What is your biggest stressor?

Awhile ago I had to write a paper in Psychology about my biggest stressor in life. After many hours contemplating about this very subject I came to the conclusion that I really didn't have any great stressors. I decided that, while I do react in a high pitched kind of crazy woman tone, I don't feel that any of the things that happen in my daily life would be so bad to warrant the title of "stressor". I talked about my mother and my codependent relationship with her, my children and their behavior due to a mixed belief parental influence and then there is my sister and the fact that we haven't spoken since my mom was diagnosed with Cancer. These things are all events that have happened and there is a ripple effect that each of them have caused. I see a stressor as something that you cannot change. A stressor falls into the category of your job or your personal relationships.  They are like bellybuttons, everyone has one!  So when I am asked to select the biggest one, well that is a difficult thing to do because, on any given day, one could be more stressful than another.

We have these moments in our day where the unexpected happens, whether it be a phone call you have been dreading, your boss decides to increase your workload or your child decides to confide in you something you didn't want to know about.  All of these may seem mundane and trivial on another day but, for reasons you can't explain really, today they push that button and you are immediately stressed out!  How we deal with this stress is a different story and one that repeats itself over and over again.  When this happens to me I try to isolate the reason this particular event is stressful.  I pick it apart until I have it in pieces in my mind and then I can analyze it, inspect it and approach it from different angles.  I don't run away from it like some people do but, instead, choose to approach it with wonder.  I feel that this approach works for me with the best outcome and therefore I can't really identify them as significant stressors in my life.

That being said, I was finding it really hard to complete this assignment.  I gradually was feeling more and more anxiety over completing the project and decided to ask other people about it.  I did what millions of people do these days - I posted it on Facebook.  I mentioned stressors, how I was finding it hard to identify and then I made a joke about it.  I commented on how this would end badly because my family would either not speak to me again and made sure that I stayed within the "lighthearted" attitude so as not to incur the wrath of my sibling.  This did not work in my favor and what followed was World War III.  I was questioned about my intentions, made to feel like I was inconsiderate and selfish and spent hours defending myself.  All of this was truly a learning experience and, as a result, I now know that there is a very fine line between what you think is funny enough to post on Fbook and what you are willing to deal with as a consequence of that post.

All of this was not in vain though because I did finish my paper and I received an "A" on it.  In the end my paper was written about the paper!  I had come to the conclusion that my biggest stressor turned out to be the act of deciding what my stressor actually was.  I had found that I was fairly stress free but when asked to review my stress, I came up short and therefore became stressed about doing well on the paper.  This escalated into a panic over what I would write about and, in the end, I determined that the assignment itself had morphed into my "Biggest Stressor".

What Now?

When you have young kids you yearn for a moment where all you can hear is the sound of your own breathing.  Your heart beating and, if you close your eyes, you can imagine yourself sitting on a beach with the wind blowing on your face while the waves crash in the distance.  You feel yourself going to that place and then your peaceful moment is pierced with a "MOM tell her to give me back my toy!".  You are quickly brought back into your space that if filled with children and Spongebob theme songs.  Life suddenly becomes about dinner and homework while the ever present longing exists just under the surface of your skin.

Don't misunderstand me....  I love being a mom.  I love everything about it and do not regret a single decision that was made when cancelling plans due to colds and fevers.  Those moments are stitched in to the crazy quilt that is my family and I cherish each thread that pieced it together.  What baffles me, more and more as my children grow, is that I have somehow lost that person that I started to develop before I became the end all-be all to two amazing daughters.  I find that I am left with fragments of a person I once knew and, like an intricate puzzle, requires attention in a time when technology is available with instant gratification.  The problem that I face is that this new technology is unfamiliar to me.  It leaves me inpatient and frustrated because it should be easy to find interests post children.  It shouldn't be this hard to socialize or get out of the house, to go somewhere that nurtures your desire to interact with like minded people and have some fun.

Your children are what binds you to other adults.  They give you an instant subject to discuss and break that wall down that adults these days now have.  The awkward ice breakers are not necessary once you find that you are interacting with someone that understands.  Someone that has kids.  In a world where your voice is computerized through a post or a text, where do we find those moments where you can have an actual conversation face to face?  Do you plan a dinner party by physically inviting people over or do you post an event and hope that people don't say "Maybe" they will attend because, let's face it, maybe means they don't want to decline but are not committed enough to say they are attending.  I don't know how to create an environment that nourishes the gypsy soul inside me.  The one that loves to sit and have an intimate conversation that includes updates on their lives, what they did the weekend prior or where they want to go for vacation.  Drinking a bottle of good wine while sharing these small moments in your friends' lives over a good meal is something to strive for.
That being said, I resolve myself to nurture the inner gypsy in me, to learn how to let my guard down and not takes things so seriously, to remember that I have created two amazing people that are lovely to be around and make up the best parts of my life.  I am a mom and I am proud of that.  Maybe being a mom is similar to being a gypsy.  We adapt, we learn how to make the most of the little things and have an abundance of love to share.  Isn't that what life is about?!  I heard somewhere that sometimes the brightest lights come from the darkest places.
 I aim to fill my life with twinkling lights and remind myself that darkness is not something to be afraid of, that it only serves as a blank canvas to bring more color into your life!

so time does get away from you when you are trying to blog.... I don't know how some people do it.  I try to write and always seem to get distracted in the middle of it.  I am taking an actual class at the local college and then doing two advanced, or accelerated classes, and there is so much writing in those that by the time I find a minute to write my brain is fried.  Mornings can be best but I am still trying to figure that out.  Life does have a way of taking over and you learn to use what time you have to put laundry in, do dishes and homework.  I am just so over extended that this blog becomes the last thing on my mind.  I guess it is true that you will find things to do whether you are really looking for them or not.  Maybe it should be a New Years resolution to sit with my coffee and blog until my coffee is gone.  We will see.  What I do know is that no matter how "moved out" you kids are....they still return back with needs, wants, help and memories.  Customs like the holidays are the time that you see that they are still your babies and whatever customs, traditions and rituals you have managed to repeat every year that are associated with a holiday become the thing they look forward to.  Those are the moments that bring them back and I say work them.  Use them to build new traditions with your adult kids.

Going Home....

It's so true what they say about you can never really go home!  Not the home you remember.  Not the place you hold so dear in your heart because it always changes.  I recently took my mother home to Oregon to meet her first Great Grandson, Jackson.  It was a truly eye opening experience in many ways but the most obvious one is that she had not flown on a plane for over 12 years.  That is before 9/11 so it was a bit of a shock.

She did not understand the security requirements and was overly nervous about making sure she had followed all the rules.  In turn she ended up being argumentative with the security people, pointed out things that did not matter and it resulted in a long flight.  The blessing of the trip was not only to see family but for family to see her as she is now, post Cancer that has aged her dramatically and requires more attention on my part.  It is easy to complain about your predicament in life, that you didn't expect to be a caretaker for an aging parent when you are so young, or that you didn't ask for the job, but it is truly another experience to have others see it all for themselves.  I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted because they now understand when I am tired, frustrated or just plain feeling sorry for myself.  It is not an easy task and requires an extreme amount of patience mixed in with some tolerance and acceptance.  It is not quite the best cocktail but it is what I dose up on in order to be around her.
She gets up at least six times a night to go to the bathroom, she snores very loudly but will never admit to it, she is obsessed with the next meal and when we are having it and continues to refuse to wear her hearing aids so everything you say has to be repeated at a higher volume.  Now I feel vindicated because before I was told that I treated her like a child and was mean to her.  This is so far from the truth but I can see where people might think that.  You have to approach an aging parent in the same way you would a toddler some days.  You have to remind them of things, like did they remember their pills or do they need to use the restroom before we leave.  You have to listen and choose what you tune out because sometimes they just need to talk; almost as if they are regurgitating information to test whether their memory is still in tact.  I listen to my mother read out loud every ad in the paper, all the articles that only she finds interesting and I choose to respond only when I have the time to go into a lengthy debate about how she feels about whatever new situation is up.  I did enjoy listening to her stories as we drove around, where someone lived, what they did and how she knew them.  Again it was as if she was testing her memory to check for accuracy but I could not point out errors as I didn't have a clue about who she was talking about.

In exchange for this I have my mother, quirks and all, for many more years and I would not trade it for the world.  I will take all the annoyances, and the abuse from others on how I deal with it, because they are not here doing it however I now do not feel as alone in it.  I now have people that have seen it in person and I am able to speak about with them when things get frustrating.  Oddly enough that makes all the difference.

It's my Mom scent.....

I know it has been quite some time since I have posted but life has a way of taking over.  The odd thing is that I started this blog to deal with my lack of activities due to the absence of my parental duties but I have managed to fill my time.  It seems that the original concern was finding something to do but now my worries are which ones do I focus on and how do I balance my time now?  The sleeping creative being has been awakened and I am flooded with ideas and interests.  Now I can't decide on which interest to commit my time to and find myself floundering.....

I have been interested in crafts for as long as I can remember but lately I have discovered quilting.  The simple creative process of selecting fabric is so relaxing that I am surprised by it.  I remember as a child my mother was, for lack of a better term, a fabric Tupperware dealer.  She sold fabric in our house, a process that was so similar to Tupperware, and I believe it was this select club that exposed me to the magic of fabric.  I loved the act of thumbing through the small swatches of fabric, carefully glued on cards and placed in boxes by category.  Women would come in droves to our living room and spend hours carefully selecting their fabric.  They would fill their order forms and weeks later pick them up.  After the sale closed my mother would let me rip off the sample swatches and I was given these little pieces of fabric to do with as I pleased.  I would make doll clothes, sew pieces together and cherish them.  Little did I know that this was the onset of my love for fabric.

Having idle time on my hands has allowed me to rediscover this love and I find myself quilting intricate patterns and dreaming of colored fabrics in all different designs.  It is relaxing and comforting to be surrounded by fabric.  The satisfaction I feel when I complete a project is outweighed by the thrill of finding my next project.  I had always stated that I did not sew but I now know this statement was limited to sewing clothing.  Following a pattern was never my strength so quilting fills that void.  There are no rules and patterns can be adjusted, tweaked and made-up.  A grand accomplishment for a person who "doesn't sew".   I suggest that everyone learn how to quilt even the most basic of quilting patterns and discover what I am talking about.  There is a sheer joy in using your hands and the stress you avoid is worth it.  Forget about the fact that I haven't heard from my girls for a few weeks yet I know they are fine, I am content to be sitting in from of my vintage Pfaff machine, carefully stitching my most recent design together, and waiting until the time when they will need me for their next catastrophe......I did see my youngest today and when I hugged her she stated that I smelled good.

I told her it was my Mom scent and it would be here when she needed it....quilting!

Let the Twisted Prevail!!!!

So I am taking a Children's Literature class at the local college and I love it....so far. I am sitting in a classroom and realizing that I could mother to almost all of them, except for one other student and the teacher, and slowly see that this is a class that must be required for elementary education. They are all budding teachers and my stomach drops because I am there to learn about children's lit. I want to write kids books but the teacher keeps referencing classroom strategies and what you can do with this in the classroom.... I am feeling very out of place and then I had an ah-ha moment. I decided to heck with all of them...I am here to get what I need from this class and they can like it or not. I don't care. This would be a very good example of a person who goes into a situation with a preconceived impression. This is not that classroom anymore. We were all to do a presentation on our favorite book for kids and I was torn. Should I go safe and be fake or should I be myself and risk the looks? It brought back memories of when I was a young mom and trying to find common interests with the other moms. I didn't fit in to begin with because I worked full time so I couldn't be there all the time for them. That was the first thing but then my point of view was different on rules and what my girls could do. I had decided that everything was ok and I would address what they weren't allowed to do if it created a problem. I guess this was not a normal way of raising a kid but I didn't want to be the rule monger. I didn't want to be the parent that controlled their child but instead wanted them to develop as they needed to....of course with gentle nudging in certain directions. They were, in turn, the children that were always allowed over at friends houses, invited to go on trips and sleepovers but other kids were not allowed at my house. I thought this was not fair....you see my girls and how they are...what makes you think that they are different at home? I felt dejected and defeated and finally gave up. I never did have the friendships I desired, the one where you raise your kids together and watch them grow while you sit and drink coffee and gossip. That was not in the cards for me but now I see that it wasn't supposed to be. Everyone has a life that they are to live. With that life they are supposed to learn, grow and hopefully teach one other person that it is ok to be different. It is normal to not be like everyone else and to be different, while it may be risky, it will work for you in the end. You just have to grow into the person that you are and it may take years before you get there. I am so glad that I risked the looks because it ended up working in my favor. I got up before the class, explained that I had gifted kids and was challenged early on to find age appropriate material that was for an advanced reader. I shared how our family had a dry and witty sense of humor and often it was dark and then I pulled out "There's a Hair in my Dirt" by Gary Larson of the Far Side fame. It was a total hit and right on the money. For the first time I felt like I wasn't a freak and didn't have to second guess my actions. I detailed how the book had one side of the page as cute and happy and then on the other side of the page it was sarcastic but educational with details about nature and facts that could be shared. In the end the teacher stopped and explained to the class that this is a big challenge for teachers and there is a need for higher level reading with kid themes. Winner winner chicken dinner!

Bitches Mannnn.......

One of the beautiful features of being older should be knowing what you want and being able to voice your opinion. I voice mine often and, while most times the outcome is positive, there are times that I offend on accident. I would have to say that it is because people are just too damn sensitive. I don't really want to live in a world where I have to worry about every little thing I say or do for fear that I may hurt someone's feelings or say the wrong thing. I have often said that I don't make a good friend to girls because I will not lie to them. I don't believe a friendship should be built on false words and you can never really trust a friend until you don't second guess yourself when you have spoken the truth. Women always have to put their two cents into a conversation, yes I am guilty as charged, but men speak the truth until a woman gets a hold of them. Women highly undervalue men and what they have to offer. Men are happy with silence. Women have to fill it with noise. You can walk with a man and not say a word while being content but a woman has to talk about her day and who said what to whom. I wonder why that is? We say that men are dumb and can't do anything right but I think it is women that just don't get it. There is nothing wrong with being quiet and just enjoying the moment. Sit back and observe then when someone says something that intrigues you...you share your thoughts and then sit back. It is genius. No wonder women accuse men of never listening...they don't know what is important enough to listen to if there is a constant jumble of words.

That being said I hate women who trap men into believing they deserve the crappy treatment they are getting. I have a front row ticket to the show and it is just sickening what a woman can do to a man if she has the mind to. I spent the better part of my day supporting my friend and taping up his broken heart because SHE can't take care of her shit! She feels that he is not being supportive of her by neglecting to offer her money. Why? Three months of dating means that they are supposed to just hand over cash cuz you ask them to? And why is it such a bad thing for him to have said no based on that fact? He has been condemned to suffer the texting wrath of a crazy bitch who can't pay her own way in life. It is so sad! One bad seed ruins it for so many....

I told him that to be a unit you have to each be individuals first and that means paying your way in life. If you start into a relationship simply because you think your money worries will go away then what does that say about you as a person? Wouldn't you much rather enjoy knowing that you have got your own back and when things get tough, while they may really suck, you will at least muddle through? I think so! This girl does.

I remember a time, not so long ago, where my love moved her for me and didn't find work for almost a year. While I understood his situation, and worked very hard to not stress him out, it was a difficult transition but he still contributed in so many other ways. There may have been a time where I wished I didn't have work so hard (full time job, part time job for insurance and school 3/4 time) but I always knew I had support from him. I knew that he would do the same for me if I was in his shoes and it made it easier to handle. We joked about his being my wife due to his mad domestic skills but I always knew the limit. I imagined that it must be hard for him not to be able to help the way he wanted and kept the lines of communication open. We had some fights but we made it through it fine. Now he is employed and doing well but we are still on that equal level when it comes to contributing to the life we are building together. I have always said you can't be a we until you are a whole person first. Any other way just brings chaos to the table and heads will start to roll. Then the blame game starts and noone likes that game!