Self Care Commitment #1

I feel silly writing about this which suggests to me that it is absolutely something that I need to put into the universe.

My self-care commitments can be broken in to two categories. The first are things that are essential to my physical health and physical well-being, and in some cases to the well-being of my spirit. The second are things that just make me feel good, they are more indulgent. I am reluctant to write about the former because, despite almost ten years of therapy, I still feel a little foolish that I don't have brushing/flossing my teeth down as well as I would like. The latter category is so indulgent to me, that it is not worthy of discussion.

Perhaps I should think about giving up self-depreciation in the near future.....

So taking care of my hands falls into that latter category. My grandmother raised me and I vividly remember watching her slather lotion on her hands and her hands were beautiful. My hands have always been one of my nicer features, so I've always worked at preserving their finer qualities.

Enter motherhood. I remember a moment after Afro Boy came home when I looked at my hands and for the first time in my life they looked weathered. It was depressing. Some time later, the Monkey told me that my hands looked "tired". Ack.

So part of my self-care involves purchasing very nice hand lotions that I love and keeping them all around the house so that I can stop at any moment during the day and put some lovely salve on my apparently hard-working hands. It is a wonderful way of remembering myself and my hands are looking pretty nice for 40 year-old hands that have never had sunscreen on them.

I also added keeping my nails trimmed and filed to my list. It's an easy thing to do while watching television or talking on the phone. It's amazing how much better a nicely groomed hand looks!

Finally, since I'm on bedrest I've actually been polishing my nails. While I regularly treat myself to a pedicure, manicures are a waste of money for me. No matter how diligent I am about applying a protective top-coat, my polish chips after 2-3 days. Chipped nail polish is the ultimate antithesis to the appearance of a well-groomed hand so I generally do not bother. But since I am banned from most house work for the next week, I decided to indulge myself in some tomato red nails. They are in my opinion, quite lovely. Each time I look at them, I feel good and I feel the same little ripple of happiness as I do when I see my orange toe-nail polish. It doesn't change my life overall, but it adds a little bit of joy to my soul....

I guess that's what self-care is all about.

001 Say Thank You.......

• God I am grateful today for the path that you have laid out before me.
• God I am grateful that this time next week my daughter will be here.
• God I am grateful that last night I got 8 hours of sleep.
• God I am grateful for community and how people show up when they are needed.
• God I am grateful that two months ago my deoderant was on sale two for $4.00. Because of that, I had a back-up deoderant this morning when I thought I had none.

Thanks Be to God

Land of the Free....

So it's Memorial Day and I feel obligated to say something about that. Therein lies the problem for me and Memorial Day - it feels like an obligation - any sentiment I feel does not come from an authentic place, but a place of "I should". At this time of year I hear at least one story of a fallen war hero that ends in a call to feel thanks to this unknown soul for the freedom that I enjoy - in other words that I owe my freedoms to this person and all soldiers who have fallen.

Of course these stories pull at my heart, as do the stories of their families. But to thank them feels false to me. I do not feel that I owe them my "freedoms". I think to try an muster up that feeling is disprespectful to veterans and families of fallen soldiers. I realize that saying so is probably an unpopular sentiment that could land me on some Homeland Security list. I am aware that men and women who have fought in wars would say that it is because of their efforts that I am able to say something that is unpopular without repercussion.

But I am also aware that I owe all that is in my life to God and God's grace. I give thanks and praise to Him. I am grateful to live in this country and for all the freedoms I enjoy. I am grateful for the ways that God has used soldiers of all types to ensure those freedoms. Some of those soldiers have fought with arms and others with their voices, and many with their lives. Whatever their medium, I know that whatever good they accomplished came as a result of God's hand trying to repair the follies of humanity. Thanks be to God.

Say Thank You......

There's a great little excerpt in Oprah Winfrey's "The Best of Oprah's What I Know for Sure". Oprah tells the story of weeping on her toilet and calling Maya Angelou for support (it took me weeks to get over my disbelief that Oprah cried on the toilet). As Oprah tells the story, Maya chided her and said "Stop it right now and say thank you!" When Oprah inquired as to why she was saying thank you, this was the beautiful reply she received from Ms. Angelou:

"You're saying thank you because your faith is so strong that you don't doubt that whatever the problem, you'll get through it. You're saying thank you because you know that even in the eye of the storm, God has put a rainbow in the clouds. You're saying thank you because you know there's no problem created that can compare to the Creator of all things. Say thank you!"

The article is prefaced by the following quote from Oprah:

"It's not easy being grateful all the time. But it's when you feel least thankful that you are most in need of what gratitude can give you."

I'm writing about this because I'm aware that I easily lose sight of all that God provides, of how great he is, of how much greater he is than anything else that is immediately in front of me. Now more than ever I am in need of what that kind of gratitude can bring me. With that in mind, I've decided to reinstate a tool I've used before, the simple but powerful gratitude list.

1. Chocolate soy ice cream
2. A good husband
3. Potato kale soup from PCC
4. Rainy days
5. Triaminic for children

Also, I want to make sure that my joys are as well known as my grief, my trials, and my frustrations!

Be careful what you wish for......

For the last few weeks I have been pining for a break. Taking care of the Afro Boy has become exhausting to me as my third trimester mercifully is coming to an end. I love children and I especially love mine but I am not a woman who naturally loves pregnancy and frankly I think all women are ready to be done w/their pregnancies at this point.

On Wednesday night I found myself in the Labor and Delivery wing of the hospital where June Bug will be delivered. After 10 hours of painful contractions and the promise of an emergency c-section (the hope that the Lord was delivering me early from further incubating my daughter) - my doctor came in and announced that I had not dilated at all during that time and she was sending me home (this after local and long distance calls had been made alerting family and family of choice).

Words cannot express the angst that my doctor's announcement caused inside of me. The only thing that snapped me out of it was hearing that the June Bug's lungs could still be developing and that delivery at this time might result in the birth of a baby who could not come home. In my circle of the Fab Four, Fab Four #1 went into labor a month older and had a son who almost died, was in the hospital for a long time before he could come home and my dear friend went through hell waiting to hear that her son would be okay. Now flash to Fab Four #2 who has delivered two boys, went in to labor early both times and both boys were perfectly fine. When my doctor insinuated that the June Bug could end up in the NICU unit, I did not think of FF#2, I thought of FF#1 and pulled myself together. I also felt like the smallest person on the planet that in my haste to put an end to my pregnancy discomforts, I failed to consider my daughter's best interest first. Good thing she's learning early that I'm not perfect.

But I digress....

So I am now on modified bedrest and have been ordered not be the primary caretaker of the Afro Boy. Thanks to the in-laws and the Monkey, I had time to plug in more support than I actually need for 5 days that I am home alone. (A 3 day weekend didn't hurt either) I am blessed with abundance in my circle.

I seem to also be blessed with irony as a repeating instrument for enlightenment. While I thought it would be restful and relaxing to be ordered to stop caring for my son, it is not. Afro Boy is currently not at his best - he is cutting two-year molars, has a cold, and is keenly aware that something big is on the horizon. This results in a child whose new favorite pastime is to plaster himself to my burgeoning belly and melt into a tantruming puddle at any sign that he might be removed. When he cut his first teeth, he nursed, it seemed, non-stop. He had to be next to me at all times except at night when he was asleep. Little it seems, has changed.

Rather than enjoying my imposed "time-out", I am plagued with the guilt of not being able to parent my child in the way that we are both accustomed. It is pushing all my buttons, including the abandonment buttons. Somehow, even though I know it's not the TRUTH, I feel that I am abandoning him the way I was abandoned. IT IS NOT THE TRUTH!!!!! But that button got pushed so badly tonight that I was in tears over his tears.

WHAT IS THE TRUTH??????

The truth is that this is a difficult time. It is a time when I have to ask for help. It is a time when I have to let go. It is a time when I have to trust others. None of these are strengths that I possess in any way. Yet my health and the health of my unborn daughter are contingent on the success of my surrender to doing things a different way. I think ultimately, the mental health of my son will be better for experiencing all the care that come with community, with tribe. In the short-term, I struggle with projecting my own baggage on to him and seeing deeper wounds than what are really there. Yes this is a hard time for him, and yes thank God he is resilient. Tomorrow, he will have forgotten the incidents of today that were so challenging for me that I was driven to my blog. This is the TRUTH. I do not need to deposit rolls of quarters into his therapy jar. (thank you ff#1)

Thankfully, this blog often serves as a prayer because this is a time for whatever kind of prayer I can muster on my own and for all the prayers that I can receive....

Me, Me, Me, Me......


It is clear to me that my ability to stay sane and centered is directly related to the amount and quality of self-care that I give to myself. I really don't think that I am unique in that. Long before I had my child(ren) I would hear women talk about how they lost themselves in wifedom and motherhood - how they had forgotten who they were, what their dreams were etc... I would stifle a yawn and shake my head in wonderment. How could they let that happen? Just for the record, God, that was a rhetorical question.

I now understand clearly how that happens to me and I suspect to other women as well. When we don't care for ourselves first, it is an abandonment. For many of us, certainly for me, it is repeating the abandonment that was first carried out on us by parents who had also been abandoned years ago.

I have been learning over the years, with the help of a wonderful therapist, how to re-parent myself and stay present for myself. As a single woman, I had almost perfected my parenting of myself. Then the Lord laughed.......

Caring for myself and my Self, while also learning how to be a wife and a mother (both roles for which I barely had a template) has been a whole new journey that God has laid out before me. I am thankful for the path, it is one that is necessary for me to grow in the ways that I know God wants me to grow and at times it is grueling for me.

In order to ensure quality self care in the weeks prior to the birth of the June Bug and in the immediate weeks following, I wrote out my self care plan. I know that writing something down, moving it from my grey matter to paper is a powerful recognition of reality. I also know that sharing it with others, as much as possible, puts it even further into the universe, into the hands of God, thereby further guaranteeing its success. With that in mind, the following is my self care plan for the immediate future, which is truly as far as we can plan (and even that is a bit grandiose)......

1.Take good care of my hands.
2.Establish and execute nightly routine.
3.Drink enough water
4.Eat regularly; eat well
5.Eat chocolate whenever it is desired
6.Establish regular bedtime and maintain
7.Allow enough time in the morning for private time
8.Rest/take breaks during the day
9.Shower every morning
10.Plan/prepare dinner ASAP in the morning

As June Bug's arrival draws closer and once she arrives, many of these ways of caring for myself will have to be adjusted or even shelved for the sort-term. Even as I write this I am aware of the ways the list has already been revised, so more will be revealed........(thank you MMM)

Please Remain Mlac.....


For Mother's Day I requested that the Monkey purchase a compassion necklace for me. It's a lovely medallion-type necklace w/the following words inscribed on it:

tranquil
peaceful
serene
calm
compassionate


My friend The Piper's Wife duly admired the necklace at the Monkey's 40th birthday event. I explained to her that I was hoping for some inspiration and that if I wore the necklace it would remind me of qualities that I am trying to embody more in my personal life.

The Piper's Wife noted that if I was wearing the necklace and looked into the mirror to read it, that the words would appear backward, rendering "calm", "mlac"........

Without missing a beat I said, "I'm pretty sure I have "mlac" down already".

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT BEING PREGNANT.....

I am at the point in my pregnancy where it is getting difficult to remember that there have been things about this pregnancy that I have really loved. Because my first pregnancy was a physical and mental challenge for me, I have been thankful for the ability to hold some lovely aspects of carrying this little girl in my belly. I have also been aware from the time I knew I was pregnant that this would be my last pregnancy. It has been important to me to hold a space for warm and cherished memories and to not get lost in all the logistics. It has been important for me to be able to say "thank you".

• I have enjoyed my body this pregnancy. I carry all my weight in my breasts and belly. The rest of me stays relatively the same. For quite some time now, I have been very round and full - I have felt much like a lush piece of ripe fruit, ready to burst forth with deep color, juiciness, and flavor. At times, I have actually felt very sexy. My confidence and love of this pregnant body enabled me to allow myself to be photographed by Jennifer Loomis who is gifted in showcasing the beauty of a pregnant belly. She is an artist and I was privileged to be her clay.
• While Afro Boy moved around quite a bit, his sister has been even more active - or I am able to feel her move more because I am more stretched out! Whatever the reason, this child reminds me throughout the day that she is here and growing. Sometimes when she moves I can feel the movement over the entire expanse of my womb.
• I have felt more connected to the world during this pregnancy. I mean this in a way that sounds cliche to me, but I have felt more earthy, like an earth mama. I believe that this has happened in part because I am more relaxed this pregnancy. I have also wondered from time to time if it has anything to do with carrying a girl. Whatever the reason, it has allowed me to feel more empowered during this pregnancy.
• While I don't necessarily enjoy having my sleep interrupted by pain, gas, hunger and other pregnancy symptoms, I do enjoy the opportunity to watch a good old movie, uninterrupted. Apparently this can only be done at the wee hours of the morning! Currently, one of my favorites Desk Set, is on AMC.
• Related to the above, I enjoy the transition from night morning to real morning. Night morning is the time of day from midnight to 4 or 5. It is the time when morning seems a little more lonely to me. Sometimes it even feels a little scary. Real morning is marked by the song of the first bird whose day has begun. With that first welcoming chirp cold, isolated night morning transitions into the freshness of a day that is yet to be revealed. Unless you happen to be awake at the right time, you will miss that first chirp that heralds the new day. (this can also be experienced while nursing a newborn, however I easily miss it as I am often nodding off while nursing!)
• Finally up until this point of my pregnancy, I enjoy wondering about who this soul growing inside me is - what will she look like? who will she look like? will she be a sleeper? etc..... Thinking about who she may or may not be is a great deal of fun up until the last four weeks. At this point, I am ready and eager to meet her and losing my patience while I wait. But then I suspect that the last month of pregnancy is nature's way of ensuring that women do not miss being pregnant!

Happy Mother's Day to all women who nurture life in one way or another.

SPEAKING OF TRANSFORMATIONS......

So tonight we ate dinner at our favorite Mexican place, Tacos Guaymas at Greenlake. Our Afro Boy now helps himself to the chip basket once it is on the table. He no longer requires help breaking the chips into small pieces as he has mastered the skill of taking small bites. However, when the guacamole came, the plain chips no longer held any appeal. They all had to be dipped in the guac first. Finally, I heard these words come out of my mouth:

"you can't makea meal out of chips and guacamole you know"

This was one of those defining parental moments. I know perfectly well that a dish of guac and some chips along w/an ice cold Corona make a fine meal and yet that statement came out of my mouth without thought or effort. Hmmmm, I am a mother.

IN THE BEGINNING......

Why am I starting a blog? I am not sure why this is the time that I have chosen to begin a blog. It isn't particularly the best time, at least on the surface, to start blogging. I am 24 days away from giving birth to a baby girl, trying to maintain some semblance of parenting to my 2 year old son, and manage to keep some order in my home. Oh yeah, and there's the hormones. And the husband.

I have been putting forth a lot of effort during this pregnancy to "be pregnant" differently. I have tried this time to acknowledge my mood swings, take care of myself, recognize where I am mood-wise, but at the same time, also not inflict my state of mind on the universe, in particular on my family and most specifically, my husband, the Monkey Man. I feel quite sure that a less-Catholic husband would have considered divorcing the wife that I became during my last pregnancy. Prior to the birth there were physical complications for me that made me quite surly as I was in a great deal of physical pain. After a scheduled C-section, I had post-partum depression that not only did I not recognize but also that manifested itself as a deep dislike for the Monkey. Since I was enjoying my new son just fine, I did not realize I had PPD until things were fairly ugly in our home. I truly lost myself, lost my connection w/the parts of myself that are authentic, centered, the parts that I believe are God inside me. I believed at the time and I still believe that it was the presence of evil (call it what you like Satan, the Dark Side, etc...) working on me at a time when I was vulnerable and not as connected to my spiritual self.

So this time around, I have been committed to staying conscious to the truth of who I am and the knowledge that God is with me and that if I call on him in times of darkness, if I can admit my weakness (arghhhhh) in that moment, that He will sustain me. If I allow myself to get disconnected from that truth, try and "white knuckle" (thank you Bill W.) my way through the challenges of parenting a newborn, then I leave myself open for evil to come in and start working on my spirit.

With that in mind, I have employed a number of self-care techniques designed to help nurture my soul and spirit during this pregnancy. They have ranged from the practical - physical therapy and chiropractic care to help minimize the physical pain - to the creative - affirmation cards that I am making for myself to remind myself of my truth - to the mundane, good old fashioned therapy.

I have been hoping for transformation, desperately. I articulated this recently to one of the Fab Four (my group of closest female friends). I explained that I felt I had not prayed in ways that would invite transformation into my life. She, an experienced parent of a lovely 4 year old boy, gently explained to me that the last few weeks of the last trimester are not a time for transformation. In that moment, I was humbled, left wide open and I sobbed into the phone "Then what am I supposed to do?" God apparently took this as a time to be ironic and literal.

Within 24 hours an article that I had been avoiding wormed its way into my awareness. It was about the author of "Motherless Daughters" Hope Edelman. She has a new book entitled "Motherless Mothers". Ms. Edelman's target audience is women whose mothers have died. My mother is still living, but has been emotionally absent from the time I was born. Edelman talks about her own experience of missing her mother while on bedrest during her second pregnancy. Reading the article was like having the wind knocked out of me. I had clarity in that moment; what I miss during pregnancy is a mother (do not be confused here, it is not my mentally ill mother that I miss, but the presence of a nurturing older female helping me to navigate this time). Part of my anger with the people around me is that they are not mothering me. Of course, it's not their job to be that nurturing person. In the absence of a a physical mother, it's my job to dig down deep and take the best care that I can of myself, even if that calls me to emotionally stand in places that are difficult and uncomfortable...

....this was not the transforming moment I was looking for. First of all it was on the toilet and of course I started crying. It wasn't the answer I was looking for as it required more work from me versus someone else doing something for me. But it was a shift - an invitation to look at the same situation with a new prescription in my lenses. It was uninvited by me, not what I wanted, and yet what I so deeply needed in order to renew my spirit - random transformation. This is how God works for me so many times, in ways that are unexpected, not desired, and in ways that can cause my mouth to say "Oh hell no" while simultaneously my spirit is heaving a sigh of relief. (WHY DID YOU DO THAT GOD? OH THANK YOU GOD)

So to answer my question, this blog is part of my self-care plan. A place where I can remember my truth. I am practicing "Black Belt" self-care (this is adapted from a term used by a mentor, Black Belt Al-Anon, meaning pulling out all the stops to work your program) so whatever resources I have at my disposal, I will use if it means that I can stay connected to my Self, my Spirit, to God. In that way, this blog is a wonderful gift to me.

Happy Mother's Day to me.