More than anything else, when I found you I knew you would be the perfect father for our children. When I met you, I knew. When I met you only online, even, I knew.
You said you didn't consider whether or not you wanted children because you didn't think you'd have the chance. I think that's what you said back then. But I knew.
You and I see beauty in each other when we aren't able to see it in ourselves. I don't care that that sentence is a stumbling, bumbling mess. You know what I mean. Even if our ability to read each other's minds has weakened (what? you don't know what I mean when I say, "that thing over there that sounded like the one with the dog and the cat?"), we understand each other.
Sniffy and nosey. The connection you have with the tops of our daughter's heads sums up so much about the beauty of your fathering. It's pure love. A deep, physical experience, straight into the metaphorical heart. I don't know if metaphorical is the right word, but, again, I don't care because I know you'll know what I mean.
Sometimes you act like you are one of the children. You tantrum right along side our almost-six-year-old. She senses that you are being a kid, too, so you lose control over the situation. It escalates and you can't get her to do what you want. You try to be firm, but sound instead like you are asking, even begging. But, guess what? It's beautiful. It is You. It is how you are, and Maya loves you for it. I do, too. She's not scared of you. It may put you at a disadvantage sometimes, but mostly it makes you the safest of all for her.
As I write this I hear you reading to Maya. Just the sound of your voice, the inflections, the great enthusiasm for the language of books. Just those simple things -- even as you incorporate that huge yawn into the story -- are gifts to our children. She said something to you and I heard Mmch Mmch Mmch (kiss kiss kiss), most definitely those landed on the top of her head.
So you can't nurse Althea. But already she knows your feel. With this baby number two, we're exploring a larger role in your parenting the infant. Your confidence is up about a million times. Mine, too. If you can just block out some of my ridiculous back-seat parenting, you know exactly what you are doing.
Ignoring my back-seat parenting. This is our biggest challenge, I think. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to find your own truth in parenting when you've got this force (me) with so many opinions about just how things should be. True, I've got some good ideas based on my time spent with them. But I can never, ever know what's right for you as father, as Josh, as Daddy. Just because I think Maya will respond to... or Althea needs... does not make it so. As you learn to tune me out more (our mutual goal), and as I learn to keep my mouth shut (my goal), you blossom.
Is this too personal for a blog post? For some people, it might be. But as @mrshl pointed out on Friday, we have our own public social networking relationship. (That could be a whole blog post, couldn't it? Couples online and the pros and cons of it?)
When I found you in alt.music.soulcoughing I was drawn to you almost immediately. Smart, so so so very smart. Funny. Bitter. Clever. Did I mention, smart? SMRT? "You are the smart! You are the smart! S-M-R-T!" A writer. A musician. And, somehow, despite life's very cruel and deeply sad events, you remain one of the most tender, honest, and genuinely real people I've ever known. Genuinely real. What a terrible word combination. But, guess what? I don't care. You know what I mean.
So many qualities that makes you *you* are the exact qualities that make you a gifted father. Your: tenderness, intelligence, creativity, talent, impatience, patience, self-sacrifice, cat love, desire to please, learning to recognize your own needs, silliness, playfulness, childlike humor, mind-blowing sense of responsibility, snuggliness, joy, anger, frustration, wit, ambition, selflessness, ability to read upside down or for hours at a time, laziness, energy, enthusiasm, and most of all your expressive and ever-giving capacity to share and show and feel love.
Our children are lucky beyond description that you are their father. I am lucky beyond description that you are my partner in this journey called parenting.
.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Monday, June 08, 2009
Extend the Family
Bringing up a child in a tv-free home with just me and full-time employee Josh wasn't always easy. It will be even more difficult with Althea (baby #2, the 9 week old) since Maya now watches a 2 (or 3) 20 minute shows most days. Maya started with television when she was 4, I think. I was very sick and Josh had to work. I put March of the Penguins on the computer so she could watch something while I was passed out next to her. That was the beginning of the end of her tv-free life. Part of why we kept her tv-free was because Josh and I are both huge fans of television. We were not at all convinced we would be able to offer the entertainment to Maya in any form of moderation. It turns out this is a great risk especially when things got tough as a parent.
Very committed to the idea of keeping Maya tv-free for a while, sometimes I'd get "weak" and want to just have a break. I'd go to a few people -- you'd be surprised how very, very few people in this world subscribe to this radical notion that a child's life might benefit from no screen time -- and ask for help and advice. The best answer I got was, "sounds like you need more support." When I'd get that twinge of oh-my-god-if-only-I'd-feel-comfortable-with-one-episode-of-Sesame-Street-so-I-can-have-a-freakin'-break, I'd remember "I need more support."
Fast forward to this past weekend we spent with my parents at their summer place. I remembered back to those days as a new mother sometimes struggling against the temptation to use the television as a babysitter. "I need more support." Well, over the weekend when we were all together it was even more obvious to me. The use of television as a sitter and needing more support is deeply connected. With my parents there, it was easy to slip off to the bathroom or even take on a project like cleaning out the car. Not a big deal to ask someone to sit with a sleeping newborn, or play with a cute bundle of squishy sweetness. Not even a big deal to ask them to change diapers since it was only an occasional thing. And, of course, they were great company to Maya (almost 6) who was full of things to say as they did their work on the property and in the gardens. My brother and sister-in-law were there, too, which was like icing on the cake.
Having a group of adults around, even just one extra, like I imagine they had generations before (or perhaps they still do in worlds different than mine) makes all the difference. That little moment of sanity, of being "off duty" for even five minutes at a time is all that it takes for me to stay in the groove of completely loving parenting. It's only when it's non-stop with no break and no break in sight that everything starts to crumble. And, it's doubly true with two children.
I think now of all the single parents I've known. Those parents who not only were the only parent involved--the partnership of a fully involved father makes the work much less difficult--but who also were without any extended family nearby. It makes me tired just thinking about it. Makes me want to run away and never come back just imagining what it must be like to be "on" all the time. And I mean all the time. Even if their child is in daycare so they can work, the child is still their responsibility. If s/he gets sick, who will pick them up? If the parent gets sick, who will take the child to daycare? The obvious list goes on.
When I was pregnant with Althea we considered hiring a post-partum doula. What this job entails is basically someone who comes in and fills the role I imagine was filled by extended family in the past. Laundry, cooking, watching the baby so the parents can sit on the porch with a cold drink for ten minutes, cleaning, shopping. Life. Help with life. But hiring a doula costs money. My parents offered to help -- they are generous that way -- and came up from Boston. But, then, they went home. And no matter how involved Josh is, most of the parenting is my job. At this point it's because of the nursing responsibilities. But, later, it will be because he works a "regular" job while my business is something I do in odd hours (whenever I can manage it). Our friends are all families with super involved fathers, but, for a variety of reasons most of running or managing the household does come under the mom's list of responsibilities.
What is the solution? Hiring a stranger to come in and help is an option for some (I'd do it if we could afford it). Staying close to family is another option, though mostly unappealing for so many of us and simply impractical for most. Living with our extended family would be ideal but, again, in my world that's rarely even considered. And, truth be told, I prefer it that way.
Perhaps one thing we can do is simply acknowledge how near impossible it is to do it all ourselves. Take help where it comes (a group of mamas here in Maine cooked and froze and delivered many great meals for our family after Althea was born). Ask for help when it's needed. And, whenever possible, spend time with our extended family (blood related or friends) to get those much needed few minutes wherever we can.
Just noticed I moved into the third person... classic classic classic. Yes. It's not easy doing it myself (not discounting Josh's role at all, see above explanation). And, it's not easy asking for help. The help my parents give us is more valuable than any cash we could spend (if we had it) on someone coming in to help. Their help is free, loving, and at times with only a bit of exaggeration it feels life-saving. So, thanks, Mom and Dad. :-)
.
Very committed to the idea of keeping Maya tv-free for a while, sometimes I'd get "weak" and want to just have a break. I'd go to a few people -- you'd be surprised how very, very few people in this world subscribe to this radical notion that a child's life might benefit from no screen time -- and ask for help and advice. The best answer I got was, "sounds like you need more support." When I'd get that twinge of oh-my-god-if-only-I'd-feel-comfortable-with-one-episode-of-Sesame-Street-so-I-can-have-a-freakin'-break, I'd remember "I need more support."
Fast forward to this past weekend we spent with my parents at their summer place. I remembered back to those days as a new mother sometimes struggling against the temptation to use the television as a babysitter. "I need more support." Well, over the weekend when we were all together it was even more obvious to me. The use of television as a sitter and needing more support is deeply connected. With my parents there, it was easy to slip off to the bathroom or even take on a project like cleaning out the car. Not a big deal to ask someone to sit with a sleeping newborn, or play with a cute bundle of squishy sweetness. Not even a big deal to ask them to change diapers since it was only an occasional thing. And, of course, they were great company to Maya (almost 6) who was full of things to say as they did their work on the property and in the gardens. My brother and sister-in-law were there, too, which was like icing on the cake.
Having a group of adults around, even just one extra, like I imagine they had generations before (or perhaps they still do in worlds different than mine) makes all the difference. That little moment of sanity, of being "off duty" for even five minutes at a time is all that it takes for me to stay in the groove of completely loving parenting. It's only when it's non-stop with no break and no break in sight that everything starts to crumble. And, it's doubly true with two children.
I think now of all the single parents I've known. Those parents who not only were the only parent involved--the partnership of a fully involved father makes the work much less difficult--but who also were without any extended family nearby. It makes me tired just thinking about it. Makes me want to run away and never come back just imagining what it must be like to be "on" all the time. And I mean all the time. Even if their child is in daycare so they can work, the child is still their responsibility. If s/he gets sick, who will pick them up? If the parent gets sick, who will take the child to daycare? The obvious list goes on.
When I was pregnant with Althea we considered hiring a post-partum doula. What this job entails is basically someone who comes in and fills the role I imagine was filled by extended family in the past. Laundry, cooking, watching the baby so the parents can sit on the porch with a cold drink for ten minutes, cleaning, shopping. Life. Help with life. But hiring a doula costs money. My parents offered to help -- they are generous that way -- and came up from Boston. But, then, they went home. And no matter how involved Josh is, most of the parenting is my job. At this point it's because of the nursing responsibilities. But, later, it will be because he works a "regular" job while my business is something I do in odd hours (whenever I can manage it). Our friends are all families with super involved fathers, but, for a variety of reasons most of running or managing the household does come under the mom's list of responsibilities.
What is the solution? Hiring a stranger to come in and help is an option for some (I'd do it if we could afford it). Staying close to family is another option, though mostly unappealing for so many of us and simply impractical for most. Living with our extended family would be ideal but, again, in my world that's rarely even considered. And, truth be told, I prefer it that way.
Perhaps one thing we can do is simply acknowledge how near impossible it is to do it all ourselves. Take help where it comes (a group of mamas here in Maine cooked and froze and delivered many great meals for our family after Althea was born). Ask for help when it's needed. And, whenever possible, spend time with our extended family (blood related or friends) to get those much needed few minutes wherever we can.
Just noticed I moved into the third person... classic classic classic. Yes. It's not easy doing it myself (not discounting Josh's role at all, see above explanation). And, it's not easy asking for help. The help my parents give us is more valuable than any cash we could spend (if we had it) on someone coming in to help. Their help is free, loving, and at times with only a bit of exaggeration it feels life-saving. So, thanks, Mom and Dad. :-)
.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
Off the charts
Note: This blog post was originally intended for another place on the old dub dub dub (www). A place where my language is much more casual than it usually is here at serenebabe.net. I changed my mind mid-stream and haven't censored it for you.
So I'm blubbering away, not even sure why. I just can't stop crying. Nothing has really changed in my life, but the sobs keep coming. As is my way, I began analyzing everything, certain if I identify the source I'll ease the pain.
I found lots of reasons for the tears. All perfectly reasonable. But, why now? These things (sleep deprivation, 8 week old baby + almost-six year old child + small business owner, feverish illness, confusions with friends) were true days ago. When I sat at the table in the kitchen of my parents' summer house crying, what had changed? I was sure I had the answer. And then I had the answer again (different one). And again.
Explaining it to Maya was also explaining it to my parents and to me: "I've had so many things going on and it's just built up and I need to let it out." She certainly needed to understand. I hope what I gave her helped. I know a crying parent can be a scary thing.
Later that day, though, it hit me. I hadn't taken my anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication regularly for a week and at all for three days. Say what you will about Zoloft and the like (and I could and would in a different post -- I think they are highly over-prescribed), but after 15 years with this medication I can testify that some of us actually do have misfiring synapses that need some bridge building.
But this post isn't really about medication, exactly. This is about online activities and behavior as a mirror into my mental health. When I saw this comic today
it occurred to me I could easily graph the relationship between my mental health and my online activities.
When I say online activities I mean these things: anything Facebook related, Twitter, Google Reader, email, discussion groups like mothering.com, Google talk, YouTube, FriendFeed.
When I say my mental health I mean how much stress am I experiencing? Am I internally chaotic and, therefore, desperate for any distractions to keep me from myself? Or am I relatively serene, as SereneBabe of course prefers?
As you can see, if the image is clear enough, there is a direct correlation between my 'net activities and my mental health:
On the left you'll see the bracket showing the "range of reasonable, healthy activity" or "normal" behavior online. The range is pretty wide as some of us use online life pretty intensely even when it's perfectly healthy. Some email 100s of times a day to just as many people, some share links on end via Facebook or other social networking sites, some blog daily, etc. etc.
At the bottom of that bracket begins the line that runs across the graph indicating "average/typical online user behavior threshold/frequency." I'm not sure why my title has so many words when it just means, "regular people who aren't using the 'net as much as me and people I know," or, "average users." I think that line is around where the majority of 'net users are. They may check Facebook even every day for a few minutes, and they may use email for work a lot, but, in general, they would be puzzled at the notion of spending hours and hours online goofing around.
So then we come to my activities online relative to my mental health. That jagged solid line. This is not drawn to scale, obviously. (This makes me laugh because what would the scale be? A day? A week? A month? Several months?) What I've done is show a few examples of stress levels/mental instability and what happens to my online usage and behavior. The "time" label is sort of moot, really, I think I just put it there because it was on that little cartoon's graph.
Key indicators of rash, impulsive, childish, and even a little bit certifiably nuts behaviors include my level of sleep deprivation, hormone surges, and as I mentioned above, whether or not I've been faithfully taking my anti-depressant medication.
I was thinking it would be neat to show graphically some of this behavior, bemoaning the impossibility of it when I remembered this. What you'll see if you click that link is a series of charts showing my activities on Twitter. Pretty dramatic increase for May. Now some of the increase over the last several months has been perfectly healthy use of Twitter. I enjoy it more than I used to. But, that jump in May had a lot more to do with sleep deprivation/hormones and the dreaded missed medications.
In fact, the past many months if examined closely would show surges of unhealthy levels of Internet activities as I was pregnant (hormonal and sleep deprived). It's also the case that almost every month, maybe every other, I just space refilling my prescription for Zoloft. So, a few days after realizing it I'm hitting myself on the forehead with an "aw, shit, watch out for me in 2-5 days, world!"
Some people, when they are feeling emotionally or mentally shaky will self-medicate with drugs, alcohol, food, sex, or any combination of those things. And with the exception of the alcohol/drug option, I'd say I lean in the distraction-to-numb direction too. My drug of choice most days, though, is the online life. And, for the most part, it is a harmless tool. Only when I drag other people into my nutsiness can it be problematic. I might maniacally share links which flood the Facebook newsfeed at all hours of the day and night. I might email friends 15-20 times a day. I might tweet every 2-3 minutes for large chunks of time, again, clogging the stream. Or, I might say chatchatchat with me now! Some of you reading this will recognize these behaviors.
But, with rare but notable exceptions, this method of coping is typically a victimless crime. A safe way to hold on to the leash of life and stay on the ride until things calm down. A way to escape the overwhelming feelings until I can function and manage again. And, as long as my offline life doesn't suffer from this maniacal behavior, it's a tool I'll likely use again.
Recently I made a big deal about the fact that I share a lot of personal information in my blogs, but that I don't often get authentically deeply open. With this post I feel I'm opening that door a bit. So many of you who read this will recognize my patterns either in yourselves or as witnesses of mine on Facebook or Twitter: there goes Heather/SereneBabe again! she's nuts with all the updates! or, where the heck is Heather/SereneBabe? she's usually all over the place here... (that question is asked of me when I approach "average" use of the 'net).
Before I was pregnant with Althea I did have some of these same graphable patterns. But this has truly been a train wreck of a ride, the last 9-10 months. I've seen in me behavior I thought long gone since the late 90s. Off the charts far too many times. The avoidance of life's normal stressors, and the infliction of my mental health issues on others around me, are both things I would regret if I believed in regret. (Don't believe in regret? No, I don't. I believe in acceptance and change through amends wherever possible. I also find most amends are best served by my discontinuing actions rather than performing some new action.)
I've written here and elsewhere about the issues of TMI. I do think some of my impassioned advocating for being more open with ourselves in public had a lot to do with distracting myself from the real issues I was facing: I was dead tired, physically wiped out, tackled by hormones, beyond irregular with my medication, and simply taking on too much at one time. A friend said today in an email to be patient, to remember that it takes a few days for the blood levels to get back to where they need to be (I just got the prescription refilled). Well, patience is precisely what leaves me when the med levels drop. So, here I am to blog all about it. I've been off the chart for sure in the past few days. But I see that with a relatively good night's sleep last night and one planned for tonight (Althea has finally become a strong enough nurser that a couple of our nighttime nursing sessions can be done from bed) combined with a rededication to taking that little pill every day without fail (ha!), I expect to be back down to a way bit higher than average, but perfectly normal and healthy 'net usage once again.
Now, I've got to go check FacebookTwitterGoogleReaderMotheringdotcommuneandFriendfeed before I go to sleep.
.
So I'm blubbering away, not even sure why. I just can't stop crying. Nothing has really changed in my life, but the sobs keep coming. As is my way, I began analyzing everything, certain if I identify the source I'll ease the pain.
I found lots of reasons for the tears. All perfectly reasonable. But, why now? These things (sleep deprivation, 8 week old baby + almost-six year old child + small business owner, feverish illness, confusions with friends) were true days ago. When I sat at the table in the kitchen of my parents' summer house crying, what had changed? I was sure I had the answer. And then I had the answer again (different one). And again.
Explaining it to Maya was also explaining it to my parents and to me: "I've had so many things going on and it's just built up and I need to let it out." She certainly needed to understand. I hope what I gave her helped. I know a crying parent can be a scary thing.
Later that day, though, it hit me. I hadn't taken my anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication regularly for a week and at all for three days. Say what you will about Zoloft and the like (and I could and would in a different post -- I think they are highly over-prescribed), but after 15 years with this medication I can testify that some of us actually do have misfiring synapses that need some bridge building.
But this post isn't really about medication, exactly. This is about online activities and behavior as a mirror into my mental health. When I saw this comic today
it occurred to me I could easily graph the relationship between my mental health and my online activities.When I say online activities I mean these things: anything Facebook related, Twitter, Google Reader, email, discussion groups like mothering.com, Google talk, YouTube, FriendFeed.
When I say my mental health I mean how much stress am I experiencing? Am I internally chaotic and, therefore, desperate for any distractions to keep me from myself? Or am I relatively serene, as SereneBabe of course prefers?
As you can see, if the image is clear enough, there is a direct correlation between my 'net activities and my mental health:
On the left you'll see the bracket showing the "range of reasonable, healthy activity" or "normal" behavior online. The range is pretty wide as some of us use online life pretty intensely even when it's perfectly healthy. Some email 100s of times a day to just as many people, some share links on end via Facebook or other social networking sites, some blog daily, etc. etc.
At the bottom of that bracket begins the line that runs across the graph indicating "average/typical online user behavior threshold/frequency." I'm not sure why my title has so many words when it just means, "regular people who aren't using the 'net as much as me and people I know," or, "average users." I think that line is around where the majority of 'net users are. They may check Facebook even every day for a few minutes, and they may use email for work a lot, but, in general, they would be puzzled at the notion of spending hours and hours online goofing around.
So then we come to my activities online relative to my mental health. That jagged solid line. This is not drawn to scale, obviously. (This makes me laugh because what would the scale be? A day? A week? A month? Several months?) What I've done is show a few examples of stress levels/mental instability and what happens to my online usage and behavior. The "time" label is sort of moot, really, I think I just put it there because it was on that little cartoon's graph.
Key indicators of rash, impulsive, childish, and even a little bit certifiably nuts behaviors include my level of sleep deprivation, hormone surges, and as I mentioned above, whether or not I've been faithfully taking my anti-depressant medication.
I was thinking it would be neat to show graphically some of this behavior, bemoaning the impossibility of it when I remembered this. What you'll see if you click that link is a series of charts showing my activities on Twitter. Pretty dramatic increase for May. Now some of the increase over the last several months has been perfectly healthy use of Twitter. I enjoy it more than I used to. But, that jump in May had a lot more to do with sleep deprivation/hormones and the dreaded missed medications.
In fact, the past many months if examined closely would show surges of unhealthy levels of Internet activities as I was pregnant (hormonal and sleep deprived). It's also the case that almost every month, maybe every other, I just space refilling my prescription for Zoloft. So, a few days after realizing it I'm hitting myself on the forehead with an "aw, shit, watch out for me in 2-5 days, world!"
Some people, when they are feeling emotionally or mentally shaky will self-medicate with drugs, alcohol, food, sex, or any combination of those things. And with the exception of the alcohol/drug option, I'd say I lean in the distraction-to-numb direction too. My drug of choice most days, though, is the online life. And, for the most part, it is a harmless tool. Only when I drag other people into my nutsiness can it be problematic. I might maniacally share links which flood the Facebook newsfeed at all hours of the day and night. I might email friends 15-20 times a day. I might tweet every 2-3 minutes for large chunks of time, again, clogging the stream. Or, I might say chatchatchat with me now! Some of you reading this will recognize these behaviors.
But, with rare but notable exceptions, this method of coping is typically a victimless crime. A safe way to hold on to the leash of life and stay on the ride until things calm down. A way to escape the overwhelming feelings until I can function and manage again. And, as long as my offline life doesn't suffer from this maniacal behavior, it's a tool I'll likely use again.
Recently I made a big deal about the fact that I share a lot of personal information in my blogs, but that I don't often get authentically deeply open. With this post I feel I'm opening that door a bit. So many of you who read this will recognize my patterns either in yourselves or as witnesses of mine on Facebook or Twitter: there goes Heather/SereneBabe again! she's nuts with all the updates! or, where the heck is Heather/SereneBabe? she's usually all over the place here... (that question is asked of me when I approach "average" use of the 'net).
Before I was pregnant with Althea I did have some of these same graphable patterns. But this has truly been a train wreck of a ride, the last 9-10 months. I've seen in me behavior I thought long gone since the late 90s. Off the charts far too many times. The avoidance of life's normal stressors, and the infliction of my mental health issues on others around me, are both things I would regret if I believed in regret. (Don't believe in regret? No, I don't. I believe in acceptance and change through amends wherever possible. I also find most amends are best served by my discontinuing actions rather than performing some new action.)
I've written here and elsewhere about the issues of TMI. I do think some of my impassioned advocating for being more open with ourselves in public had a lot to do with distracting myself from the real issues I was facing: I was dead tired, physically wiped out, tackled by hormones, beyond irregular with my medication, and simply taking on too much at one time. A friend said today in an email to be patient, to remember that it takes a few days for the blood levels to get back to where they need to be (I just got the prescription refilled). Well, patience is precisely what leaves me when the med levels drop. So, here I am to blog all about it. I've been off the chart for sure in the past few days. But I see that with a relatively good night's sleep last night and one planned for tonight (Althea has finally become a strong enough nurser that a couple of our nighttime nursing sessions can be done from bed) combined with a rededication to taking that little pill every day without fail (ha!), I expect to be back down to a way bit higher than average, but perfectly normal and healthy 'net usage once again.
Now, I've got to go check FacebookTwitterGoogleReaderMotheringdotcommuneandFriendfeed before I go to sleep.
.
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