Wow! I've been really busy doing book work. Haven't been posting here too much.
Hey, can I just say something really amazing that keeps happening to me? It seems lately, when I have a question in mind, the answer will pop up in strange places.
Today, the answer came on an email list that I belong to. I was curious how people remain detached from issues surrounding their children when they are healing from codependency. I was going to post to the list, when I read down all the way to the bottom, and this one member had sort of like a tagline that she put at the bottom of her email. It has to be new, because I have never seen it before. It said, "~Don't see your child as a blank slate awaiting your pen, but as a written book awaiting your study.~Max Lucado." Whoa!
Although that did help with some of the question, the meat of the question still remains...where do my rights end and my children's rights begin? Do I have the right to confiscate an MP3 player with music that is complete and total trash?
My son downloaded more music than he will ever live to listen to onto his iPod. Much of it was stuff he never even listens to. I was sitting at the computer the other day and his "side" was loaded. The screen contained his music list. Some of the titles were really out there. I asked him to come downstairs so we could discuss what I was seeing. One of the songs was by The Dead Kennedys. I don't even want to say what the title was, it was so offensive. When I played the song for him, he was shocked that this band would play such a song. He actually had a visceral reaction to it and almost threw up.
Let me just say, I have worked a lot on this with Kim, releasing my expectations of how my children "should" act, look, and behave. I have such a hard time with releasing these things and letting the kids be themselves.
My middle child, the same one as above, has a giant rebellious streak. He grows his hair long (and sometimes wears it in liberty spikes), dresses in lots of black clothes, and listens to strange music. It's hard for others to know who he is, because he shows this tough guy image, but he's a really nice kid. He tells me it's a "test" to see who his friends are.
I know I shouldn't worry. He's very well liked by classmates and many teachers. And his friends are really good kids. I guess I just feel the judgement of the other parents when they see him. Thank God his two best friend's parents know me. The one friend is the son of the neighborhood pediatrician, the other is the son of the pastor of a church. And these are the things I am working at letting go of...appearances.
But what of the iPod? The stuff that is directly affecting their hearts. I can deal with the superficial nonsense of the hair and the clothes, but what about what they see and watch every day? Our kids are exposed to so much today, and so fast, it's really alarming. It seems I can't even protect them from this stuff, it comes at us so fast. The two younger boys (15 and 13) have both already seen 'R' rated movies with their friends at sleepovers and parties.
So, back to the Lucado quote. I guess I'm fumbling with not trying to rewrite the characters, while trying to ensure that the book has a happy ending. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks guys!
Friday, January 25, 2008
Friday, January 4, 2008
Happy New Year!
Hey Anyone who is reading this!
Happy New Year, Merry Christmas, and all of the other good stuff I could wish you! I just figured I'd catch up on the past couple of weeks since I last posted.
My middle son is recovering very nicely after his back surgery, thanks for all of the prayers and well-wishes. He's my hero...he's been through so much this year, yet still maintains a positive outlook. What a kid!
Christmas Eve was spent with my parents at their Christmas Eve party. I don't understand why my mother hosts these things when all they do is stress her out. I've gotta tell you, her parties, from start to finish, usually are an enormous trigger for bringing up issues from my past. They always involve the cousin who sexually abused me, and they always involve drinking.
This year's party wasn't too much different, except I felt myself handling things better than I would have last year. I felt it begin the moment I received her invitation. She always sends it in her Christmas card to us. Here we go on the pity pot...why do I always get the crappy cards that she gets free from the Veteran's Association that look like they are about thirty years old? Other relatives speak of her beautiful Christmas Cards, but she saves the nasty ones for me. For years I thought she was just being thrifty and sent out the freebie cards to everyone. It even made me sad, thinking maybe she couldn't afford the nice cards. But visits with other relatives opened my eyes to what is going on. She is buying the nice cards for them and sending me the free ones that don't look so great. I tried not to let it bother me, but my self worth seems to be wrapped up in material things sometimes. Shouldn't it be enough, after all, that she remembered to send me one?
Anyway, the party went well. She argued about how much food was going to be wasted if people didn't eat. She was right...about fifteen pounds of cookies got chucked because there were too many. About three quarters of the way through the party, she had an allergic reaction to either the feta cheese or the balsamic vinaigrette on the pear salad. She refused to go to the emergency room, refused Benadryl, so I refused to pay any attention to the goings on. I figured if she fell to the ground, I'd call 911, but I wasn't going to stand there and watch her be a martyr and then insult the medical profession (yet again) that was trying to help her. And you know what? She didn't die, she was fine. Complained how my father did nothing to help her though.
Christmas afternoon, we went to my in-laws to visit, and that was good. My only trigger over there had to do with another childhood issue. My MIL bought my daughter used sheets at the thrift store where she works for her birthday, which was also this month. I can deal with used stuff, just not for birthdays or holidays.
It was triggering me because I never got new clothes when I was young. Everything was a hand me down. Thank God my very generous neighbor had taste that was in line with mine. My mom always shopped at the Nearly New store for me, but not for my sister. My sister refused to wear anything that wasn't new. Once, a girl at school said that I looked like I crawled out of the Salvation Army bin. I was mortified. I hated everything my mother brought home from that store after that. I remember the first Christmas I actually got a shirt that I had asked for. I was in eighth grade. It was a shiny white material and had a skinny light blue tie (it was the eighties, people). I wore that shirt at least twice a week until it didn't fit me anymore. Not only because I loved the shirt, but because I was taking it as a confirmation that I was loved by my mother. That she listened to me, and wanted me to be happy. And I wore it to reflect back the love that I was feeling, thanking her for finally proving how much she loved me. I think I'll always remember that shirt, if I live to be 100 years old.
So, this brings me to a question...how do you maintain a relationship with a parent that wants to have a relationship with you, but also wants to emotionally beat the crap out of you? I try to let this stuff go, because of times in my life like when she bought me the shirt, or the Barbie Perfume Maker, or the birthday card with the bubble bath inside for my sixth or seventh birthday (again with the material goods). There seems to be such an extreme in my thought pattern...she bought me a real birthday card...she loves me! She bought me a shirt in a size 22W...she loves me not! Does anyone else have this going on in their lives? The instability of not knowing whether you are truly loved? I had this a lot with my husband too before recovery. He didn't look at that supermodel...he loves me! He looked at porn while I was at work...he loves me not! This way of thinking used to define my relationship with God as well.
For now, I guess I have to treat it like I do with my husband, with boundaries and consequences. I just wish it didn't hurt so much.
On a very *light* note, I met our dear friend Lillian and her husband! What a great time my husband and I had. I must say, I had a strong suspicion it was her when I first saw her because she looked like I had envisioned, except curlier hair. There is a woman who works in our town that sounds a lot like Lillian, and every time I hear this woman speak, I think of Lil. The conversation was easy, the mood was light, the dessert was high in calories...it was awesome! And the company was fantastic!!! The time really flew by, though. Hope we can do it again very soon. And I hope they had a safe trip back to the Island and then back to Michigan.
So, for now, I want to leave you with a video that I love, by a band that I also love...peace and joy to all of us in 2008...
Happy New Year, Merry Christmas, and all of the other good stuff I could wish you! I just figured I'd catch up on the past couple of weeks since I last posted.
My middle son is recovering very nicely after his back surgery, thanks for all of the prayers and well-wishes. He's my hero...he's been through so much this year, yet still maintains a positive outlook. What a kid!
Christmas Eve was spent with my parents at their Christmas Eve party. I don't understand why my mother hosts these things when all they do is stress her out. I've gotta tell you, her parties, from start to finish, usually are an enormous trigger for bringing up issues from my past. They always involve the cousin who sexually abused me, and they always involve drinking.
This year's party wasn't too much different, except I felt myself handling things better than I would have last year. I felt it begin the moment I received her invitation. She always sends it in her Christmas card to us. Here we go on the pity pot...why do I always get the crappy cards that she gets free from the Veteran's Association that look like they are about thirty years old? Other relatives speak of her beautiful Christmas Cards, but she saves the nasty ones for me. For years I thought she was just being thrifty and sent out the freebie cards to everyone. It even made me sad, thinking maybe she couldn't afford the nice cards. But visits with other relatives opened my eyes to what is going on. She is buying the nice cards for them and sending me the free ones that don't look so great. I tried not to let it bother me, but my self worth seems to be wrapped up in material things sometimes. Shouldn't it be enough, after all, that she remembered to send me one?
Anyway, the party went well. She argued about how much food was going to be wasted if people didn't eat. She was right...about fifteen pounds of cookies got chucked because there were too many. About three quarters of the way through the party, she had an allergic reaction to either the feta cheese or the balsamic vinaigrette on the pear salad. She refused to go to the emergency room, refused Benadryl, so I refused to pay any attention to the goings on. I figured if she fell to the ground, I'd call 911, but I wasn't going to stand there and watch her be a martyr and then insult the medical profession (yet again) that was trying to help her. And you know what? She didn't die, she was fine. Complained how my father did nothing to help her though.
Christmas afternoon, we went to my in-laws to visit, and that was good. My only trigger over there had to do with another childhood issue. My MIL bought my daughter used sheets at the thrift store where she works for her birthday, which was also this month. I can deal with used stuff, just not for birthdays or holidays.
It was triggering me because I never got new clothes when I was young. Everything was a hand me down. Thank God my very generous neighbor had taste that was in line with mine. My mom always shopped at the Nearly New store for me, but not for my sister. My sister refused to wear anything that wasn't new. Once, a girl at school said that I looked like I crawled out of the Salvation Army bin. I was mortified. I hated everything my mother brought home from that store after that. I remember the first Christmas I actually got a shirt that I had asked for. I was in eighth grade. It was a shiny white material and had a skinny light blue tie (it was the eighties, people). I wore that shirt at least twice a week until it didn't fit me anymore. Not only because I loved the shirt, but because I was taking it as a confirmation that I was loved by my mother. That she listened to me, and wanted me to be happy. And I wore it to reflect back the love that I was feeling, thanking her for finally proving how much she loved me. I think I'll always remember that shirt, if I live to be 100 years old.
So, this brings me to a question...how do you maintain a relationship with a parent that wants to have a relationship with you, but also wants to emotionally beat the crap out of you? I try to let this stuff go, because of times in my life like when she bought me the shirt, or the Barbie Perfume Maker, or the birthday card with the bubble bath inside for my sixth or seventh birthday (again with the material goods). There seems to be such an extreme in my thought pattern...she bought me a real birthday card...she loves me! She bought me a shirt in a size 22W...she loves me not! Does anyone else have this going on in their lives? The instability of not knowing whether you are truly loved? I had this a lot with my husband too before recovery. He didn't look at that supermodel...he loves me! He looked at porn while I was at work...he loves me not! This way of thinking used to define my relationship with God as well.
For now, I guess I have to treat it like I do with my husband, with boundaries and consequences. I just wish it didn't hurt so much.
On a very *light* note, I met our dear friend Lillian and her husband! What a great time my husband and I had. I must say, I had a strong suspicion it was her when I first saw her because she looked like I had envisioned, except curlier hair. There is a woman who works in our town that sounds a lot like Lillian, and every time I hear this woman speak, I think of Lil. The conversation was easy, the mood was light, the dessert was high in calories...it was awesome! And the company was fantastic!!! The time really flew by, though. Hope we can do it again very soon. And I hope they had a safe trip back to the Island and then back to Michigan.
So, for now, I want to leave you with a video that I love, by a band that I also love...peace and joy to all of us in 2008...
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