Take no action - get more results

So recently I found myself (yet again) in a very dark and sad place, pondering the how's and why's about my life and my circumstances. Things with the kids still suck - I've disconnected and I can't get back to loving them like I did. 

In case you didn't realise it, I toy between embracing my step-mommyhood and despising it to the point of no return. Here I am with my latest gem - "Take no action - get more answers". 


On my personal blog (that I sadly can't share with you for anonymity reasons) I wrote about a lady I recently discovered in the field of guidance and wisdom through spiritual awareness. If you're into this kind of energy aware, New Age thinking you'll enjoy Jocelyn Daher. She's a young mother, writer, Herbalist, Astrologer (and so much more) and she just emulates positivity and is a wellspring of enlightenment for conscious living.

In my blog I wrote about how Jocelyn had recently quoted Lao Tzu who said:

“If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.”

It's a quote I've heard many time's before, but it's it funny how you can hear the same thing over and over again and one day it just makes sense!

While I've been mulling over my resentments, my concerns for my future and my worry about how my life is going to turn out (and while all valid concerns, obsessing about them won't guarantee their success or failure) I realised that I've been spending my time sending energy to worse case scenario's that haven't even transpired. 
So, I decided to be more present and in doing nothing and living in the present moment, one moment at a time, I allow myself to open myself up to more answers - because I'm open to listening when I'm not depressed or anxious. 

The next time you're wondering how or when your situation is going to improve, be it work or personal, remember that in the stillness of simply being, we clear and mute the rumblings in our busy minds and bring ourselves back to our true, authentic state of existence.

It is in these moments that all is right with the world, because everything is already okay. 

The Wood From The Tree's

I won't lie, it's been a challenging start to the year.
The eldest is failing, the youngest doesn't listen - to anything.
They are both incapable of going a day a moment, without a lie. 

Somewhere along the line, I questioned to myself if this was all worth it, somewhere along the line, I reminded myself that I've committed my life to their father and that in turn, this is part of the package. I'm still trying to figure out if this is a raw deal or an opportunity.

Mommyhood - no training required

So here I was thinking to myself, that things would progress. That life, like everything else in my daydreamers mind, would fall into it's perfect place with enough attention.  Sadly, I've been wrong all along. This isn't about me and this isn't about how I can fix them. They are damaged children, with damaged perceptions about life. 

I often hear my hubby-to-be repeating himself to the kids. Another day, another session of shouting at two children who know the rules, know the routine, know what is expected. They still don't do it. They are addicted to the drama that comes with the fight.

Later, I realised that no parent actually know what they are doing, how can they? You get children that don't come with instruction manuals, advice that comes from people with their own set of ideals for their children, no "one size fit's all" here, I'm afraid. Everyone, is just winging it!

Another little meltdown

I'm almost getting used to being in a state of depression and frustration. I know that I need to love them, but I also don't have to. So somewhere between wanting to be this vessel of unconditional love and purity, the resentment is real. 

Somewhere along the last couple of weeks, I realised that I don't have the answers, and that these children aren't exactly 'normal' either. They are little Bonsai tree's of toxic belief systems and emotionally absent parents. They manipulate and feast off the carcass of emotional maturity like a savage beast that is driven by the ego. And then, my ego gets sucked into the same, and our ego's feast as my Higher Self sits and shakes her head at another lost battle. 

What is normal anyway? Is lying normal when it involves hurting people you love? My gut instinct tells me these kids aren't normal children. Recently, their mother was informed by the youngest child, that I drove over his hand (which I obviously hadn't) and on further investigation found out he did it to make his mother angry. Mission accomplished!

When we asked why he would do such a thing, he admitted that he knew his mother would lash out at his father. He explained that (please sit down for the next part) he wanted to make his mother angry, who would in turn get his father into trouble and all for the sake of revenge because he was angry with his father for reprimanding him every morning for dawdling through the morning routine and fighting with his brother. (Insert psychosis here!)

The repercussions of parenting

After listening to and witnessing how two people can make children but not be accountable for their emotional well-being, due to their own lack of personal awareness, I'm sitting with two children in my life that have not only experienced a separation in their family as they knew it, but have never really had the role models they should have had, until now. 

I've been made so aware that, although we have the best intentions for our children, if we are not whole, we cannot impart wholeness onto them and into their lives. If we are not emotionally stable, secure and growing, we cannot expect, emotionally stable, secure and developing children in our lives. What we put in to ourselves, really is what we get out in them. 

I've witnessed how my positive, spiritual influence, my life lessons, my affirmations and guidance hasn't fallen on deaf ears. What you invest in your marriage, your partner, your children and your family will, for the most part, allow you will live in peace as everyone grows in their own time and at their own pace with a healthy, solid foundation. 

My challenge is learning to stay positive in a seemingly depressing environment, with children who aren't my problem, children I didn't bring into this world or want in any shape or form in my life. My challenge is learning to be that positive influence when (almost always) I've checked out emotionally to prevent further hurt and protect myself from the pain and inconvenience they cause me.

How do we become the best versions of ourselves, and in turn, how do we stay the best version of ourselves as our children watch our motivation, lack thereof, our inspiration, depression, anxiety, frustrations, joys, victories and pain. 

I look forward to doing this all again for my own flesh and blood, I imagine that it would be worth the sacrifice. 

Right now, I'm incredibly grateful that school holidays are here, so that they don't have to be - and I'm okay with feeling that way. 

Pushed past my boundaries

It's not resentment, it's pure frustration.
Two little children twisted and mangled from years of poor guidance and absent parents. Today I was pushed past my boundaries. 

The wheels fell off today

For the first time ever, I shed tears of pure frustration after delivering them safely to their daycare. Hours before this I'm feeding them, ensuring they are prepared for the day and allow for transparency and accountability in the space between home and not. 

Dramalama

So there we were, about to leave the house and the youngest has his brothers car, remote control car that cost me a fortune, being dragged by a piece of nylon he's fastened to the undercarriage. This is how it all began, followed by excuses from the eldest that he's scared to confront his brother (if you knew the authoritative, dominant personality you'd also call bullshit) and of course another 5 minute debate about why their seat belts aren't on (again) in my car. They never do this in their fathers car. 

The smirk that hurt more than a slap in the face

Our home is full of dangerous spiders that crop up from time to time. I don't normally kill spiders but these particular species can cause a lot of harm to children and animals so I insist we remove them. 

Before we left the house I had asked the youngest if he had washed his face, brushed his teeth and hair and his hands. A resounding and confident "Yes!" came out of his mouth. 

Just as we turned into the daycare mothers house, the eldest ejects his seat belt from it's fastened position. I SLAM on brakes, partially out of concern that one of the doors may be open and partially because my gut had told me one of them had done so on purpose. 

True as nuts, the eldest had done so. Now livid, I insist he puts his belt on until he has come to a complete stop. They never do this with their father. 

My wits end

As we arrive at the daycare gate, I see the youngest with pinched finger and thumb holding what looks like a bunch of black grass. "What on earth is that!", I exclaim. "It's a spiders nest," he retorts, "I found it on the wheel of the car." 

At this point, I burst out laughing with disbelief. Just 3 days earlier we had explained to this 7 year old that the dangers of the spiders in our home are real and yet here he is with a spiders nest pinched between finger and thumb. 

I get out of the vehicle and get to his side of the car. As he gets up his face and my eyes meet. Not only has he lied about having cleaned this morning, but his eyes are caked in sleep. The betrayal of knowing that he's not only lied to me, but lied so confidently cuts me to the core. He's irritated me, pushed me to breaking point and now this. Needless to say, I cried all the way to work. For the first time ever, I cried. I cried long, hard, real tears of frustration.

A reminder

Boundaries, I will not tolerate unacceptable behaviour and a round table meeting is about to commence. On the other side of frustration is love, on the other side of my sanity is a lack of boundaries. Time to get both back!

Bombyx mori

I've never really been afraid of bugs. 
Sure, I'm not a fan of locust's or things that may have a stony exoskeleton, but besides that, I can handle most insects. 

It's that time of the year

Three weeks ago, our eldest brought home a box of Silkworms. No longer than my smallest fingernail, each little worm now depended on him for survival. "This will be a good life lesson", we thought, until one night he went to bed knowing they were in need of food and couldn't have cared less.

Perhaps too young (at the age of 9) to understand the responsibility he had undertaken, perhaps too naive to consider the consequences should they not survive due to his neglect. 

Not a care in the world

A few days later, the kids are off to their mom for a full 10 day mid term break. The box of Silkworms sits on our dining table, dried leaves need to be changed and scatterings of digested Mulberry leaves need to be cleaned out from the box. 

What happened next was truly shocking, although I shouldn't have been appalled - I was. Eldest skips out the door with bags in hand, gives me a half-hearted hug goodbye and leaves the worms behind.  When I stopped to suggest he takes the worms with to mom for the next 10 days, he sheepishly hands over responsibility to me with a detached grin. Three worms had died in his care, my heart was broken, so needless to say they were mine to care for. 

To live or die

Thankfully there is a Mulberry tree in our road, literally a couple steps from our house. There were jokes about putting the helpless grubs in the tree and let nature take its course. There was talk about giving them away and even throwing them in the dustbin. For some reason, I just couldn't do it. 

Perhaps the hassle and the responsibility was my own fault, I could have chosen to give up on these little stinkers and continue with my 10 day holiday from the kids. Yes, even though I'm still working as usual, no children for 10 days feels like a vacation on its own and I was excited. 

So I decided to keep feeding them 

There were days of box changing and cleaning that I resented. The heat had been unbearable and the worms needed leaves morning and night as they grew and doubled in size. But there were days where (and I still do) just sit and watch them be. Their main purpose in life, unfaltering commitment to grow and spin cocoons. They eat, they poop, they eat, they poop and on the odd occasion they will sleep. 

As they grew, they would shed their skins to accommodate their growing forms. By this stage, one of the worms had given up and spun his cocoon prematurely, as if to just shut out the world and retreat to a cozy, yellow safe haven. 
I could relate. Yes it was premature, but he simply did what came naturally, even though it wasn't 'the right time'. 

My box of lessons

One day last week, while cleaning their box out, a small golden shell caught my eye. It seemed that a Silkworm had transformed itself into a pupae without spinning a silky cocoon and died. We had just experienced day 4 of a massive, national heatwave. Perhaps my own neglect had caused this little critter to pass on prematurely?

I gently picked up the little casing, and on inspection, a transparent half-moth, half-worm had developed inside. How on earth did this creature manage to go into this stage of it's life without spinning a cocoon first?

Adapt to survive

I gently prodded the alien creature that lay in my hand and to my surprise it began to wiggle. The wiggle of life, the wiggle of survival. The wings were developing, I could see the changes happening and the adaptation within the casing before my eyes. It had failed to cocoon, but it hadn't failed to survive!

In that moment of awe, I became so aware of my own journey over the last few months with the kids in my life. My instant motherhood journey, trials and resentments. My ability to see that some instances are permanent, some are temporary and some are choices that have all prepared me for this change. 
Sure, I wasn't ready to do this. Perhaps this little pupae was a metaphor for the journey I've been on.  

Sometimes, we go against the norm. Some circumstances will make us feel judged, some may make us feel 'abnormal' and others will prod and poke us to remind us that we're still alive.

As we transform and grow before everyone's eyes, we may struggle with change and may even forget that all we're meant to do, is simply do what comes naturally. The change doesn't happen when the bell rings, the change happens as its meant to, be it break down, spin or retreat.

We may struggle with transformation and we may even need to adapt to survive. Some of us will be pushed to spin a cocoon and retreat within as we change, emerging as that butterfly (or in this case moth) that we inevitably will become. Some of us may transform, unaware that the change was happening anyway and yet everything is exactly as it should be. 

You don't always have to be comfortable and protected to develop. Sometimes the shift happens when you're in the midst of a heatwave. 

My box of Bombyx mori

If its uncomfortable, it's probably a growth period!

Her name starts with an 'S'

We have this silly thing, our invisible future baby that we keep discussing. It started off with daddy, his wish list for our future includes a girl seeing that there are 2 boys already in the picture. A little girl that will be ours. She will be perfect, beautiful, most wanted... and her name will be Scarlet.

Yesterday I found a mug at the local store, Pantone colours with their names on the front. What did I find? Scarlet - in bright red. I take a pic and send to daddy, a little joke between us, and we giggle through secretive messages, both smiling like Cheshire cats on the other side of the city. Right now, we’re at the point of certainty, engagement talk and future car purchases with little Scarlet in consideration. It's like she already exists.

We know we’ll be together forever, this is it, I’m the one for him and he’s the one for me and Scarlet will make our family of 4, a family of 5. A part of him and a part of myself,  but the time isn’t now so until she arrives, we talk about her as if she’s going to manifest herself one day. We'll greet her when she takes her first breath, as if she's lived with us for years before her conception. It’s a fun game, a romantic one, and will be even funnier if Scarlet turns out to be Steven.

This evening, while standing at the kitchen counter, chopping carrots for dinner, little arms wrap around my waist. A big sigh resonating from behind me, followed by, “Love you”. The youngest coos sweetly and my face softens with a smile.

“Please can we have a baby?”, he asks.  “A baby?”, I calmly reply. "Maybe we should ask daddy first?", I reply, almost choking on the piece carrot between my teeth.

“Really?”, he retorts excitedly.

“Yes indeed, go ask your dad”, at this stage I'm holding back an outburst of laughter that has welled up from my belly and has stopped just before the back of my throat.  

Dad stands at the table doing homework with the eldest. 

“Daddy”, says the youngest, “can aunty X please have a baby?”

“Sure boys, would you like a little brother or sister”, he asks. The kitchen and dining table echo with the very certain response, “A little sister daddy!”

A little sister it is, a little sister it may just be.