Cross Post: This Is What A Mommy Looks Like

(This was originally posted today on my Other Blog, but I thought it should go on my mommyblog too since it's, well, about being a mommy. Sorry if you're seeing this twice in your Google Reader or Bloglines!)

I'm not really sure why we have such a fancy-pants mirror hanging in our foyer. Plus, Ted's got it hung so high, I have to stand on my tippy toes to get any use out of it. Hmmm. Looks like it could use some cleaning...

Well, speaking of mirrors, I've been doing a bit of self-reflecting on my parenting habits lately. As I've mentioned recently, being a mommy has been hard these days. We've been waiting over two years for the Terrible Two's to end for Cadence, and we find ourselves in a corner, having to reevaluate how we relate to her. I don't think we've TOTALLY f*cked up, but I do feel justified in mourning the missed opportunities to do the things that would have establisthed trust and love and connection, rather than exhibiting our need to control as parents. And it's not like I don't know better since I've read so many books in the unconditional, peaceful parenting vein, but then again I DON'T know, at least not in the deep, non-book acquired non-cerebral sense of the word.

When we decided a LONG time ago that we didn't want to raise Cadence to believe that she had to behave a certain way for us to love her, I didn't realize how hard it would be to let go of my own experiences of the way I was parented--not only by my parents, but by society at large. I didn't realize how much I would care what others thought about Cadence and our parenting skills, so much so that I would try (usually unsuccessfully) to exert a semblance of control over my child in public because that's what we as parents are expected to do in our culture: control the fruit of thy womb lest thou suffer the universal disdain and judgment of all polite society.

It's amazing how much damage you are subconsciously willing to do to your child to avoid being labeled as a bad parent. I've cared so much about what other people think that I've neglected who Cadence is and what HER needs are. She is indeed a Wild Thing, but she does NOT respond well to methods such as being sent to her room without any supper (a reference to the the book; not something I've actually ever done). There are children who modify their behavior as a result of punitive measures (at least in the short run), and then there are children like Cadence. I know deep in my heart that punishments will do her absolutely no "good," not even in the short run. People may think that's because I don't punish her long or hard enough. While I entertain the possibility that through brute force I can eventually break her spirit so that I can make a meek, obedient child out of her, please tell me why the f*ck would I want to do that?

So the truth I see in all this is that Cadence is NOT an out-of-control, "spoiled rotten" and manipulative child. She may APPEAR that way to folks who have certain preconceived notions on how a "good" child behaves, but that is not who she is, and I know that. The truth is that I am afraid to let her be her aunthentic self because of my own fears about what others think of us and because of my own ideas of how I want my child to behave. And there's that f*cking word again. BEHAVE. Why the hell are we all so obsessed w/ OUTWARD BEHAVIOR???!!!

(I realize I'm rambling here, so I feel the need to insert a photo to justify the length of this post. It's almost 4 in the morning, I haven't had real sleep since Friday night, etc. etc. etc. blah blah blah and why the heck am I apologizing on my own blog?)

Here's the thing. I don't want Cadence to be a puppet. I don't even WANT her to fit the definition of "good" that most people hold when it comes to children--obedient, quiet when told to be quiet, never prone to emotional outbursts, sits quietly at their desks and raises their hands to be called on in school, stands when told to stand, sits when told to sit. I don't want Cadence to ever fit THAT mold of "goodness," especially if it's out of fear that I won't love her unless she complies or out of fear of being punished. I DO want her to feel safe with us, her parents, to be who she is, even when that means exhibitions of strong, explosive feelings from time to time. I DO want her to feel that her opinions matter, even if they defy laws of [adult] logic. I DO want her to expect to be treated with dignity and respect regardless of her age and size.

The REAL truth about Cadence is that she is so much more honest and authentic than I am. She does not hide her emotions, be they frolicksome or furious or forlorn. Nor does she hide her true opinions and wishes. She is creative, a connoisseur of fun, full of boundless energy and can out-dance just about anyone at a wedding reception. She is also caring and affectionate and devoted to her friends. She sees the best in people and is full of optimism.

And the REAL truth about myself is that I'm proud of her and wouldn't want to change any of that.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

For those of you who worry that this means I'm going to let Cadence do whatever she wants whenever she wants wherever she wants, please rest assured that this will not be the case. However, I do plan on changing the way I react to Cadence when she doesn't get what she wants (which usually results in high pitched shrieks that would make a dog cringe). If I have the presence of mind to apply what I know and believe by validating her feelings without judgement and by responding with gentleness and love, she usually responds much more positively than when I exhibit disapproval or try to change her. Old habits are hard to break, and unfortunately, I've been programmed from my own upbringing to try to control outward behavior (in myself and in my child) rather than to embrace authenticity.

And in case you're wondering, I'm currently reading Naomi Aldort's Raising Our Children, Raising Ourselves.

Truthiness Tuesday--The Unpainted Me

There's a new Flickr group called Self-Portrait Truthiness and it's all about posting photos of ourselves in our bare skin. The idea brought back memories of my dad who was not a fan of make-up and who would always emphasize the importance of cultivating inner beauty, and not focusing on what I looked like on the outside. I have to admit that at the time, all I could think about was that all my friends got to wear make-up and I didn't and how I couldn't wait to be old enough to do what I wanted so I could wear some damn eye-liner and lipstick.

So I grew up to be the type of person who wouldn't go out in public without doing her makeup. I remember going camping with a bunch of my friends in my mid-twenties, and early in the morning, I was sitting at a picnic table looking into a mirror and curling my lashes, and I could sense some of my friends staring at me, and I declared, "Don't judge me." When I went on a week-long canoe trip w/ my friend John, he forbade me from wearing makeup on the trip, the thought of which horrified me at the time, but I think I managed to sneak in my eyelash curler.

Now that I'm a mother, I'm coming to terms with the values regarding outward beauty that I want to pass on to Cadence, which are surprisingly similar to what my dad tried to convey to me, although I won't forbid her from wearing makeup if that's what she chooses. This means that I will have to become comfortable in my own bare skin, so that she sees that you can be beautiful and feel beautiful without the aid of cosmetics or the latest fashions.

Honestly, I think that some of the most beautiful women I've ever seen are those who don't wear any makeup, even if their faces are weathered and wrinkled. If I can acknowledge the beauty and grace in the pure naked faces of other women, surely I can do the same for myself.

Seven Weird Things About Moi

The lovely Tracey Clark has tagged me for the "7 weird things about me" meme. I have to admit I really had to think about this one because I'm quite boring. I mean, yeah, I'm plenty WEIRD, but it's really BORING weird, not INTERESTING weird. Here's what I've come up with, at any rate. Oh, and I'm including seven weird photos as a bonus.

1. I grew up in a fundamentalist evangelical-wannabe cult called University Bible Fellowship. You can read more about that shenanigan here and here. That's probably the most profoundly and absolutely weirdest thing about me.

2. I have no tolerance for violence in movies or TV. It's not a MORAL thing. It's more like I-hit-the-floor-and-cover-my-head-lest-the bullets/demons/knives-fly-off-the- screen-right-at-me kind of thing. When we were kids, one of our favorite shows was Barnaby Jones. I used to run out of the room regularly during that show to avoid even the possibility of witnessing someone getting punched in the nose.

3. Growing up, my family subscribed religiously to Time Magazine. I read just about every issue almost cover to cover, BUT, and here's the weird part, I always started with the last page. To this day, if I happen to come across a copy of Time, I turn to the last page first. I think it must be my total lack of tolerance for any type of suspense.

4. I can't eat yellow bananas. They have to be at least slightly green, or I can't stand the taste. For this reason, numerous bananas are left to turn black in our home. Which is okay because then Ted makes banana bread which I really like.

5. I've been with the same company for 12 years. Apparently, this is considered weird by some of my peers. Fortunately, I really like the folks I work with, I LOVE my boss, and I'm treated really well there.

6. I can't read non-fiction without falling asleep unless it's about parenting, a memoir, biography or historical in nature. This posed a problem to my educational success, as most of the required reading (except for history and Englist Lit) would fall into the category of non-fiction that I just couldn't get through. I have no idea how I got through college, let alone grad school.

7. I have this thing about taking photos of people's shoes, especially when I'm at a rock show. It's not a fetish or anything, just one of my quirks.

Now it's time to tag some folks, so I tag the following and whoever else wants to join in:

Leigh (Mere Mortal)
Christina (Momology)
Maya (Laurent Files)
Amy Geekgrl (Crunch Domestic Goddess)
Paige (Look Away)

This happens to be a "Links Around the World" meme, so if you participate, add your blog link to the end of the list on your own post (I copied and pasted the code from the View Source to get all the links).

Link Addiction ~ Ardour of the Heart ~ When Life Becomes a Book ~ The Malaysian Life ~ Yogatta.com ~ What goes under the sun ~ Roshidan’s Cyber Station ~ Sasha says ~ Arts of Physics ~ And the legend lives ~ My View, My Life ~ A Simple Life ~ Juliana RW ~ Mom Knows Everything ~ Beth & Cory’s Mom ~ A Mind Forever Voyaging~ enjoying the ride ~ Jennifer’s thoughts ~ Mom of 3 Girls ~ Amanda ~ Don’t Make Me Get The Flying Monkeys ~ ExPat Mom ~ Just Jessie ~ Wilson Six ~Krisitn ~ Nuttier Than You ~ Shonnte ~ Summer’s Nook ~ Laura Williams Musings ~ Sher ~ Shanda ~ Seven QTPies ~ Mel ~ Skittles ~ Lady Banana ~ Momhood Moments ~ Business Mars ~ A Simple life ~ moms….. check nyo ~ Mommy’s Little Corner ~ Pampered ~ HappyHeart ~ Make Every Day Your Lucky Day ~ Thumbelina Creations ~ Ivonnardona's Creations ~ Jewellery Craft ~ A Bead a Day~ Useless Ramblings ~Candid Yammering ~ Green Eyed Mama ~ Mother May I ~ Shutterbug Mama

How to Dismantle Fear

I recently saw this on my beloved inspiration Jen Lemen's Flickr stream, and it hit me like a timely prophetic word. Dismantle Fear. DISMANTLE. FEAR. Yes, THAT is what I need to do. Take apart my fears one by one, render them powerless in my life. And maybe in doing so gain some hiddens morsels of insight as to who I am and where these fears have grown from and how to transplant courage and hope and trust and joy into those places where fear once had its roots.

Obviously, this will be no overnight task. You see, I am a woman of many fears. Spending your most formative years in a fundamentalist cult, being hurt in ways no child should ever be hurt, failing at relationships that you thought would last forever, watching your dad waste away before your very eyes. These are things that tend to plant seeds of fear in a person, seeds that eventually grow into stubborn weeds.

Well, I've started my personal process of Dismantling Fear, and I've decided to begin with the Fear of Not Being Worthy Of the Company I Keep. The lovely and talented Tracey of Mother May I presented me with the perfect opportunity to do this by inviting me to contribute to a new online community blog of women photographers called Shutter Sisters. When I looked at the list of amazing women who had already joined forces with Tracey, my first reaction was, "There's no way I'm good enough to be one of them. I'm just a cheesy mommyblogger!" I began my email to decline Tracey's offer. But then I realized that I have avoided being a part of anything that would potentially push my limits a bit and maybe, just maybe, make me GROW a little. I've always been so afraid of not being good enough. And yet, I knew from reading the blogs of these women that while they are intimidatingly talented, they are also kind and supportive and encouraging. So I said Yes to Tracey! And now I'm a Shutter Sister!

I am giddy with the prospects of collaborating with these women and other Shutter Sisters from all over the world, cyber and real. Please check us out! Better yet, join us!

This One's for Modrá J.

This little photo is for Modrá J. He'll understand. No one else has to.

"Now--here is my secret: I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever achieve again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words. My secret is that I need God--that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.

I walk deeper and deeper into the rushing water. My testicles pull up into myself. the water enters my belly button and it freezes my chest, my arms, my neck. It reaches my nouth, my nose, my ears and the roar is so loud--this roar, this clapping of hands.

These hands--the hands that heal; the hands that hold; the hands we desire because they are better than desire.

I submerge myself in the pool completely. I grab my knees and I forget gravity and I float within the pool and yet, even here, I hear the roar of water, the roar of clapping hands.

These hands--the hands that care, the hands that mold; the hands that touch the lips, the lips that speak the words--the words that tell us we are whole."--From Life After God by Douglas Coupland, 1994.

(I've had this post as a draft from Sept. 30th. I thought now would be a good time to post it. I added the quote today because I had just reread it a couple days ago, and I love that passage so very much. It's part of my unraveling, just a little bit. Know that you are loved, Modrá.)