If The Dress Fits...

On my last visit to Canada I found myself going through the closest of the room I was staying in at my parents house. A room that all of us had as our own bedroom at one point or another. In it was stored old dresses from weddings and the like. I also found the dress I wore to my year 10 formal.

Looking at this dress this past August, holding it in front of me, it'd be nice to say that I remembered how fun the formal was or how good the food was, or something stupid so and so did that I'll always remember. But I can't. The only thing I can remember is how self conscious I was. I HATED shopping for myself, for a few reasons, but mostly because I really did not enjoy looking in the mirror at myself when trying on clothes. I did find a dress that fit, looked good on me, and was on sale. I remember posing for photos in this dress before heading to the formal and positioning myself to look as thin as possible, and hide my arms that I hated (I was petrified at wearing a dress with no sleeves) and stick my chin out just so, to minimise how huge it was. And I remember spending most of the evening trying to blend in, not stand out, so maybe that cute guy over there didn't notice how ugly and fat this girl was, and who did she think she was wearing a dress like that. 

Holding up this dress in front of me this past August, showing it to my sister who I shared a room with during our visit, I stood dumbfounded at how stinking tiny it was! I don't mean revealing...I mean, now it would only fit one leg! It's crazy to think how self conscious I felt (brought on totally by myself, as I had really loving and supportive family and friends) despite how damn good I actually looked! I'm also disappointed in myself that for a night that should hold some really awesome memories, all I can recall is how uncomfortable and ugly I felt in my own skin, pretending that I felt okay and hoping no one noticed. 

I have been plagued with feelings of hate for myself for as long as I can remember. It's true you know, you are your own worst enemy. The things I thought about myself, and still do, is far worse then what anyone else could say to me. No one holds me back or gets in my way quite like I do.I spent hours as a teenager staring in the mirror practicing ways of standing to minimise the areas I hated (and therefore everyone else must not like about me as well), finding clothes that covered up my cubby areas, and practicing ways of putting on makeup that made me feel beautiful.  I have also had to work hard most of my life to stay fit and healthy, although not always through the best means. 

I did adopt a style that I loved and was all my own, around year 8 I think. I fell in love with bell bottoms and tye dye, and filled my entire wardrobe with things that were bright, colourful and clashing, and I haven't looked back. I had tried the avenue of blending in and not getting noticed, which made me anything but happy. I remember exactly where I was sitting with my friends in middle school when one of the girls said "why do you wear the same pony tail in your hair every single day?" Seriously, since that moment, I have not stopped trying to find creative and different ways to do my hair. I think I realised I didn't want to be the same and boring, and I'd try the bright and colourful to hide my insecurities instead. 

I am still incredibly thankful for the amazing friends I made in high school, several of whom I'm still good friends with, for how they pushed me and challenged me, and stood by me even when I wouldn't stand by myself. I definitely wouldn't have ever thought myself fit or sporty enough to try out for any teams, never mind actually help start up a girls La Crosse team. I was so self conscious in gym class, that I couldn't run around the track without one hand holding out my shirt because I didn't want any passerby watching any of my bits wobble around. 

I had convinced myself that I was far too unfit to be able to achieve anything in sport or fitness (sigh, you silly silly teenager) but held to the encouragement my good friend Jenn gave me that fitness is not what you see on the outside, and shape and size has nothing to do with what your capable of and how fit you are. It was over 15 years ago that she forced those words on a reluctant me who was petrified of playing organised sport, but it's words that I now hold close as I aim to reach new goals as an adult and have since smashed out three 10k runs (well, jogs), which the teenager me would never had believed possible. 

In August I stood staring at a dress that I had convinced myself at the age of 15 that I looked terrible in and shouldn't be wearing. I think the hardest time to love yourself is when you're a teenager, but sometimes it's difficult to outgrow. We discover new things as an adult that continue to make us vulnerable and doubt our self worth. We end up in relationships that hurt us; we struggle to find study or work that makes us feel valued and fulfilled; we become parents and realise we are treading into unknown and frightening territory and that it's far too late to turn back now. We continue to be our own worst enemy.

So, when will it stop? At what age will we finally say, enough is enough? I want to love life, I want to love myself, I want to be able to love others, and I want to be happy? When will we stop tearing one another down (other women, other parents, our coworkers, celebrities, those who are different from us) because we're actually just full of hurt, fear and self doubt and it's the easiest way to try to feel better?

Well, I've been working on that this past year. 2016 was a year for me to work on loving myself, loving God and his creations (including myself), loving my family, and loving those around me. I've started to follow more positive and encouraging pages and people on Facebook and unfriend or unfollow those that aren't (I may follow a LOT more celebrities on Facebook then actual people I know...); I've been reading more books that inspire challenge and encourage who I am; I discovered Constance Hall and that's brought me a lot of courage and validation in celebrating my queenliness; I've worked on spending more time with healthy people who bring and add something to my life; I've discovered an amazing gym that I love spending time at and have put time and money into utilising it as a place to make me physically, emotionally and mentally more fit; and I've worked on trying to figure out what will make me and my family happy.

The journey isn't done yet, but right now I feel a lot more like myself then I have in a long time. Able to shred away from guilt that I don't need to carry, feel brave about voicing my opinion and not being afraid to say things like "yes, I am a feminist, and that's not a dirty word", feel confident in who I am as a parent, and feel the freedom to express myself and who I am without worrying what others are going to think. I wish I felt half this confident 20 years ago, and hadn't wasted so much time and energy on trying to please others or defending who I am.

So, dear 15 year old insecure terrified and BEAUTIFUL me... take a deep breath, ignore the haters, and wear the hell out of that dress.

The Slow Zoo Visit

I went to the zoo this week with my kid. It's one of his favourite places to go, and it's been ages since we've visited. The day was cold and wet, but I decided we'd rug up and make the trip anyways. 

It didn't occur to me until after we started our visit that we've never actually gone before with just the two of us. We usually go with friends or family, and have only ever gone for a couple hours at a time. Well, it was just the two of us, and we had the whole day ahead of us with no other plans. I could let my two year old take his time and wander around at his own pace, and spend the day following his lead. After reading an article recently about "slow parenting" I thought that this was the perfect time to put it into practise. 

Even though I knew we had no where to be and could take our time, I still had to stop myself from saying "come on!" or "let's go!" every few minutes when I was ready to move on or thought we should go a bit quicker. It's just so hard to slow down the adult brain to that of a toddler's pace. 

We got to the under water exhibit and watched the seals for a while. There's not a whole lot more to do there and we usually move through it quite quickly. After walking by the few aquariums heading towards the exit, Lincoln stopped at the last one that was at his eye level and contained one fish. He started talking to it, following it with his finger as it swam back and forth. After a few minutes I asked if he was done, and he said no. So I waited a few more and asked again...still no. Reminding myself that I was trying to be intentional about making the day go at his pace, I gave up "waiting" and sat down on the ground next to where Lincoln was still talking away to the fish, pulled out our lunch, and just enjoyed the experience with him. He must have noticed the change because after a minute or two he jumped into my lap and continued to babble on and pointing to the fish, wanting me to take in all in with him. We probably stayed there for about half an hour just watching this one fish swim back and forth in the tank. But just letting myself get immersed in the experience my toddler was having and waiting until he told me he was "all done" made it a real highlight of my day. 

Throughout the rest of the day I was really aware of when to just let him linger and in doing so our trip involved a very long time yelling "turtle!!" at a lot of tortoises, a great deal of puddle jumping, standing and talking to monkeys, reading books and playing with toys in the kids indoor area, and very very slowly eating a giant sausage roll while yelling at birds who tried to steal it. It was probably the best day at the zoo I've ever had. 

It doesn't always work to let your toddler move at their own pace, because life is busy and fast and full of things that we need to get to. But it's definitely worth looking for and making opportunities where you can just slow down, let them take the lead, and realize that life is a bit more fun and full of things to be enjoyed if we just slow down long enough for them. Lincoln isn't always going to have such little legs that take ages to get anywhere,  enjoy standing and staring at a single fish in a tank for a crazy long time, or notice every puddle along the path. Knowing that, I think I'd much rather spend the time while he's still this little meeting him in his world, instead of trying to make him fit into mine. 

My Team Mate

I was reminded recently about the first conversation my husband and I ever had. It happened about 12 years ago in Toronto, and I honestly still remember every detail about it. Where we were, how I was standing, how fast my heart was beating, what he looked like, what we said, and most importantly...what he was wearing. Because the entire conversation was about what he was wearing. Matt was wearing a Homestar Runner hoodie (side note - if you don't know who Homestar Runner is, please go and google it and spend the next hour or several immersing yourself in the comedy gold that is Homestar. Thank me later.) and I worked up the nerve to comment to him that I too was a fan and had my own hoodie. The rest, as they say, is history. (And for the record, he still has the hoodie).

Matt and I have been through a lot together over the past 12 years, the last 5 and a bit of which we've been married for, and the last 2 we've been parents. It certainly hasn't been boring, although it hasn't all been fun. One thing that has remained constant however is that my life is better with him in it. I am better with him doing life with me and together, as a team, we can tackle life heaps better then we ever could alone.

I've told the story plenty of times how on our wedding night I gave Matt a stack of letters that I had written to him years before I had ever met him. Some were silly ramblings of an immature and naive teenager, while others contained prayers and hopes for the husband I had yet to meet. I didn't know exactly how that moment would play out when these letters I had been holding on to for 10 years were finally placed in my brand new husbands hand, and I was honestly feeling quite embarrassed and nervous to give him such an open view to my inner thoughts and feelings from before I knew him. But he received them with silent awe as I explained what they were, and then proceeded to read through them one by one with tears in his eyes. He stopped every now and then as he corresponded the dates the letters were written to what he was going through at the time I had written it and we were both blown away by how prayers were written in times that he needed them most.

It's always good to remember where you've come from so that you can learn from past experiences, but also so that you can have a better idea of how to handle what has yet to come. When I look back what I know is that Matt is my best friend, and the best team mate I could ever ask for. Life is heaps more fun, interesting, bearable, exciting and possible because I have him by my side. I am blessed to know him, blessed to call him my husband, and blessed to have him as the father of my child.

Dear Teenager...

Dear Teenager;

If you read nothing else in this blog, read this. You are winning at this. Being a teenager is hard, for a ridiculous amount of reasons, and it's a war zone out there...but you're winning and you've got this.

Being a teenager is hard. I get it. I know EXACTLY what it's like when you sit alone in your room, blaring music that is full of the feels, tears streaming down your face as your heart is literally overflowing with emotions you can't explain or understand, and feeling like no one gets it. No one could possibly get what it feels like to be me right now. No one could possibly understand who I am.

I know what it's like to go to war with the mirror every day as you look at your reflection and shake your head at what you see looking back at you, and spend hours upon hours trying to figure out the best way to cover the parts of you you don't want anyone to notice.

I know what it's like to walk out into the world hoping that no one notices the hundreds of flaws you think you have, and what it's like when a bully puts your under their gaze and delivers insults that stab you to the heart that you then carry for far longer then you should.

I know what it's like when you feel hollow, empty, and dead inside and you consider some not so good ideas to help you feel something, anything, in a way that you can actually control.

I know what it's like to feel like there's nowhere you belong, and spending more energy then you've got on trying to fit in or make sure your friends continue to like you.

All adults were teenagers once...many have just forgotten what it was like because of the years that have passed, or maybe they've just repressed the memories because it was all just too hard.

Being a teenager IS hard. It may be the most challenging years of your life. For that reason, I want to say to all teens out there...you are amazing. You are a warrior for every day that you conquer.  The things you feel and experience and journey through as a teenager DO matter because they are part of who you are and the road that you're on. Never feel that you're stupid for thinking or feeling any of it. It's all important. It's all you.

Please know that you are not alone, you're never alone, although sometimes letting yourself believe that you are feels so much easier then letting others in who do in fact love and care for you. It just takes a second though to take a breath, open your eyes a little bit wider, and have a look to see who is there, stretching out a hand or offering a strong shoulder to lean on. Don't walk the journey alone, it's so much more fun to walk along side others.

Please know it's not the amount of friends you have that matters (FYI that number next to "Friends" on Facebook does not mean anything of importance...at all) but the quality of the friends thats important. Find one person who will fight along side you, and for you (and sometimes, with you) because two is stronger then one. The quality of the people in my life as a teenager is the one reason I survived it (thank you to those high school mates who are still journeying life with me!).

Please know that high school will end, and you will all go on with the rest of your life, and it won't take long for you to realise that some things really weren't that big a deal and took up way too much of your time and energy. High school is just a season that will end, but try to find ways to make it as fun and worthwhile as possible until it does.

Please know that one day you probably will look back on your life as a teen and wish that you took more time to appreciate it all before "being an adult" took you over. For this reason try to not wish the time away but find a way to actually enjoy the time that you've got by kicking out people and things that make you feel crap and finding the stuff that makes life worth living.

Please know that bullies are stupid, and probably have more crap going on in their lives then yours, and for that reason you should just pity them, ignore them, and move on with your day. Also, don't be afraid to ask for help in standing up to a bully, or finding someone to talk to if you've been hurt. And if you're the bully...just stop it. You will get no where good in life and you should probably find someone to talk to about why it is you take pleasure in hurting others.

Dear teenager....you've got this. You're winning, and you're not alone.

x

Simple.

Yesterday a 10 year old, who happens to be one of Lincoln’s favourite people, picked him up from behind to give him a cuddle which resulted in him being frustrated and cracking it. I saw it happen, and called the 10 year old aside and said “I don’t mind if you pick up Lincoln, but make sure you look at him in the face and ask him if you can first.” Hoping I hadn’t offended her she simply responded with “Oh! Can he say yes and no now?” To which I replied with yup he can, and he can also say “up” when he wants someone to pick him up. This ended our conversation and she happily ran along. A few minutes later I saw her holding Lincoln and she beamed at me and said “he asked me to pick him up!!” This made my heart smile. I had been afraid of asking her to respect Lincoln’s wishes, but she understood immediately why I had asked and within minutes Lincoln demonstrated to her that he did in fact love her by asking for her to pick him up. Simple.

The request I made of that 10 year old yesterday I have played over and over in my brain for months now as I kick myself every time I don’t have the guts to say to an adult, “could you please ask him before you pick him up, and if he says no, please respect his wishes”. I’m constantly worried about offending someone and that I’m going to be judged as overprotective or malicious instead of it simply being that I’m just being a good mum and giving my son the rights that he deserves. I think though that yesterday’s conversation has given me a bit of strength and clarity about it all. If a 10 year old can get that someone smaller then her has the right to say when he does or doesn’t want to be touched, then SURELY adults can grasp that concept too?

This morning when I was saying goodbye to my kid as I headed off for work, I said “could I have a kiss?” to which he immediately shook his head, and literally pushed me out the door as he was eager to do his new favourite of blowing me a kiss goodbye, waving, and slamming the door closed behind me. Of course I was a little shattered, but I had to laugh at his determination to follow through on a routine we’ve been teaching him (and be thankful he doesn’t have a meltdown every time I walk out the door anymore) and be glad that he knows how to express what he wants. If he’s allowed to say no to me, his mum (and have his “no” respected), about kisses and cuddles how much more should he be allowed to say it to other’s in his life?

I am actively working on the anxiety I feel constantly and daily that I am an over protective crazy mother who see’s evil in everyone and is making decisions for all the wrong reasons. The truth is, I am logical and rational and am making good and healthy choices to help give my kid a voice and the strength to stand up for himself....and I am repeating that sentence to myself over and over and over again until I believe it.

I will always step in to protect Lincoln from himself and those around him, and that includes making choices for him that put up safe boundaries and help guide him as he grows because that’s my job as his parent. But that does not mean I have to ignore his voice or squash his right to voice his opinion and choices.

Children don’t exist to make adult’s lives better. Oh, that’s definitely a wonderfully amazing bi-product of having kids in our lives, but their reason for living isn’t to make us feel better about ourselves (don’t hate me for saying it...just take a minute to let it sink in and you’ll know I am right). Realizing this, that in fact they have the right to just exist and enjoy life, just like an adult, means that we stop treating them as something that is there simply for our enjoyment and start giving them respect and letting them make their own choices. This means that if my kid refuses to acknowledge you exist today because a toy car seems far more exciting or if he doesn’t want to be picked up because running and screaming is way more up his alley at the moment, don’t take it personally and don’t blame him. He does not exist to make your life better, so perhaps take the time to figure out how you can be a positive influence in his.

My kid has some exceptional people in his life, and he is so incredibly blessed by that (as am I). Another huge thank you to those who take the time to let Lincoln have his say in the relationship they have with him. 

To those, like the 10 year old yesterday, who maybe just don’t know that Lincoln is capable of saying yes or no....this is me telling you, he can, and will, and you MUST respect his right to express that.  This mum is no longer going to wrestle with guilt for doing the right thing and letting you know that it’s not okay for you to ignore his no’s.

A Mother's Guilt

One of the biggest struggles I've had since becoming a mother is the constant battle of trying between putting my kid first and making others happy.

My son was but days old the first time I faced this challenge when asking the midwife in the hospital how long until she came again to help me with breast feeding and saying out loud something to the extent of "okay, so I should be able to fit in a feed just before it's visiting hours so that people can come and see us..." to which she strongly (and kindly) put be back into some much needed reality and said "um, your child comes first...it doesn't matter when he needs to feed, your visitors can wait." I was instantly shocked with myself that I had actually started to plan the needs of my 2 day old son around the needs of others, who were not dependant on me for their very survival.

17 months later, I'm still battling with this. Usually it's in the form of guilt when we let people down or complicate things by needing to cancel plans due to our own illness/fatigue that comes with having a kid, or because of whatever 100's of possible reason's Link is unwell/not up for it...or because Link has decided he just wants his mum today and no one else...or because Link has an explosion out of one end or the other making things extremely smelling and messy...or a new but increasing issue of Link's stubborn, determined tantrum having toddler self has demanded things go his way and his way alone...etc, etc, etc.

Oh, I would like to add to all of you parents out there doing this job wayyyyy before I became a parent....I am sorry for any negative and judgmental thing I did/thought/said because you put your kids first.  There really are a great number of things you cannot grasp or understand until you actually have one of these little brats, I mean, bundles of joy, and I am deeply sorry to anyone in my life who I may have acted unfairly or selfishly to in the past because I couldn't fully grasp what it means to have to put your kid and family first.

One of the most consistent times I'm facing this struggle is voicing my thoughts/concerns when someone does something that effects my son that I don't like.  My first indication is often to down play it in my head, make myself forget I saw it, or to rationalise it myself that it in fact wasn't that bad. I have to intentionally tell myself every day that I am Lincoln's advocate, and his voice, and that it is my job and right to stand up for him to keep him safe and to make sure he is protected and looked after. Considering I am often one to bluntly share my thoughts and opinions about, well lets face it, everything...this whole internal battle is a constant surprise to myself that I am feeling so out of my depth and low in confidence in what essentially boils down to standing up for my son as his mother.  I don't know if it's because almost everyone has an opinion about what constitutes a good parent (don't pretend you don't...I know that you've looked at a parent in public at least once in your life and judged them in some form or another...we've all been there), or because society as a whole still doesn't validate and give rights to children that they deserve while they are still young and "helpless", or simply because I just don't want people to judge or think poorly of me. Whatever the reason, it's a daily struggle and one that I know will probably not go away for a very long time.

We are working on teaching Lincoln that he has a say about his body and that his opinion matters.  At this age what that looks like is letting his "no"'s mean something when he doesn't want to be touched. We've taught him how to blow kisses and wave when we say goodbye to someone so that he has a variety of ways at his disposable to show this act without needing to be touched in the form of a kiss or a hug if he doesn't want to. How this is effected by all that I've said above is the dilemma of offending someone by not letting them touch him if he has made a sign that he doesn't want them to. It sounds so easy in theory but when it comes down to the nitty gritty of it, people are so easily put off if a cute little baby/toddler doesn't want to show them attention or physical affection, especially if they think they're deserving of it.

I have to admit, it's already hard for me that my son is old enough to decide when he wants to be cuddled, kissed, hold hands, read to, etc, and is no longer a completely helpless newborn that I can hold, squeeze and kiss every second that I want to. I have to remind myself every day that he has the right to choices, especially about his body, and I have to already give him the independence when he wants it to be his own little person exploring the world and developing his personality.

I don't know if I have a point to this blog, or if I simply just wanted to get out of my head and admit to the world one of the struggles I am facing as a mother.  But to try and finish this rambling off with a bit of a summary....Let's all try to be less judgemental, give parents permission to ACTUALLY put their kids and families first (no saying it and not actually meaning it all you passive aggressive people out there), never ever make a parent feel guilty because their kid (shockingly) prefers to spend time with them over you, and let's all work a little harder and teaching kids (yes as young as 17 months) that their opinion matters and just because we're adults we don't have a say about how we touch their bodies.

My little observer.

One of my favourite things about my 15 month old is that he is highly observational.  Some of it is due to the fact that children are wired to be mini detectives to soak in the world around them so that they can learn and grow into functional human beings. But I think it is also just part of who he is as an individual and he's walking in the footsteps of his parents who both pride themselves on their observational skills.

I love taking Lincoln out for walks, and I do enjoy taking him to the shops. Now that he's a very confident walker I love letting him walk and explore and just watching everything through his eyes as he stops and takes his time to notice and interact with everything he comes across.

What makes his observational skills stand out is how he notices people. Every single person that he walks by, or walks by him, he looks at and observes...and as soon as they notice him back, he's ready with one of his very adorable smiles. Our trips to the shops always consist of dozens of conversations varying in length and depth with strangers who are captivated by his smile and big eyes and pause for a moment or stop for a longer chat with him and I.

If you haven't met Lincoln, he has literally been wide eyed since the moment of birth. Matt and I were both treated to beautiful big eyed gazes right from the very first minutes he was born, and many of his first visitors at the hospital were met with this wide eyed little bundle looking inquisitively at everyone and everything whenever he was awake (if I had a dollar for everyone who used the expression "he's been here before..."). His whole life has consisted of him believing that people are meant to be looked at and smiled at, particularly strangers whom he's never seen before.

The best part of watching him now walk around at the shops, which we were doing this morning, is seeing this cute little ray of sunshine work his way into the hearts of every single person who we come across. Whether he's running around in the play area, sitting eating some lunch, or walking in his meandering curious way through the shopping centre, he always stops to notice everyone around him.  And he doesn't stop looking at that person until they're either out of eye sight, or they've noticed him as well and shared a smile with him.  I love seeing how people's faces transform when they notice his smile.  Matt and I both like to think that he's helping give a happy moment to someone who really needed something to smile about just at that time.

It's such a happy reminder seeing this innocent little one notice and show love to complete strangers every day regardless of age, race or gender...free of judgement or hate. I pray that the day his perception of the world is shattered is far far away or even non existent...that even as he grows and learns about the hardships of the world around him he continues to observe and notice others outside of himself and loves them for who they are, simply because.