I Will See You Tomorrow. World Suicide Prevention Day

Yesterday was World Suicide Prevention Day, and it was the best one I have had yet.

I don't do anything too big for the day. Because of schedules, the kids, no driver's license, I can't go to any events or even get to hang out with the people that helped me through my toughest struggles. But over the past few years I have used social media to try and connect where I can. For the duration of National Suicide Prevention Week, I take the theme and update my status or add a photo that coincides with it, reasons I am going to keep fighting, things that make me strong. This year was no different, and I still have three days of reasons on why I will be here tomorrow to post. Yet yesterday was a great day for me.

See, I don't have thoughts of suicide, not any more, not really since having my son, because that uber rational part of my mind tells me I just couldn't leave him alone. I am lucky to have that part of myself even though it tends to drive my husband crazy. I don't do self-harm any more either, thanks to two kids and two dogs and living in the country, I tend to get hurt enough on a day to day basis that it hits my limit in a day and my thoughts have wondered to the activity only a handful of times over the past eight years. It's not completely gone, but again, I am lucky. My biggest fights are anxiety and depression. And yesterday was a good day; not perfect, but really good.

For me, a tough day is any day that I can't get the energy to move.As the stay-at-home parent it is my job to get Jareth up for school in the morning and make his lunch, and lately I have taken to sitting with him on the porch until the bus comes. I would really love to curl up in bed with my husband and daughter and go back to sleep, but I know I won't get up when she does, the bed is too comfortable, I am too sleepy, my husband is there recovering from the night shift and he always makes everything better. But I get up. And lately I have stayed up. Yesterday was a good day. 

After my only cup of coffee, thank you addictive personality that takes away all the good stuff I am too scared to enjoy much of, I actually got to moving around and working! I cleaned the kids' room, cleaned my room, did dishes, did some laundry along the way. Sure I sat down for a little here and there because I am reading a good fanfiction and my feet love a break now and then, but I got stuff done! I fried up some eggs to go on burgers for dinner even though the hot grease kinda makes me freak every single time. I even got some stuff done after dinner when I usually am just done with the day! It was a good day!

Sure, I had one moment where I apparently snappishly told my husband to leave my stuff alone (I thought I said it nicely, was perfectly reasonable in tone of voice, but then we always think that, don't we?). But it was quick, we were quiet for a moment, and I apologized and explained. Of course he understands why I did it. I left the kitchen grinning like a fool because we handled it! No big fight, no screaming, I won't be on edge for days any time someone even looks at my things. Yay! I remained calm(ish).

Then to make a good day even better! I went to bed at 10:30! With insomnia it doesn't matter what I do all day to wear myself out, at the end of the day I am just not tired. I stay up until 2 or 3 reading, rewatching M*A*S*H, writing a little if I am lucky, thinking if I'm not. I have laid down in bed with my eyes sore from keeping them open and still tossed and turned for an hour unable to shut of my mind. On a really bad night there is also a lot of waking in middle of the night. Last night was a good night! Sure I kinda opened my eyes when Tillie (our blue healer) came to bed, and it was kinda a shock when Brewster (our pit/lab) joined since he has taken to sleeping on the couch, but neither time was enough to keep my awake. Of course I slept through Livia ninja-ing her way between Gary and I, that only wakes me on a really bad night. And I only woke up once before my alarm in a mild panic over missing it and making my son late, it was only 6, everything was fine. I slept well!!

But the best parts of yesterday weren't the ones I lay thinking about right before dozing off and realizing that it had been a good day for me and my issues. The best parts were the ones I got so giddy about that I got to enjoy in the moment.

This is the third year I have actively taken part in the campaign, and each year I try to make sure that Jareth knows why it is the day is special. After all, he has had to watch first hand what these issues do to people; I am far from the only one suffering in my circle of friends. This year we decided to give him his own "Love" tattoo to match mine. If you don't know, mine says "One Love" in religious (and one gender equality) symbols, a testament to my greatest struggle and core beliefs. The kids love to ask what means what and to find the same symbols in everyday life. So Jareth decided to go with symbols that stood for his personality too. Video games and Superheros. Of course Liv had to have one too!

I love opening the door for talking about issues with the kids. Before he went to school we had a very brief talk about the subject, mainly so that he could explain it to his teacher if she asked why he had a drawing on his arm. It wasn't much, he is only 8 after all, but it is more than last year, and that's what counts.

They did this. They cuddled with me on the porch waiting for the bus. He stayed home after school so that we could put up his laundry together. He couldn't stop saying "wow, mom." over his room when he saw how clean it was. They joined me on the couch to watch Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian (only teared up near the end for Robin, an improvement for me. I miss him.) for some family time during and after dinner. There were plenty of goodnight hugs and kisses. There was surprisingly little fight over actually going to sleep and by 10:30 I was tired and done with the day with no reason to stay up. 

Eight years, nine months, and nine days ago I restarted a New Year with a little boy. It didn't hit me like lightening as I held him for the first time that I would never consider suicide again. The drugs were good, but not that good. It was gradual. It was moments like yesterday when Jareth lay on my bed while I folded sheets laughing as I told him all the bad bits of his birth and why he so owes me a hug and kiss when I want one. It was moments like 6 AM when Liv grabbed up my arm and snuggled it, because like me she needs contact to sleep, and nine times out of ten I am better than a Merida baby doll.

I am so incredibly lucky. Yesterday was a great day. And I will see you tomorrow.

My Mother's Day Gift to Myself

Mother's Day is that one day a year that we are kinda forced to pay attention to our mothers, give them a little appreciation for something they do all year without a second thought. We buy cards and little gifts, inadequate tokens to show how much we love them and are thankful that they agreed to go through the horrors of childbirth only to then spend the next (at least) eighteen years raising us. Sometimes it is the only time that some of us stop and appreciate all they do. I fully believe that this day does not do mothers justice! It is both necessary (we really do need to stop and realize what others do for us every now and then) and insufficient (seriously, for all mom's do, one day is so not cutting it). And I say all this from the point of view of a daughter.

As a mother I really do like having a day that my husband forces my kids to be nice for as long as he can. I love that all my non-mother friends tag me in their little posts, reminding me that they are ok with my endless posts about my children that clog up their newsfeed throughout the year. I like getting the phone calls the next day from my two best friend to tell me what their kids did for them and my other best friend (who is not a mom) to tell me what her and her siblings did for the woman I see as a long distance mother myself. I adore the cute little videos that try to capture what a mother is and all they do, the ones that make everyone cry, almost making me as a very emotional mother seem normal with my constant tears. And I thoroughly enjoy the almost painful laugh I get at the yearly vids of men going through that labor simulator (thanks Try Guys)!

But what about the rest of the year? The other 364 days when we are up early to get everyone else ready for their day. I don't get my first cup of coffee until I have been up for an hour, what about you? Or that constant cycle of cleaning because no one is capable of cleaning up after themselves? The late nights and long days? The taxi service and chef's kitchen? I've poured and set out snacks for five other boys running through my house because Jareth invited them over. Birthday planning, dinner hosting, lunch packing, two-cart grocery shopping! Chocolate covered cherry secret moments and laughter filled truffle time. Morning cuddles with a full bed of two kids, two dogs, and a husband still asleep enough to think he gets to stay in bed. Random hugs. Yelling matches. Spankings and temper tantrums and "it's not fair"s. Begging for this toy or that snack. Only Mom can hold me because I am sick, clingy, and want only her. Mom does it this way. Mom said I could. When will Mom be home? All of this comes with being a Mom and we do it all on demand because we have to.  And that's all ok!

The thing is, being a Mom is pretty tiring. It's hard. It's stressful. And sometimes I really mess it up. There are days when I barely roll out of bed, only doing so because if I don't there is no one else to get Jareth up for school. When my husband stays the night with a buddy so the drive to work is a little shorter and he can get a little more sleep, Livia and I spend the whole day in bed watching YouTube. Some days I wake him up an hour early because I really don't think I can handle the kids by myself any longer. I don't cook very often, partly because I can't and partly because when I can the smallest negative comment says to me that I can't do anything right. I hate playdough because the colors mix and it sticks and my OCD just can't take it (Livia is 3 and loves it and I am just now fighting myself to let her play with it). Jareth could make his own lunches when he was 5 because there were mornings I couldn't get myself to do it for him. Livia eats pepperonis every day for lunch, because she loves them and because they are easy to serve. Wild Banshee Wednesdays originally started because I needed a day to turn the music up too loud and drown out the outside world and push myself to play with my son. Jareth asks for hugs, waiting a moment for me to turn and open my arms, because he knows I don't always like to be touched and I have to prepare myself. I cried the day Jareth turned to me and said "Mommy, I love your laugh, it's pretty. I don't think you have laughed all day. I am glad you did now."

Why am I telling you how bad I can get? Because it is ok. This is my Mother's Day gift to myself: being ok with the bad moments. I am allowing myself to have off days. I want you to know that I know I am not perfect and I am coming to terms with that. I have my issues, I am dealing with them, and that's just how it is. And it's really ok if you are the same way. It's going to be just fine if you can't handle everything all the time. The thing about Mother's Day, we aren't being reminded to love our mothers, we are being reminded to let them know that we do. My kids love me through the hard times. Livia sits with me all day in bed, rubbing my ear, giving me a hug or cuddle, and still wants me to spend the day with her again tomorrow. Jareth curls up on the couch with me, asks how I am doing, and watches my show because he gets it. My husband goes without a little sleep, helps a lot more than he should, and makes sure to give me an extra tight hug when he can. If they are ok with me, the three people that matter the most, than I need to be ok with me, too.

So today don't forget to tell your Mom that you love her, that she rocks, that she is the coolest Mom ever! And if you're a mom, take it easy for a day! I get that you probably can't have the Hallmark Day of Relaxation, but you can take a breath, give yourself a thumbs up, and remind yourself that you rock! Being a mom is tough, you can't call in sick, you can't take a personal day, but you can allow yourself some slack on the whole being perfect thing. Share my gift with me, be ok with being just ok. You're doing a great job!

So what did you get or do today? Let me know that you are ok!

Happy Mother's Day

My Daughter Turned Me Into A Girl

I am the oldest of 3 girls. While my mother had a full time job and was involved in church activities a lot of the time, she was still there to talk to me about what being a girl meant, all the fun little details we dread. But as things turned out I spent a lot more time with my father and his car club, which I believe influenced me to be more of a tomboy. I wore a lot of baggy clothes because I wasn't happy with my body type, I found male super heroes to have more interesting stories, and the only women that I really liked wore trying to fit into a man's world i.e. Xena, Dana Scully, Captain Janeway, and Captian Samantha Carter (don't get me wrong, I also saw them as strong women just making it in general, but the pant suites didn't help). I always got along a lot better with the boys in the neighborhood, never having more than two female friends at a time until High School. It wasn't until I began dating the man that would be my husband that I even began to start thinking of myself as a real girl. Suddenly someone was interested in my looks! My dad was shocked at the tight jeans hidden under the hockey jersey. Makeup didn't come into play but once every three years for very special occasions; Senior Prom, the night he proposed, my wedding!

So when I found out that we were going to have a little girl the second time around, I cried. Sure I can pass it off as I was just happy to know what gender this little creature we had waited so long for was. But the truth is, I was terrified! What if she liked dresses? Better call up my friends for makeup advice! Worse: What if her dream is to be a ballerina or cheerleader!? I had no idea what I was doing! The most I did for date night was paint my nails, throw on a skirt that I felt nearly naked in, and put on a little eye makeup. I do feel at home in heals, but that has always been more for showing off and hiding my height issues.

I remember barely being pregnant and going into Toys'R'Us for a gift for a friend's daughter. My husband left me to look at another Nerf gun for my son, an aisle I feel totally at home in. But I had to find a gift! So I stood in the little girl's aisle, looking at all this pink! I literally began to have a panic attack. My husband came back to find me sitting on the floor, staring at five different stuffed dolls wide eyed and non-responsive. I admit, I over reacted, but I couldn't help it, girls terrify me!

How does someone like me make it through being a mom to a little girl? I had the right little girl! My daughter loves to tackle her brother, and I am not talking about just running at him, she actually looks like a little football player charging a guy! She runs down the toy aisle at a store and her eye is first caught by the fighter planes painted camo meant to attract boys! Her favorite thing to do to me is to run up and burp in my face or fart on my lap while we snuggle! She is the product of a house that is used to being centered around a boy. But you know what she wanted for her second birthday? Little Mermaid. Nothing else would do! While she is running around the house in her big brother's baggy athletic shorts, she has on her little princess dress heals. Every night after a bath to get all the mud off, she selects a new pair of earrings to wear the next day. My daughter is a perfect mix of attitudes that catches me off guard, makes me laugh, and comforts me.

Every Saturday we sit down and paint our nails because she just loves switching colors. I am slowly learning new ways to do my long hair so that when she gets older I will know it all. I pick out cute outfits for her every day and it has rubbed off onto me picking out stylish clothes for myself, when I can afford it.

But she hasn't just made it so that I embrace the little girly things I shunned when I was younger. She has made me comfortable in my own skin. I am working on getting fit, not so that she can see me skinny, but so that she can see me happy. I don't want a six pack of abs, I just want to smile when I have to put on a bathing suite. Her fascination at "that time of the month" makes me realize it is something that is perfectly common and sets me out as a healthy woman in my prime. The way she watches me with her brother and the other kids I watch fascinates me as she passes it onto her babies and makes me proud of my job, something others seem to take for granted. And the way she is delighted in the bits of my religion she sees renews my own delight in worshiping a female figure.

No longer am I terrified of her getting older and girlier. Instead I am eager to show her what all I know and have learned over the years. A whole world of wonder awaits a young girl, and I get the pleasure of introducing my daughter to it with pleasure! Yeah, society has made it difficult on being a woman in today's world, but if mother's can stop listening to what society thinks a woman she be and just lived how they were happy, girls would be in much better places as they grew up, just my humble opinion.

So I look forward to the challenge of raising a little girl. I hope other mothers are just as excited! Has having a girl made you different? I want to know! Or have you always been into the girl scene and have had a boy? I bet it is just as challenging for you. Let me know!

Discovery

I think one of the most amazing things about being a parent is discovering who these little people will become. You get to be the first to find out their likes and dislikes, the quirks on their attitudes, what makes them unique in every way! And to me that is one of the best parts of raising a child. Which is also one of my biggest problems with some advice from others. So many times I have had people tell me that if we push Jareth toward something he will learn to like it: food, certain sports, a TV show, or other interests. I have always been resistant to any type of "leading" behavior, instead going about my life as I normally would and just hoping that Jareth would see something that he liked. (The only exception being that I read to him every night when he was younger, picking books he would not have for himself to challenge him).

In this way I have discovered that Jareth prefers hockey to football, but he likes it much better in person. He loves bright upbeat music ("Count on Me" by Bruno Mars) but also loves anything by Imagine Dragons ("Radioactive" and "Demons" being his top two). He happens to like all the superheros I despise (Spiderman and Batman being his top two). His favorite food is grilled sandwiches, one of my least favorite to make.

By letting Jareth figure out things for himself he has developed one very unique person with some things he has in common with me and my husband and some things that are all his own. I love hearing him say that he loves something, reading for instance, and knowing that it is all him, something we have in common because he is drawn to it, not because I pushed it so heavily on him. (Yes I did read to him for a while at night, but once he got to the point where he could pick I would let him choose which book, if any, we would read.) It is a thrilling thing for me.

I see it also with Livia. She is a very special child, crazy is the best way I describe it. But there  are times amid the chaos (something I swear I never endured with Jareth) when I see bits of me. The way she dances around in circles. The way she just loves to run outside barefoot onto the grass (something Jareth also does). Or the way she curls up in a chair with a baby-doll and a book to read like Mommy. It was also astonishing that after trying five different types of sandwiches the one that she finally liked is peanut butter and honey, one that I have never had but watched my father make so often.

As parents we are responsible for making these little people into productive members of society. We are supposed to teach them manners, values, respect, and responsibility. So after pushing all that on them why do we have to make them eat a carrot three times a week until they "learn" to like it? Why not just realize that corn is the one veggie they will eat for a few years and one day they will discover something else and realized they missed out for so long. Why do they have to listen to Radio Disney when there are tons of awesome songs with a message on our stations? Just because society thinks that one is healthier? Or that parents are supposed to do certain things with their kids? No thank you. I am working on raising individuals.

So my seven year old has a zombie survival plan and my two year old thinks "Can't Hold Us" is awesome dance music. I am good with that. At least they know not to eat with their elbows on the table and would never dream of talking back! Yeah, I am good with that.