Parenting Questions, Trust and Honesty (Attempt at Self-Therapy).

Hello, dear friends,
Today I have a day off, - a day to relax, think and feel whatever I want, do (almost) what I want, without being rushed.
During the past week, I finished a stitching project and started a new one. (Sorry, no pictures at this time). Went on the "work-home- stuff to do-things to clean- things to stitch" merry-go-around. Today is the day I can get off and reclaim some of myself.

I am sitting here, thinking that I need a strong cup of tea - possibly with milk - and wondering: am I a good parent? My partner of 13 years "dropped" this on me (about our separation), and it stuck: "As for the kids being happy, yeah, they're happy, no more of having rules, mom turned into their best friend, I am sure it will all turn out fine, unless one day you actually make them be responsible for something."

While my first reaction was to consider the source - look who's talking, some example of stellar parenting, look at your own sons etc., etc.... But - it did bring up one question: am I a good parent - or not? How do I know?

In the past four months, I had to say "no" more times than I said "yes" to my daughters, and often they got upset. They are teenagers, and teenagers don't like to hear the word "no." Well, nobody does, really. But adults - hopefully - have the strength and the skills to control their emotions, while teenagers often show you all they've got - all the upset, anger, disappointment - and all the other negative feelings they have had stored, and you get to be the unfortunate recipient of all that garbage - because you said no. Surprisingly, I have had strength enough (sometimes barely) to deal with those tantrums. I was strong and unwavering: "No, you cannot get a new dress. No, there will be no going to any sleepover until after the chores are done, the laundry is put away, the homework is finished..."

Yet, at times I said "yes." Yes, you can walk home with a friend. Yes, you can stay after school for practice. Yes, we can go out to Subway - at the end of the week... And occasionally, I even changed my "no" to a "yes" - because the chores actually got done...

But parenting is not just the list of "yes" and "no" answers, is it? Things could look wonderful and perfect (or near perfect) on the outside, and yet there still would be problems...  Just look at Mia from "Californication" : a perfectly well-behaved 16 year old girl, a respectful daughter- who also happens to be... a slut and a manipulator. Yet, her father is blissfully unaware.

I know that my daughters are far from perfect. I am aware that one of them is arrogant, the other could be lazy. But it is up to me to stay alert and to notice when these "bad" qualities rare their heads - and point it out to each one of them as effectively as possible. Does it work? I can only hope. Just like I can only hope that I am doing a decent job at this whole "parenting" thing. In the end, time will tell. Some five, six, or ten years from now, when I look at my daughters, I will get my answer - probably in a single moment. Until then, I will have to wait for that moment as patiently as I can, and do the best job as I can.

One thing I have (I believe) on my side is honesty: I have never knowingly lied to my children. And in return, they don't lie to me. OK, they lie - about things like feeling sick so they can skip school, - but not about the big, important things. (Right now I am thinking - boy I wish that what I am writing is actually true, and not my own delusion). Well, at the very least - I know they trust me with real problems. There have been times when one or the other - or both of them - came to me for advice when they did not know what to do, how to handle things, or "just to talk" (which usually means the problem is bigger than just "what to do" and may require a few cups of tea with cookies - just to start discussing). I think - I believe - this trust between us is the direct result of mutual honesty.

This, of course, does not mean that I am certain of anything, or know what I am doing, or "permanently comfortable" with my decisions or actions. Every decision involves questions, doubts, and often - after making it - the "after"-doubts: did I make this one right? Could I do it better? I try my best to be honest with myself, so that when I do make a mistake, next time - hopefully - I can avoid it.

This brings me to the (hopefully) last topic of this post - trust. Trust is built on honesty like a house built on a foundation. If there is no honesty - there will be no trust. There may be an illusion of it, but the truth eventually comes out, lies get exposed - and the whole house crumbles and falls apart - and then you discover that there is no foundation, - there is no honesty. So, when my partner says, "I know I lied in the past, but trust me, I will not do it again!" - I can't. In fact, I can't even process it. How can you demand that I just build this "house" of trust with no foundation? It's just not possible.

Honesty - with others and with oneself - is the most important quality of them all. Being honest with myself - for me- means knowing what the truth is - and being able to face it, admit it, say it to myself. If I am not honest with myself, how do I even know what is the truth - and what is not? So, when someone says to me, "I lied to myself for the past (x-number of) years, but I want you to trust me, because I am getting better" - I think, "I am glad that you are starting to work on that, but if you have been lying to yourself for so long, how do you even know when you are telling the truth?" In this state of mind (I suspect), one is capable of believing anything: if one believes it, it must be the truth. And if one chooses not to believe it - then poof! - it never even existed. Magic...

Trust is the direct result of honesty. There are people out there that I do not particularly like, but I would trust them with my life - because they have always been honest with me. Then again, there are people I may like very much, but as much as I like them, I know not to trust them - because they lied.

Now that I have typed my brains out, it's time for a cup of tea...

Until next time,

A Home Within

Hello, dear friends,

Once again, it has been a while. All the life changes have taken me away from this blog and from sharing. Most of my days are filled with job search, interviews, online and paper applications, and talking to various workers. Add to that public bus system to rely on, stitching at night and on weekends, plus cleaning and cooking - and you have the picture. A swirl of new experiences...

On May 1st, it will be three months since my husband and I separated. All the news - and changes that come with it - hit me all at once, so I had to focus on immediate survival needs first. My soul went into shock, and every time I wanted to think about what happened - and what I learned - the voice inside my head would say, "Not now, a little later, when the basics are out of the way." I did not cry - or, at least, not in plain view. Occasionally, I would start tearing up in the shower - but those "waterfalls" did not last long. I would not let myself dwell on "all that" because, frankly, I was afraid to come unglued. I suspected that, once I started "addressing" everything that went on, I would start crying, screaming, cursing, and  then - who knows when I would stop... Nervous breakdowns need to be handled in a controlled atmosphere, such as the therapist's office, mental health clinic etc... Coming unglued in the middle of a work day - or a job interview - is not beneficial to anyone.

Eventually, I found a good therapist. I expected for things to start pouring out of me, but - they did not. I still have not cried, although sometimes I felt like it. Perhaps, my body does not want to switch from "defense" mode - after all, I don't know that person very well yet, it has only been - what? - two weeks.. He is just another guy with an opinion. So, even reactions to his suggestions are delayed; I noticed that I would say, " I will think about it," store his suggestion somewhere in the back of my mind, and then, about 24-48 hours later, my actual response would start forming... Sometimes it's as simple as "you've got a point," other times my response is "mind your own business." I know one thing: if I make any permanent changes to my situation, it will come from me, and I will do it if and when I am ready.. (Currently, it feels like "when" rather than "if", but I am certainly going to take it one step at a time - because in the end, I am the one who will have to deal with the consequences).

One realization has hit me through the whole experience: in all this, I am all alone. Especially I feel it when people tell me that I can rely on them, that I am not alone, that I have support. Don't get me wrong, I do have support and help - from Social Services programs, from the Job Center, from my therapist, - and I am grateful. I get professional help. On a personal level, though, I am a lone warrior. And it feels like in this aspect, I am different from anyone else I know.

Most of my "friends" and acquaintances - here in town - have family and friends. That means, if the proverbial shit hits the fan and they feel they can't deal with life any more at some particular moment - they have a safe place to go to. If life gets to be too much, they can hide from it. Not me. I don't have a place like that in my life, come to think of that, I am not sure I ever had. Last time I felt I could "go somewhere safe" was when I was about 3 years old, and the place was (of course) Grandma's. Since then, I have felt on my own. There is no unconditional love in my life; I may feel it (for my children, although I try not to get carried away), but I doubt anyone feels it for me. If I "lose my cool," no one will run to the rescue. If they do, they will have their own - often deeply hidden - reasons. "When the rabbit cries, the fox comes a-running - but not to help."

Perhaps, that is one single reason I keep myself together: I know that deep inside, nobody really cares. The people that do care - my children - will get affected by my "meltdown" in such a way that may be irreparable.. and it won't help anyone, especially not me.

I am alone, and that is a fact. I don't have a home - I live in a house, but it's not mine, and has never been. Most importantly - I don't have a safe place in this world, a place to call home. On the inside, I am homeless. And that is, unfortunately, also a fact.

Perhaps, when I am ready, I can start working on building that safe place for myself - on the inside, and (who knows?) - on the outside, too. It's all a process.. One step at a time.

Until next time,

Day Two and Three and the Good Old Days

Hello, dear friends,
For the past couple of days, I have been stitching on the "Twelve Days of Christmas." This is where I was on it two days ago.

The picture does not do the colors justice. I blame the weather: it's so gloomy and cloudy... And when I take a picture without a flash, it looks like it's been taken in the dungeon; when I use the flash - it wants to "flash out" everything to bright whites.

Here's one of the "dungeon" photos. I am stitching this with three threads over two, using Nancy Turner's home dyed threads.

Over the past week, I have also been listening to books: "Breakfast of Champions" and "Help". Each book is mind expanding in its own way. I keep thinking about the phrase "the good old days": "In the good old days, we used to..."  Or, "Those were the good old days!" I don't think that "the good old days" ever actually existed. Every year, every day in history past and present is filled with so many events, most of them are disturbing and troubling. The only place "the good old days" exist is in our minds. The more open our minds are, the less comforting the world feels.

A few days ago, I spent the whole day stitching and listening to an audio book. Nothing else existed but the project and the book... It was very comfortable. I only accepted what I chose to accept, believed what I chose to believe. Anything I did not want to exist, did not. And it was so pleasant... No worries, no troubles. No questions...

That is how it must be for someone with a closed mind. When you believe only what you choose to, know exactly how things are - and don't feel you need any additional information. You know everything you want to know. Nothing else in the world matters.

Next day, though, I had to get back to reality. I found out that on my very comfortable "good old" day, several things happened. First, David Bowie passed away. One of my friends is getting a divorce. The package I sent out got lost in the mail, and the kitchen sink got over full with dishes.

But, until I chose to learn of these things, my day was perfect. My life was perfect. I think our comfort in life depends on our level of acceptance of things. The more we accept, the more we learn - the more troubling our existence becomes. That is why life for an open minded, educated person is so much more complicated than for a closed minded one. It's a matter of choice, I suppose. And a matter of influence. How many things that go wrong are in our control to correct?

After two hours of frantic phone calls, I was able to locate the package and verify that it's on its way to the recipient. I washed the dishes and straightened up my kitchen... But David Bowie is dead. And my friend is still getting a divorce. I have to keep reminding myself that it's not my battle, not my problem. There is nothing I can do, and even if I could, it's not my place. Not my battle.

Kurt Vonnegut's "Cat's Cradle" is the next on my listening list. I can only imagine what kind of thoughts it will inspire.

Until next time,