I sat before my client Beaulah, she's a real gem to call on.
She's become a trusted friend, the older sister I never had. I held back tears as I shared where I was in my life at that moment.
I had come to the point in this instant family, that I resented the children without remorse. I resented their father for the decision's he'd made. I resented myself for choosing these struggles.
The past week stung
The previous Monday I sat in front of our youngest child's teacher. She was factual and direct about her concerns, almost expressionless in desperation.
"He's failing, he doesn't concentrate for more than a minute at a time", her eyes wide with anticipation.
I cried and cried in the car park as we left for the start of our day. The decisions his mother had made while carrying him were finally being felt. It stung like acid reflux in the chest of reality, a reminder of past mistakes every time I look into his eyes. I carried his hurt because he never chose this, neither of them did. Yet I stood crying for them, me, not their parents. Me.
Refusing to put him onto anything strong enough to alter his personality we found a short term solution and put him on a trial of scheduled medication for concentration. We have 1 month's supply of the stuff to prove ourselves and by we, I mean him.
The night I met Zelna
Zelna is a world reknown child therapist, psychologist and kids life coach. Her talk on assisting children found myself and dad at her workshop the same night we found out about our youngest child's concentration issues. I didn't mention the eldest, but he's snowballing his way right into 'juvie' if he carries on the way he's going. They needed help, so I wanted to start with us - because of finances that is - not because the kids weren't a priority, but perhaps if we could learn something new for a couple bucks, it would help us in the long run when they got the therapy they needed. I was beginning to lose faith that I would find the person I needed to assist with the therapy I wanted for them on the financial terms we could afford.
Beaulah listened with her eyes as she always does. She is so kind and caring this earth angel friend of mine.
"I've built a wall Beaulah", I said, "I can't imagine smiling, laughing or caring for them anymore. I've checked out!"
I had shared with her how our meeting with Zelna had brought about a change of perspective in me, how it had softened my hardened heart and made me realise that my walls needed to come down, not just for the kids but for my own sanity.
The only way out of this mess, would be to go back to where I started. Open my arms, open my heart, forgive and shine my light.
"Do what you do well with your children", Zelna had advised, and so I decided to share my gifts and talents with them and let them back into my world.
My world had peace once. It had transparency and joy. Somewhere along the line the walls had become so high that I couldn't see my own light.
Beaulah continued to listen, her kind words and tender advice echoed my hearts desires for laughter and serenity to be returned to our home. "It starts with you, your time with them, your one on one moments together", she explained, "you just need love, share your time and let those walls come down. These are the moment's that will not only make the difference now, but will be treasured forever!"
Yes, I felt guilty. I felt like I'd forgotten how to love to the point of being blind to what was really needed in our home. My maternal instincts, my humanity and my authentic self had flown out the window because of my anger and resentment, twisting a vine of animosity around my heart and suffocating my soul.
Beaulah smiles at me and whispers, "If anyone can love those children the way they need to be loved, it's you!" And I smiled back because I knew she was right.
We have since found a therapist and the children will commence emotional support and play therapy within the next 2 weeks. Anything can happen when you want it badly enough, and all I want for them is more than they will know.
Showing posts with label life lessons.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life lessons.. Show all posts
Monday, 9 May 2016
Wednesday, 13 January 2016
Nothing changes, if nothing changes
So here we are, 2016!
To be honest with you, I imagined a more space aged era, one with a lot more tin foil and a lot less like it is now. Needless to say, it's a new year with a new set of goals and perspectives.
I found my peace
If you're regularly following this blog, you'll note one of two things.
1. It's not that regular.
2. I've been really, really angry.
The good news is that after adjusting, fighting within myself, resenting these kids, and acting like a complete psycho during it all, I found a new understanding and perspective when I decided I needed help.
So, December last year, I lugged myself off to a Life Coach. I had found a special deal online through Meetup.com (a free, community based meeting place for people wanting to spend time with like minded people from any form of life/sport/hobby you can think of in your area) and on Saturday the 18th of December 2015, I found myself sitting in the home of this Life Coach with the mindset that I didn't attend for answers to a specific question, I just wanted to better myself in general. Or that's at least what I believed.
Changing perspective
As I sat listening to these other 2 ladies who were in attendance talk about their problems, I realised I wasn't really applying my real issues (with the kids and my instant motherhood thing) to the coaching. I was pretty happy with my life in general and kinda nodded through the information because it didn't apply - until I applied it to my frustrations at home.
Let me tell you that when I allowed myself to address it all, a tidal wave of emotion came from my gut and pushed it's way through past my throat where I was holding it all down. Everything, and I mean everything came out of me, through my eyes and from the depths of my soul. A year and a half of tears flowed from my face, a box of tissues and three wide-eyed woman sat sympathetically in front of me. I had nothing to be grateful for, I felt angry, used, depressed and tired.
In that moment, the Life Coach had presented me with a question that turned into a dialogue that lead to my breakthrough.
Life Coach (LC) "What benefits are there in being in these children's lives and with your partner in this role?"
Me: "None"
LC: "There must be something?"
Me: "Nope, there are NO benefits"
LC: "Try think of at least 1 benefit of where you're currently at"
Me: "I guess I get to build two small children into whole people, if they stayed with their mother, they would be exposed to drugs, alcohol and a state of mind that wouldn't really help them be the best adults."
LC: "And how important is it to you, that you build up two strong adults."
Me: "Not that important" (Insert awkward silence here)
LC: "Ok, give me another benefit"
Me: "I guess they are teaching me patience and how to be a good mom"
LC: "And how important is that to you?"
Me: "Average, I guess, I really want to be a good mom but if they weren't in my life I wouldn't have to do this all."
LC: "And what else?"
Me: "They are preparing me for motherhood, for my own children, I also get to be with the love of my life, my soulmate, my person."
LC: "And how important is it that you're prepared for your own children and get to be with your soulmate?"
Me: "Non negotiable!"
And just then, my Aha! seed was planted, which germinated over the following weeks and somehow, somewhere along the line, I let go of resentment and allowed myself to love these two boys without conditions, without the regret's from the past.
One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that I had unfinished business. I felt responsible for where I am today because I had chosen to terminate a teen pregnancy, which would have in turn lead to the non existence of these two boys. I felt angry and bitter because of a lack of accountability on their mother's part to participate or contribute to their lives in any shape or form. I felt as if I was picking up the pieces of her broken life, left to fix what she had damaged. I didn't want her stuff, I wanted my own happy, healthy and whole life which included two Labrador's and a picket fence!
While I mulled over my regrets and guilt, I found a diary from my high school years and into my early 20's. As I read all the drama between those two covers, I realised that I wouldn't have been ready for commitment or for a significant long term contribution to any relationship, let alone the one I'm in now, the one that matters the most. The string of poor choices I made in men thereafter was proof of where I was at, and my significant other was busy living his life with his drama while he learned all his lessons in tandem with my own. The timing was never right and now I realise, everything for a reason. Today we are both ready, focused, on the same page and crystal clear about where we are going, as individuals, as parents and as a team. We are in love, bonded and share a love that I've never, ever experienced before. It was worth the wait!
I was a green, immature and very lost soul at 22, let alone the thought of carrying and raising a child at 17 all those years before. I let go of the guilt and regret, and I've accepted that this is how life is. Love, is letting go of fear - and in deciding to embrace this and step up, I've freed myself from the chains of my past.
Life isn't a linear experience, there's not black or white. There will be days of grey and moments of frustration, but there is no right or wrong just choices with their own set of consequences. Life is, just what it is, and happiness comes from being where you are right now and making the best of the place you're in even when you aren't ready, aren't happy and don't know what's coming next.
So, the fact is, these two boys have never been the cause of my resentment, they have never been the cause of my guilt. They have merely been a catalyst for change and acceptance within myself. They have forced me to deal with 16 years of suppressed, teenage baggage and set me free from myself. Now that I'm passed my lesson, I'm free to be my happy self again and believe me, they are on the receiving end of a fun, lighter and far more grateful person than the woman I was last year.
Thank you!
To be honest with you, I imagined a more space aged era, one with a lot more tin foil and a lot less like it is now. Needless to say, it's a new year with a new set of goals and perspectives.
I found my peace
If you're regularly following this blog, you'll note one of two things.
1. It's not that regular.
2. I've been really, really angry.
The good news is that after adjusting, fighting within myself, resenting these kids, and acting like a complete psycho during it all, I found a new understanding and perspective when I decided I needed help.
So, December last year, I lugged myself off to a Life Coach. I had found a special deal online through Meetup.com (a free, community based meeting place for people wanting to spend time with like minded people from any form of life/sport/hobby you can think of in your area) and on Saturday the 18th of December 2015, I found myself sitting in the home of this Life Coach with the mindset that I didn't attend for answers to a specific question, I just wanted to better myself in general. Or that's at least what I believed.
Changing perspective
As I sat listening to these other 2 ladies who were in attendance talk about their problems, I realised I wasn't really applying my real issues (with the kids and my instant motherhood thing) to the coaching. I was pretty happy with my life in general and kinda nodded through the information because it didn't apply - until I applied it to my frustrations at home.
Let me tell you that when I allowed myself to address it all, a tidal wave of emotion came from my gut and pushed it's way through past my throat where I was holding it all down. Everything, and I mean everything came out of me, through my eyes and from the depths of my soul. A year and a half of tears flowed from my face, a box of tissues and three wide-eyed woman sat sympathetically in front of me. I had nothing to be grateful for, I felt angry, used, depressed and tired.
In that moment, the Life Coach had presented me with a question that turned into a dialogue that lead to my breakthrough.
Life Coach (LC) "What benefits are there in being in these children's lives and with your partner in this role?"
Me: "None"
LC: "There must be something?"
Me: "Nope, there are NO benefits"
LC: "Try think of at least 1 benefit of where you're currently at"
Me: "I guess I get to build two small children into whole people, if they stayed with their mother, they would be exposed to drugs, alcohol and a state of mind that wouldn't really help them be the best adults."
LC: "And how important is it to you, that you build up two strong adults."
Me: "Not that important" (Insert awkward silence here)
LC: "Ok, give me another benefit"
Me: "I guess they are teaching me patience and how to be a good mom"
LC: "And how important is that to you?"
Me: "Average, I guess, I really want to be a good mom but if they weren't in my life I wouldn't have to do this all."
LC: "And what else?"
Me: "They are preparing me for motherhood, for my own children, I also get to be with the love of my life, my soulmate, my person."
LC: "And how important is it that you're prepared for your own children and get to be with your soulmate?"
Me: "Non negotiable!"
And just then, my Aha! seed was planted, which germinated over the following weeks and somehow, somewhere along the line, I let go of resentment and allowed myself to love these two boys without conditions, without the regret's from the past.
One of the biggest lessons I've learned is that I had unfinished business. I felt responsible for where I am today because I had chosen to terminate a teen pregnancy, which would have in turn lead to the non existence of these two boys. I felt angry and bitter because of a lack of accountability on their mother's part to participate or contribute to their lives in any shape or form. I felt as if I was picking up the pieces of her broken life, left to fix what she had damaged. I didn't want her stuff, I wanted my own happy, healthy and whole life which included two Labrador's and a picket fence!
While I mulled over my regrets and guilt, I found a diary from my high school years and into my early 20's. As I read all the drama between those two covers, I realised that I wouldn't have been ready for commitment or for a significant long term contribution to any relationship, let alone the one I'm in now, the one that matters the most. The string of poor choices I made in men thereafter was proof of where I was at, and my significant other was busy living his life with his drama while he learned all his lessons in tandem with my own. The timing was never right and now I realise, everything for a reason. Today we are both ready, focused, on the same page and crystal clear about where we are going, as individuals, as parents and as a team. We are in love, bonded and share a love that I've never, ever experienced before. It was worth the wait!
I was a green, immature and very lost soul at 22, let alone the thought of carrying and raising a child at 17 all those years before. I let go of the guilt and regret, and I've accepted that this is how life is. Love, is letting go of fear - and in deciding to embrace this and step up, I've freed myself from the chains of my past.
Life isn't a linear experience, there's not black or white. There will be days of grey and moments of frustration, but there is no right or wrong just choices with their own set of consequences. Life is, just what it is, and happiness comes from being where you are right now and making the best of the place you're in even when you aren't ready, aren't happy and don't know what's coming next.
So, the fact is, these two boys have never been the cause of my resentment, they have never been the cause of my guilt. They have merely been a catalyst for change and acceptance within myself. They have forced me to deal with 16 years of suppressed, teenage baggage and set me free from myself. Now that I'm passed my lesson, I'm free to be my happy self again and believe me, they are on the receiving end of a fun, lighter and far more grateful person than the woman I was last year.
Thank you!
Friday, 28 August 2015
Give yourself permission
There's an old adage about serenity. The first time I heard it was at an AA meeting for the friends and family of alcoholics when I went with my mother as a young child, to a support group for the multiple addicts in our family.
Years after that I found myself repeating this mantra over and over again at the various meetings I found myself at when my partners (quite a list of them) were all addicts themselves. I had chosen, albeit unconsciously, to surround myself with this behaviour way into my 20's.
Until a couple of years ago, I chose addicts. I chose those with depression, anxiety, childhood issues. I chose people, broken and worn down by their own demons, ones that disguised themselves as real problems. Ones that simply needs to be acknowledged and set free by recognizing and accepting their own fears. Fears that turned their issues into monsters, into controlling parts of a soul and spirit that was always meant to be living a life of love, joy, peace and prosperity.
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
No doubt you've heard this before, today I'm reading it as if it's the first time I've ever laid eyes on it. And today it makes more sense that it ever has. I've found the wisdom to know the difference between what I can and cannot change.
The Victim Triangle
The victim triangle, otherwise known as the Karpman drama triangle, is basically a social or psychological pattern of human behaviour we choose in our daily lives. One takes on the roll of the Victim, The Persecutor or the Rescuer, each with their own unhealthy and unstable consequences of self induced, toxic repetition.
The triangle is used in psychology to assist those in choosing the right behavioural approaches to their problems. In fact, I am quite au fait with this tool because one uses it in psychology sessions when discussing co-dependent relationships and the roles we take on within them.
After my previous post, and in case you missed it you can read all about my burn out here, I decided to detach from the drama by choosing to step out of the roles that Ifound myself put myself in and willingly chose to take on.
Drama-lama no more!
You often hear about how people get pushed to breaking point, or as you'll read in the previous post my doctor called it "rock bottom, adrenal fatigue". It's basically when you take on so much, that your body literally cannot keep up with the stress you're under.
Here's what I was dealing with before I took my life back:
Years after that I found myself repeating this mantra over and over again at the various meetings I found myself at when my partners (quite a list of them) were all addicts themselves. I had chosen, albeit unconsciously, to surround myself with this behaviour way into my 20's.
Until a couple of years ago, I chose addicts. I chose those with depression, anxiety, childhood issues. I chose people, broken and worn down by their own demons, ones that disguised themselves as real problems. Ones that simply needs to be acknowledged and set free by recognizing and accepting their own fears. Fears that turned their issues into monsters, into controlling parts of a soul and spirit that was always meant to be living a life of love, joy, peace and prosperity.
"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. Courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."
No doubt you've heard this before, today I'm reading it as if it's the first time I've ever laid eyes on it. And today it makes more sense that it ever has. I've found the wisdom to know the difference between what I can and cannot change.
The Victim Triangle
The victim triangle, otherwise known as the Karpman drama triangle, is basically a social or psychological pattern of human behaviour we choose in our daily lives. One takes on the roll of the Victim, The Persecutor or the Rescuer, each with their own unhealthy and unstable consequences of self induced, toxic repetition.
The triangle is used in psychology to assist those in choosing the right behavioural approaches to their problems. In fact, I am quite au fait with this tool because one uses it in psychology sessions when discussing co-dependent relationships and the roles we take on within them.
After my previous post, and in case you missed it you can read all about my burn out here, I decided to detach from the drama by choosing to step out of the roles that I
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| Photo Credit : Google Images - David Emerald 2014 - www.PowerofTed.com |
Drama-lama no more!
You often hear about how people get pushed to breaking point, or as you'll read in the previous post my doctor called it "rock bottom, adrenal fatigue". It's basically when you take on so much, that your body literally cannot keep up with the stress you're under.
Here's what I was dealing with before I took my life back:
- Their mother not paying maintenance after numerous months of promises while the kids live with us full time. Not - one - shiny - little - contribution.
- Financial loans I had undertaken to 'carry' his kids and us, while the money came in from his side, in a couple of months. A couple more months - still nothing. This includes lunches the kids don't eat because now they are fussy eaters since I gave them choices and treats. Payment of annual school photographs and every other conceivable item that this household needed for a full year, waiting on the hope and prayers of....
- A partner with the best intentions (and heart) in the world to pay me back, or hell even just contribute more than his half of the rent and pull his weight while he found a higher paying job (while I found myself paying for everything including his fuel in his car every week for a month.
- Two small children under the age of 10, confused as hell, acting up and being generally bratty. One failing 2 of the school terms this year alone, getting into trouble with authority at school and the smallest literally just breaking everything he gets his hands on.
- Resentment - a lot of it - eating me up like a cancer from the inside out.
I'm sure you're reading the above thinking, "Hell's bells, is this woman mad, who gives up so much for so long and doesn't realise she's got herself a raw deal?", well my body gave in and my mind caught up later. And here I am.
I am not a victim. I am not a rescuer and I will no persecute or be persecuted any longer.
So, last week, while on the road to recovery mentally and emotionally as well as physically, I gave myself permission to not be the hero of this story. It is after all, not my responsibility, not my fault, not my doing, not even my duty to look after or even like these children. For a year, I've been carrying everyone and enabling everyone to just coast along and use me as a buffer from their drama, while I juggled pieces of broken communication, frustrated conversations and lack of funds. This, is supposed to be our dream come true. Instead, it's been a nightmare and I've allowed it. No more.
My steak in the ground
Sometimes you have to put your stake in the ground, in other words, make a big move. I chose to move in the direction of self preservation. I gave myself permission to leave the drama triangle and start living for myself, the bubbly, authentic and whole person I was before I chose this life, this drama, this man and his baggage.
Does this mean that I'm leaving? I don't have to leave him/them to be free from these toxic emotions, resentment and hurt. I just have to set boundaries - and so does he with her. Yes, I have given an ultimatum and I know what needs to be done, but I will not accept being at the bottom of the prosperity list, while everyone else thrives. This isn't a charity, this is a team effort and I don't really like anyone right now, not even the person I've become.
So here I am. I've booked movie nights with my girlfriends next week and I'm going to do a fun run with some of my friends at the end of the month. I'll be back at gym in a few weeks too. Unfortunately, if that excludes dad while he looks after his brood, that's his problem/duty/responsibility. It's not mean, it's not selfish, it's about being whole. I came into this as a whole person and I lost myself along the way.
If you need me, I'll be getting my own life back. There will be times for family, time for romance and time for everyone else. One cannot be whole, when one spreads oneself to breaking point, so it is time to find balance by putting myself first once again.
See you on the flip side of resentment, give yourself permission to live and free yourself from responsibilities that have nothing to do with you. My responsibility is to look after myself first, without burn out, fear, shame or destruction.
I choose life and everyone is about to benefit from it.
Tuesday, 5 May 2015
6 signs you've broken through those walls
Time is an amazing resource, you either have plenty of it or wish you had more.
The space between the time we start and, say for example today when I realised I'd arrived, takes so long to happen but seems to arrive all at once.
If you're wondering what today is, it's the day I've been waiting for. It's no special day to anyone else, it's not day of celebration in the typical sense.
Today is the day I write about a breakthrough, the breakthrough of a certain child in my life that has exchanged a hairy eyeball with a loving one. It is possible that I may just have cracked the armoured exterior after months of stress and struggle - but I'm here. I think. Maybe.
How We Got Here
I realise I may have started this blog a little late, perhaps I should clarify that eldest hasn't really displayed that warm, fuzzy feeling inside when he's with me - and he's not even trying to pretend.
Littlest brat is different, he's accepted me from day one, I'm the aunty he wraps his arms around and smothers with kisses. Right from the word 'Go!' eldest has always been visibly torn between letting me in and being 'faithful' to mom by despising me just as much as she does. And if you knew her, it's a lot. A lot!
If you had asked me to start this blog a couple months earlier, I would have had a plethora of content to fuel at least 20 or so decent angry posts, ones filled with resentment and questions as to why and how I got involved with someone elses 2 children instead of my own. Seeing that I started writing this far into my journey, I guess my role is in fact to help others understand their role in a blended family.
So how did we get here? When did I realise the breakthrough with said angry, Piranha child? How do I know that it's permanent, authentic love for me and not just a sick ploy to play with my emotions? Honestly, I don't know. But the good news is that I do know I've hit the proverbial gold mine with this corner I've turned and I'm so excited to share it with you.
1. I let him think I didn't care about what he thought of me.
OMG do I care. Over the last 7.5 months I've cared more about this little boy's acceptance of me than completing my outstanding logbook for my personal income tax.
I had to respect his pain, his skepticism of me and his timing - yes, his timing. I had to ignore the shoulder shrug I felt every time I extended a gentle hand toward him. I had to swallow knots every time he went to bed and didn't willingly say goodnight. What was there not to love about me, why did he hate me so much? I persevered through my own emotions because that's what love does, love doesn't quit.
2. I had to let love come out of my mouth. Even though I was thinking it, he wasn't hearing it. Isn't it ironic that when you're being openly rejected you still have to find a place within to pour out love from you mouth and mean it, I think they call the former pride and the latter, love. I learned that there are some adults in my life that needed my verbal recognition too - he was my mirror.
I realised that while I was so busy playing with his younger brother, laughing and joking - he wasn't getting any of my positive affirmation. I had learned to keep him at arms length, waiting for him to warm to me. What I didn't realise is that my absence of contact and emotional availability was separating us even further.
So I let him into my heart and treated his wounded soul with large doses of love along with physical and verbal affirmations. He didn't need fixing for the sake of it, he needed time and patience. Not the person his mother may have him believe I am, rather the kind person I know I am.
It took some time but I started with the simple things, kinda like the way you woo your partner in the very beginning stages of your romance. I bandaged his grief with back tickles at night before bed and praised him for his soccer match victories with an enthusiasm that I had to muster from the deepest part of my authentic self. It wasn't that I was insincere, it was that a part of me often felt like my inner child said, "I'm not your friend anymore!" and would want to stick out her tongue in his direction.
Instead, the adult in me had to sit that child down and take over. None of this is personal even though it feels like it.
In the end love won, love always wins.
3. When the going got tough, I had to stay fair.
Love is in my opinion, the opposite of fear. There were moment's when I had to stay firm and consistent in my disapproval's as well as my praises toward him and his behaviour.
There were times when I was tempted to throw in the towel and let my new-found bond get in the way of fairness and diplomacy, like when you know that the bully at your school is wrong but you give her your approval anyway by smiling as he turns from the crying child she just abused.
In being fair in my views I gained his respect even when I was afraid I would have lost him forever. When he was wrong, I told him. When he was right, we high fived.
4. I had to learn to listen.
To him, to them. To their day, to their fears, to their tall stories and pipe dreams. My role isn't to just dictate opinionated facts in their direction as an adult, but rather guide them with love ever so gently towards fuller understanding as they approach adulthood.
When you put yourself in their shoes, children spend so much of their time being silenced. Teachers tell them to keep quiet, adults tell them to keep quiet. Children live in a world of censorship, "learning their place in society" while very few people listen - really, listen.
So, when they speak I look them in the eye with my fullest attention (which is very difficult for me to give most adults). I give them options, respect their choices and ask their opinions while I watch the questions stir inside their minds in a quest of self discovery.
I disagree with decency and grace when I point out the immaturity of certain thought patterns. How their father and I deal with each other, with conflict and with them, reaffirms confidence, boundaries and healthy coping mechanisms. All of these things come from listening, not just hearing. I listen to what they say even when they aren't speaking, being attentive is what makes one a good parent.
5. I had to accept myself.
I'll never forget sitting in the front seat of our car and singing outlandishly and without apology to 101 Nursery Rhymes I had downloaded off iTunes just for them. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, eldest tells me that I'm weird. Weird!!!
Every part of my heart grimaced at the apparent rejection I was dealt.
"He thinks I'm weird, OMG, he thinks I'm abnormal"
I remember panicking in silence while contemplating whether to admit to his observation or hide it. So I smiled, drew a deep breath and calmly responded with, "Isn't it just awesome!" trying so hard to hide the pensive look on my face.
He stared back at me with disapproval, I may as well have been made of glass. It was as if every flaw and insecurity had been drawn to the surface of my face and manifested through the tiny blood vessels under my skin.
It wasn't that I was ashamed of my quirkiness, it was that he saw it as a flaw. I was wide open and vulnerable, chirping and acting out "The Wheels on the Bus" and he comes back at me with an assault on my character! I embraced my authenticity, I am in fact, quirky as hell. It would be a sad and boring contrast if I sat with laced fingers on my lap and didn't speak a word.
6. I had to giggle my way through to him - adults already have a bad rep for being boring and serious. This one took me a while, when we are laughing we are also vulnerable. Laughter really is the best medicine - for everything - including winning over children. It's a safe space for bonding and being deemed 'cool' by the little humans in our lives.
Tonight I did a ceremony just for him. His lips were dry and he wanted to use my lip balm. I got up from the dining table and dug through our hidden medicine cabinet as I beckoned the family to stand around him.
"Do you, Poopy Pants, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Zippy Toes accept this token of love in the form of a miniature Vaseline tub?", I holler in a booming voice. "Yes!", he giggles.
"And do you, Poopy Pants, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Zippy Toes promise to cherish and keep safe this token of love?", I continue. "Yes!", he retorts back in a fuller chuckle.
"Then, it shall be yours!" I declare as I pass him the mini Vaseline tub to take to school the next day. Humour is a blessing and the funny bone is connected to the heart.
No one mentioned the perseverance clause
Fast forward a couple months and here we are.
Last weekend he returned from a long weekend with his mother. He seemed visibly detached from the world and nonchalant about being back home for the week. He was ice cold toward me, more-so than ever.
I went to my partner with my concerns, "I'm worried about him, he's worse than he's ever been", I fretted while at the dinner table. It was as if he had reverted back to day one - and then over the next few days, this little boy went from "Drop dead" to "Help me, I need you".
I don't know when it was exactly but I think we broke through a few days later. Today I put a note in his lunchbox that said, "You're special to me, I love you and have a good day". Again I had hesitated to include it in his lunchbox, the fear of rejection so real.
Tonight at the table he said nothing, he hardly acknowledged it when I brought it up. What the hell happened to the big 180 he did? Why is he shrugging it off as if it meant nothing? What were you trying to prove with all the clutching onto me when I said goodnight this week, the laughter and jokes we shared and all the random hugs? I thought we were getting closer!
His dad insists on further evidence of this secret note - I hadn't told him and he's curious now.
Eldest quietly gets up and scratches through his lunchbox. "I got your note", he says, "I even replied!". He fights the embarrassed smirk on his face as he hands me the note I left him.
As I unraveled the little brown jotter page covered with evidence of peanut butter and syrup, there in the top right hand corner stood my breakthrough.
"I love you too".
The space between the time we start and, say for example today when I realised I'd arrived, takes so long to happen but seems to arrive all at once.
If you're wondering what today is, it's the day I've been waiting for. It's no special day to anyone else, it's not day of celebration in the typical sense.
Today is the day I write about a breakthrough, the breakthrough of a certain child in my life that has exchanged a hairy eyeball with a loving one. It is possible that I may just have cracked the armoured exterior after months of stress and struggle - but I'm here. I think. Maybe.
How We Got Here
I realise I may have started this blog a little late, perhaps I should clarify that eldest hasn't really displayed that warm, fuzzy feeling inside when he's with me - and he's not even trying to pretend.
Littlest brat is different, he's accepted me from day one, I'm the aunty he wraps his arms around and smothers with kisses. Right from the word 'Go!' eldest has always been visibly torn between letting me in and being 'faithful' to mom by despising me just as much as she does. And if you knew her, it's a lot. A lot!
If you had asked me to start this blog a couple months earlier, I would have had a plethora of content to fuel at least 20 or so decent angry posts, ones filled with resentment and questions as to why and how I got involved with someone elses 2 children instead of my own. Seeing that I started writing this far into my journey, I guess my role is in fact to help others understand their role in a blended family.
So how did we get here? When did I realise the breakthrough with said angry, Piranha child? How do I know that it's permanent, authentic love for me and not just a sick ploy to play with my emotions? Honestly, I don't know. But the good news is that I do know I've hit the proverbial gold mine with this corner I've turned and I'm so excited to share it with you.
1. I let him think I didn't care about what he thought of me.
OMG do I care. Over the last 7.5 months I've cared more about this little boy's acceptance of me than completing my outstanding logbook for my personal income tax.
I had to respect his pain, his skepticism of me and his timing - yes, his timing. I had to ignore the shoulder shrug I felt every time I extended a gentle hand toward him. I had to swallow knots every time he went to bed and didn't willingly say goodnight. What was there not to love about me, why did he hate me so much? I persevered through my own emotions because that's what love does, love doesn't quit.
2. I had to let love come out of my mouth. Even though I was thinking it, he wasn't hearing it. Isn't it ironic that when you're being openly rejected you still have to find a place within to pour out love from you mouth and mean it, I think they call the former pride and the latter, love. I learned that there are some adults in my life that needed my verbal recognition too - he was my mirror.
I realised that while I was so busy playing with his younger brother, laughing and joking - he wasn't getting any of my positive affirmation. I had learned to keep him at arms length, waiting for him to warm to me. What I didn't realise is that my absence of contact and emotional availability was separating us even further.
So I let him into my heart and treated his wounded soul with large doses of love along with physical and verbal affirmations. He didn't need fixing for the sake of it, he needed time and patience. Not the person his mother may have him believe I am, rather the kind person I know I am.
It took some time but I started with the simple things, kinda like the way you woo your partner in the very beginning stages of your romance. I bandaged his grief with back tickles at night before bed and praised him for his soccer match victories with an enthusiasm that I had to muster from the deepest part of my authentic self. It wasn't that I was insincere, it was that a part of me often felt like my inner child said, "I'm not your friend anymore!" and would want to stick out her tongue in his direction.
Instead, the adult in me had to sit that child down and take over. None of this is personal even though it feels like it.
In the end love won, love always wins.
3. When the going got tough, I had to stay fair.
Love is in my opinion, the opposite of fear. There were moment's when I had to stay firm and consistent in my disapproval's as well as my praises toward him and his behaviour.
There were times when I was tempted to throw in the towel and let my new-found bond get in the way of fairness and diplomacy, like when you know that the bully at your school is wrong but you give her your approval anyway by smiling as he turns from the crying child she just abused.
In being fair in my views I gained his respect even when I was afraid I would have lost him forever. When he was wrong, I told him. When he was right, we high fived.
4. I had to learn to listen.
To him, to them. To their day, to their fears, to their tall stories and pipe dreams. My role isn't to just dictate opinionated facts in their direction as an adult, but rather guide them with love ever so gently towards fuller understanding as they approach adulthood.
When you put yourself in their shoes, children spend so much of their time being silenced. Teachers tell them to keep quiet, adults tell them to keep quiet. Children live in a world of censorship, "learning their place in society" while very few people listen - really, listen.
So, when they speak I look them in the eye with my fullest attention (which is very difficult for me to give most adults). I give them options, respect their choices and ask their opinions while I watch the questions stir inside their minds in a quest of self discovery.
I disagree with decency and grace when I point out the immaturity of certain thought patterns. How their father and I deal with each other, with conflict and with them, reaffirms confidence, boundaries and healthy coping mechanisms. All of these things come from listening, not just hearing. I listen to what they say even when they aren't speaking, being attentive is what makes one a good parent.
5. I had to accept myself.
I'll never forget sitting in the front seat of our car and singing outlandishly and without apology to 101 Nursery Rhymes I had downloaded off iTunes just for them. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, eldest tells me that I'm weird. Weird!!!
Every part of my heart grimaced at the apparent rejection I was dealt.
"He thinks I'm weird, OMG, he thinks I'm abnormal"
I remember panicking in silence while contemplating whether to admit to his observation or hide it. So I smiled, drew a deep breath and calmly responded with, "Isn't it just awesome!" trying so hard to hide the pensive look on my face.
He stared back at me with disapproval, I may as well have been made of glass. It was as if every flaw and insecurity had been drawn to the surface of my face and manifested through the tiny blood vessels under my skin.
It wasn't that I was ashamed of my quirkiness, it was that he saw it as a flaw. I was wide open and vulnerable, chirping and acting out "The Wheels on the Bus" and he comes back at me with an assault on my character! I embraced my authenticity, I am in fact, quirky as hell. It would be a sad and boring contrast if I sat with laced fingers on my lap and didn't speak a word.
6. I had to giggle my way through to him - adults already have a bad rep for being boring and serious. This one took me a while, when we are laughing we are also vulnerable. Laughter really is the best medicine - for everything - including winning over children. It's a safe space for bonding and being deemed 'cool' by the little humans in our lives.
Tonight I did a ceremony just for him. His lips were dry and he wanted to use my lip balm. I got up from the dining table and dug through our hidden medicine cabinet as I beckoned the family to stand around him.
"Do you, Poopy Pants, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Zippy Toes accept this token of love in the form of a miniature Vaseline tub?", I holler in a booming voice. "Yes!", he giggles.
"And do you, Poopy Pants, Brown Hair, Brown Eyes, Zippy Toes promise to cherish and keep safe this token of love?", I continue. "Yes!", he retorts back in a fuller chuckle.
"Then, it shall be yours!" I declare as I pass him the mini Vaseline tub to take to school the next day. Humour is a blessing and the funny bone is connected to the heart.
No one mentioned the perseverance clause
Fast forward a couple months and here we are.
Last weekend he returned from a long weekend with his mother. He seemed visibly detached from the world and nonchalant about being back home for the week. He was ice cold toward me, more-so than ever.
I went to my partner with my concerns, "I'm worried about him, he's worse than he's ever been", I fretted while at the dinner table. It was as if he had reverted back to day one - and then over the next few days, this little boy went from "Drop dead" to "Help me, I need you".
I don't know when it was exactly but I think we broke through a few days later. Today I put a note in his lunchbox that said, "You're special to me, I love you and have a good day". Again I had hesitated to include it in his lunchbox, the fear of rejection so real.
Tonight at the table he said nothing, he hardly acknowledged it when I brought it up. What the hell happened to the big 180 he did? Why is he shrugging it off as if it meant nothing? What were you trying to prove with all the clutching onto me when I said goodnight this week, the laughter and jokes we shared and all the random hugs? I thought we were getting closer!
His dad insists on further evidence of this secret note - I hadn't told him and he's curious now.
Eldest quietly gets up and scratches through his lunchbox. "I got your note", he says, "I even replied!". He fights the embarrassed smirk on his face as he hands me the note I left him.
As I unraveled the little brown jotter page covered with evidence of peanut butter and syrup, there in the top right hand corner stood my breakthrough.
"I love you too".
Friday, 1 May 2015
Raising Conquerors
I had made a deal with the eldest last night. He had boldly declared that he "couldn't wait to sleep in" with it being a public holiday the next day. So unusual for him to say that, yet I fell for it. Perhaps he just told me what he knew I wanted to hear. A part of me sincerely hoping he was going to do his very best to at least humour me by faking it, until you know, 8am. I would have settled for 07h30.
It was barely 06h15 as I lay draped over the edge of my bed in a final attempt to revel in what I refer to as a 'Dolce Far Niente day', a day of sweet nothingness as borrowed from the movie Eat, Pray, Love. I could hear the kids noisily making their way to the lounge area of our little 2 bedroom townhouse. You have got to be kidding me right now.
In an instant I'm fueled with lessons from my mother dearest back in my day. Ignited with what would have been her very same loathing of screaming kids when adults are trying to sleep. The consequences back then were a lot more severe. My mother would fly through our childhood home, down the passage wielding slipper in hand. She was ready to dispense corporal punishment to the inconsiderate individual who had (knowingly or not) frazzled her from her slumber and gift them in return with embossed floral patterns on the back of our knees. No word of a lie.
I get up and reach for (wait for it) my gown. I know, how bold of me.
I make my way to the little cherubs, my great plan: promising them that tomorrow morning at 4 am I will grace them with the same regimen they had initiated this very day. Imaginary fist in the air as I gallantly open the bedroom door. I have no plans to follow through on that threat, but how do I teach them consideration if they haven't been deprived of the privilege of sleeping in?
As suspected they laugh off my bluff and continue on with their boisterous debate. Here comes dad and he's not having any of it.
Be impeccable with your word
Children are absorbent little creatures, they're listening even when you're sure you're on mute as you repeat the lesson for what feels like the 3rd time in ten minutes. I'm so blessed with a partner whose values resonate with my own and with whom I would raise my biological children with in the same fashion. We see eye to eye, on most things, which makes it that much easier to instill discipline and lesson's into his kids - and one day ours.
One of the 4 agreements by author Don Miguel Ruiz, is to be impeccable with your word. This week I've learned the importance of following through on the things you say you're going to do. Children listen to what you say, how you moan, how you tease, how you love out loud.
Two weeks ago we implemented a leap frog type of system that consists of 14 (hand cut out I'll have you know) lilly pads on the wall and 2 frogs with 2 x kids names on them. We were going to make it a race and have two rows of lilly pads but we felt it would cause the sibling rivalry to escalate, so we made one. If you're good, complete your chores in the morning and you're ready on time, you move one hop a day. If you help each other out, you both move two hops. The lesson being that by helping each other out, you get further.
This week, we instated a temporary rule applicable to the upcoming, shorter 3 day week. If you're good and you help each other out you could move 3 spaces instead of the regular max 2. The incentive - a big surprise!
Day 1 went well-ish, day 2 included some threats, with a blind eye to the fight over the hairbrush, and day 3 crashed and burned like a sad little paper airplane in a deep and murky pond. I could see my partners disappointment, he really, REALLY wanted to grant them their final 3 hops. That, and the fact that we had already committed to the delivery of Hammy the Hamster compliments of a friend whose immigrating.
Yes, we would of course be able to come up with another "big surprise" incentive before Hammy made his debut, but the kids had failed to achieve their 3 day goal. Big surprise revoked. If one fell, the reward wouldn't be passed on to the individual winner, even though the eldest was ready daily. They would both have to suffer the consequences. The devastation and low team morale was tangible. We could have easily pushed them through, but we have to teach them about consequences.
Hit them where it hurts the most
Another example of follow through is to withdraw privileges. I know this sounds like age old, common sense but we really started seeing the best outcome and lesson's learned when we got smarter. It's very easy to shout, scream or put them in Time Out - but do they learn the consequences of their actions? No.
So we started to implement withdrawal of privileges after we had caught the usually manipulative and cunning eldest in a big fat lie (yes to me, you know the gullible step mother) after he claimed he had done all his homework at school. Initially dad scolded with his usual booming voice of disapproval, hoping that something would sink it and then he made his way to the Tellie to sit with the kids and enjoy their usual 30 minute bonding session.
Realising the pattern of shout, scold, threaten and repeat, I called a Time Out with dad. We agreed that due to the severity of the crime, we would dish out an appropriate punishment close to his heart - no TV for 2 days. And boy did this child lose his cool.
Let me tell you, we may as well have told him that Santa didn't exist because the moping, moaning, groaning, sulking and brooding carried on until it was nothing short of a series of pleas that I had never seen before. Ever.
Then this happened
Sitting at the dinner table eldest pipes up with nothing short of a well versed epiphany. "Do you know", he starts, "that just because people talk, we don't have to listen. That just because people tell us to look somewhere, we don't have to. That just because people tell us to act a certain way, we don't have to." I realise that this could go either way, but being the idealist that I am, I saw the good in his statement and high-fived him in celebration.
Later on, at the same seating, I had encouraged him to look at the awakening that he had imparted onto us and apply it to certain circumstances, you know, closer to home (wink, wink, nudge, nudge).
"If for example", I asserted, "someone told you that your daddy was a terrible daddy (or hypothetically I was a horrible stepmom, pfft as if!) you would then have to ask yourself if you believe that. If it's relevant. If it's harmful. If that person was around, would they feel hurt or happy by that statement." I could see the cogs turning as my little student fed on these tidbits with a keen ear and an open mind. Progress!
In closing, I told him that his new awakening could never been taken from him. He swelled with accomplishment, my little overachiever beaming with pride. I reassured him that most adults still needed to learn what he's learned and some of them never do. By elaborating on the importance of his new found Sitori, he too could use his intuition for the greater good of others.
"You have been blessed with this new insight", I told him, "You may just help someone who is feeling down, or hurting at your school. You can choose to be a light in someone's life". I could see the discomfort spanning his little face, as we've ascertained, this is very deep and with his least favourite person too. But, I know he's listening and I've seen the change in his thinking already. The lights are on and I know he's home.
Living Consciously
Today I covered our whole fridge with affirmations, I'm talking over 50!
I could hear him scanning through them breathlessly as he arrived at the dinner table, "Take time to relax dad" he retorted while we made dinner.
It is a privilege to be a custodian of two individuals that drive me insane with frustration and at the same time fill my heart with purpose.
I will give them both tools to grow and be beacons of light in a very dark world and maybe, just maybe, he lands up helping a couple of stray family members become better people - if you catch my drift.
I could be a sit-on-the-couch-and-scratch-my-backside kind of person, but I'm not. I will teach them, one day at a time, that love, is greater than fear!
Please note I keep referring to the 'kids' as kids for their protection and safety, so gender and names have been withheld.
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