okay with me but it’s difficult, I discovered, to convince a newborn who won’t sleep to see reason.
I realize it’s not this hard for everyone. For me, postpartum depression (unrecognized and undiagnosed for 18 months) made it almost impossibly hard. I absolutely lost myself and have battled for almost three years to find myself again. It turns out the person I was is not coming back, and I’m finally learning to be okay with that. To embrace it, even.
When I started blogging and was trying to choose a name for my blog, I wanted to acknowledge that the crazy, raging, anxiety-ridden person I had become after having a baby was not who I wanted to be. That person was a stranger to me, and to my husband, who took the brunt of a lot of my exhaustion and anger. That stranger was a big part of me for a while, and will always be a part of who I’ve become. But it’s time to say farewell.
As she slowly ceases to be part of who I am, I watch her go. I send her acceptance and gratitude, both for what she’s taught me and for retreating when asked, but I don’t wish to see her again. I’m ready to accept what I’ve lost and embrace what I’ve gained instead.
Farewell, stranger. I wish you well.
Good Enough Is the New Perfect
April 27, 2011 by ·
Just a quick post to let you know that I have a short piece up at The New Perfect.
“Good enough is the new perfect” is a concept I’ve been trying to embrace. Since, you know, up until I had a baby I was perfect (of course) but then suddenly I wasn’t and that doesn’t feel so good.
Maybe I should get a Good Enough tattoo. On my forehead, because clearly I need to be reminded of this every time I look in the mirror.
Anyway…
Please hop over and visit me there. And while you’re there, why don’t you share your story of how you’re good enough?
A Slogan for Depression
April 26, 2011 by ·
*Disclaimer: This is meant to be lighthearted and to challenge some of my own thoughts about what depression means in my life. Not meant to offend 
My mom sent me a link to a site that creates slogans. You’ve probably seen these – people use slogans as signatures on message boards (as in “Everything’s better with Kelly.”) I figured, what the hell, may as well play around with it. See what slogans it suggests for depression. Here’s some of what it came up with, and my editorial comments.
Yes, I believe we’ve been introduced.
My depression is 3 years old. How old is yours?
Right now, yes, but you’re the crazy one if you think I’m going to adopt this as my slogan.
With what? A scalpel? I’d certainly be willing to give it a shot.
I don’t but I certainly would.
Rules as in takes over? Yes. Rules as in “Depression Rocks!”? Not so much.
It certainly feels like that some days, but I bloody hope that’s not true.
Too late. I think my four different types of medication would be considered “messing with depression.”
If she really wants it, I’d be willing to sell her mine. She certainly has the money.
Um, it’s not contagious. At least I don’t think it is…
This has to be a typo. It should say, “Depression is better with chocolate.”
Is that supposed to be the title of the movie about my life? Because I want it to be called something different.
I suppose this could be interpreted a number of ways, but in general highly insensitive given recent events.
That’s better.
Now you’re talking. I have a dream team. And a ringer on the bench. And fans on the sidelines. And one very enthusiastic cheerleader.
With all that, who needs a slogan?
Image courtesy dreamstime (appropriate, don't you think?)
