Why Sometimes It’s Okay to Not Like Your Kids

Whoahh okay, before you all jump down my throat about the title let me be clear about something: I DO NOT hate my children. Far from it! I LOVE them more than I could describe in words. Any mom would agree with me that the love for our children is unmatched. BUT, sometimes those precious little humans we birthed can be little you-know-whats, (starts with an “s” to clue you in a little). Also, every mom on the planet can agree with me on that one!

The thing is, kids have no filter whatsoever, and can be so cruel without even trying. So, most of the time when they want to say something it just comes out with little to no thought behind it. Like my four-year-old son who, no matter where we are, will declare for whoever is within earshot that he’s farted. Or my eight-year-old daughter who when she saw my newly chopped hair immediately said “I HATE it Mom.” Sure makes a girl feel good about herself am I right?

When I was a new mom I remember holding my son and trying to imagine ever putting him in time-out or actually yelling at him. Oh boy was I naive! Of course when they’re tiny and can’t really talk yet it’s impossible to see what little monsters they can become as a toddler. Yes, the terrible 2’s are real my friend. As are the terrible 3’s, 4’s, 5’s, and so on. Every age has begun a new phase of parenting, and they’ve all had positives and negatives to them.

No matter what stage of parenthood you’re in though, it’s all just plain hard. Being a parent is THE hardest job in the world, but on the flip side also the most rewarding. When my husband Jess and I decided we were ready to start a family we had no clue how hard it really would be, I mean no one does, but we knew we were ready to try our best and to do it together.

Today was just a hard day for me as a mom. It happens to everyone. It got so spectacularly emotional for me that I needed to leave the house tonight by myself and just have some alone time. I went and sat by my mom’s graveside and had myself a good ugly cry. My husband gracefully finished dinner with the kids, cleaned up, and they all were ready with hugs and “sorry’s” when I came back. What happened you ask?

Well, first off, I was exhausted from a terrible night of sleep. The aforementioned flatulent four-year-old has a terrible habit of coming into our bed at night that we just cannot break. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he HAS to be on top of me, usually on my face. I have nicknamed him the “face hugger” which is a nod to the movie ‘Alien’ for those of you who don’t get the reference. So, starting off my Monday tired was not good.

We also are currently packing for our move to Nashville which has been no small feat. I am already stressed up to my eyeballs about that, and our house looks like a literal bomb went off because of it. Clutter and disorder in my living space really throws me off mentally too, so add that to the list. Also, my husband is leaving for Nashville this Friday with our first moving truck. He will be gone for several weeks and when he’s gone I tend to be extra emotional and vulnerable.

Then, when the big kids got home from school the mom-shaming began. And no, it’s not the same as mom-to-mom shaming. This is straight from the mouths of the babes you gave birth to telling you how crappy of a job you’re doing. Oh, they’re so sweet when they can’t talk yet, but once they can form sentences they also form little opinions, grudges, picket lines, committees, and okay I’m exaggerating juuuuust a bit. Once they can, your kids will judge you for everything! Your clothes, hair, makeup, how you drive, what you watch, your music, your cooking, how you talk, I mean this list is endless. Basically nothing is safe from them, and you are forced to take a good, hard look at yourself from the perspective of a ruthless child.

So, I actually got dressed today! Woo! What’s the big deal, right? Well, on a normal day I usually am never in anything but workout clothes or comfy T-shirt’s and sweats at home. But today, despite being tired I actually got up and went to the gym in the morning! I usually do go, but never until the afternoon because I’m too tired and unmotivated. So, since I was done early I went home and showered and got dressed in a decent shirt and jeans. My oldest son, when he saw me said:

“Where are you going?”

To which I replied:

“Nowhere, why?”

To which he replied:

“Oh, you are just usually never dressed up.”

Dressed up?! You’re joking, right? This ain’t dressed up honey, but this momma is allowed to actually put some effort into herself even if she isn’t going to go anywhere!

Granted, my son didn’t mean for his words to shame me, but I really was offended by it! So silly right? But it’s not! We as moms should not feel like just because we may spend a majority of our time at home, that we have to dress accordingly. There really is no “mom uniform”! Yes, most days gym clothes are what’s best for me, and that is GREAT. But today I felt like putting on makeup and doing my hair on a weekday and that’s okay too!

From there, it all just went downhill.The two oldest could not agree on anything it seemed. A game they were playing ended in tears because one wasn’t “playing fair”. Then building of forts turned into a battle of who was getting the most blankets which also ended in tears.

I was making spaghetti for dinner which should be easy right? WRONG. One kid doesn’t like spaghetti but she loves sauce, another one loves the noodles but no sauce, and the third? Well, he ate everything without complaint (bless him!). But the two who were complaining just wouldn’t let it go. So as I’m making a meal all I’m hearing is whining whining and more whining. THEN the same two children started fighting in the other room as I’m cooking. I listened for a few moments hoping they would work it out, but is soon escalated to hitting and crying so I intervened. I sent them both to their respective rooms and maybe raised my voice a little more than was necessary. My oldest son on his way out stopped, looked me in the eyes and said:

“I always knew you hated me.”

Whoah. Okay first of all, not even a little true! But no, you know what, it’s a little true right now. I love you so much son, but right now I don’t really like you and how you’re choosing to act…… is what I SHOULD have said to him. Instead, I stayed silent and kept making dinner, praying for bedtime to come quickly.

Dinner was no better with the bad behavior. By the end of it, I slammed my plates in the sink, grabbed my car keys and purse and headed for the garage. My husband knew what was happening and told me he would handle it.

My kids love me, but sometimes they have a crappy way of showing it! Kids tend to not realize how hurtful they are, until it’s too late. But that’s what we need to make sure to teach them so they are aware of what’s okay and not okay to say and do.

Sometimes I feel so beat up as a mom like I’m some sort of mommy punching bag. That’s where I was last night. When these times come and I feel myself spiraling down it’s okay to step back and take a few moments for myself. We mom’s are doing the hardest job in the world: raising little humans to be loving and good adults! It’s not an easy business and sometimes I just DO NOT like my clients, and you know what, it’s okay!

XoXo,

Heather

The Raw Brunette

The Value of a Woman

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This afternoon I sat on the soft leather sofa in my therapists office, and she was asking me what I valued most in life. I immediately listed off what felt to me like the normal things: my husband, my kids, my family, my friends, my work (helping others), and my beliefs. I felt like I was done and was silently read over the list. There was a brief pause as she turned and looked at me.

“Anything else?”

“Well,” I hesitated, “can I put myself up there?”

“Heather, you should be up at the top of this list!”

She went on to discuss with me why I didn’t add myself to the list initially. I honestly wanted to add it, but decided against it because I felt like it sounded selfish. So, the question is: why did I feel selfish to value myself?

Of course I KNOW I have value, but it has bothered me all day since my appointment why that played out the way it did. Why wouldn’t I consider myself just as valuable as everything else on my list? I have been trying to peel away the onion layers of this, and although there’s still so much to understand, I think I’m on the right track.

Fake News

From a young age, girls are bombarded by the “standards of beauty”. I remember staring at the half-dressed emaciated models on the covers of magazines at checkout stands around age 6 and thinking they looked strange, but as a teenager those women suddenly became who I wanted to be and look like.

So, when I was an awkward teen in middle school, the Delia’s magazine was huge, (anyone else remember this? Or does this totally age me?). I remember scoring through its pages coveting all the clothes inside. I felt like such a loser because I didn’t have the clothes, but also because I wasn’t tall and super skinny like the models. This was during the time when my mom was hospitalized with her terminal cancer, so even was she was home, she was not able to help me with makeup and clothes. I was often depressed and some days just flat out hated myself because I didn’t feel like I was beautiful since I didn’t fit these standards.

I will give the fashion industry credit. Things have come a long way since then, but it’s still bad. With the added sources of social media, it seems that “fashion FOMO” and body issues are even worse now. I don’t want my daughter to feel like I did, but I know that navigating that with how many sources of content there are today is going to be rough.

But WHO decided that these are the set standards? I would like to have some cross words with them, or maybe just punch them in the throat for good measure. There shouldn’t be one set of these ridiculous “beauty standards” simply because not every woman is the same. The fact that everyone is different makes this world beautiful. Being the same as everyone else is not.

Me, Too

I know you’re all familiar with this campaign that went viral just a few weeks ago. It was heartbreaking to see how many women, (and men),  I know who posted the status. I am very sad to say I am also among those who posted it. I was sexually assaulted by a guy I knew my freshman year of college and when I tried to report it, I was threatened by not only him but his friends and people who I thought were my friends. He was on a football scholarship, and this could potentially “ruin his career”. It was a hot pile of garbage is what it was. Rape culture at it’s finest.

Recently Hollywood seems to be imploding with the scandals of Bill Cosby, Harvey Weinstein, Casey Affleck, Louis C.K, and many others I’m sure that will come out who have all raped or sexually assaulted women. There is one thing in common with all these stories: that the women felt like they couldn’t come out with what happened to them because they were scared, or were perceived to be liars, or were quietly paid off so that they would not tell. It’s this that makes my blood boil more than anything. The fact that we as women are viewed by so many in this world to not have value. Women are viewed as these sexual objects for men to do with what they want, and then we cannot say anything about it.

The world has always exploited women. We are told to look a certain way and act a certain way. Women are praised or judged by what they look like or what they are wearing. It’s rarely for our intellect and achievements. Obviously this isn’t true for the world as a whole, and even though women’s rights have come so far, we still have such a long way to go. Have you ever noticed in tabloids it always talks about what the women are wearing? Women are constantly “flaunting” their bodies, instead of just simply walking down a street living her daily life. Magazines rarely talk about men the same way. Women are perceived as these sexual objects and nothing more.

But here’s the double standard. If a woman dresses more modestly or acts so, she’s suddenly a “prude”, but if she is comfortable with herself to flaunt it and dress a little more revealing suddenly she’s a “whore”. Why is that? Why can’t a girl or woman choose what she wants to do with her own body and let that be that? “My body, my choice” am I right?

So many guys in high school would either never ask me out again, or not even pursue me romantically because I chose to save myself until marriage and wouldn’t give them what they wanted. Since when is that bad? I hope if those boys I knew ever have daughters, that they never have to deal with boys treating her the way they treated girls in high school. Hopefully karma doesn’t teach them a hard lesson.

What’s In a Value?

Last Sunday I got to teach a group of teenage girls from ages 12-18 at my local LDS church. In this lesson, I taught them that no matter what happens, that they still have worth in this world. Despite what this world will tell us over and over, is that we (as women) have so much value. It’s more than what we wear or what we look like. So much more. So, let’s go back then to the question of why I couldn’t list myself on the list of things I valued.

I know I have value, I knew it when my therapist asked me, but I was just afraid to say it. I’m not going to be afraid to value myself now. I will no longer let the things that have happend to me in the past, or anyone or anything else convince me that I have no value.

My daughter will always be taught by me that she has value, and I will help her navigate through this world that will constantly bombard her with these ridiculous “beauty standards”. Lucky for her, she’s got an entire pride of strong women who will also guide her. Wherever she goes in this life, I know that she is going to have the confidence and knowledge to take her far.

I want to hear your thoughts on this!

XoXo,

Heather

The Raw Brunette

 

 

My Tribe, My Pride

They say it takes a village to raise a child. I say, it takes a pride. A pride of powerful lionesses.

Why a pride you ask? Sure, there are male lions in prides, but let’s be honest, the female lions run the show. Lionesses are strong and fast hunters, and are relentless until the kill is had. But, they are also very loving. In fact, lions are the most social of the big cats, and really take care of their families. Lions themselves are one of the most recognized symbols in human history.

It all started on Marco Polo. If you non- tech savvy people don’t know what it is, Marco Polo is an app where you can video chat, but not in real-time. So, you can record a message, send it, and your friends or loved ones can watch it, and reply at their leisure. It’s like video texting. Go download it! My sisters and our birth mom have a chat thread that is added to daily, and it’s a great way for us all to keep in touch. One of my sisters today mentioned  in our Marco Polo thread how each of us individually are so strong, but when we are all together, that we are like a lion pride, and an unstoppable force.

I have been thinking about it since then, and it really made me consider all the women who were and are in my life. They all have unique strengths and talents, and all have inspired me in my own life.

Obviously, I must start with my Mom. She gave my older brother, and my twin sister and I such a wonderful childhood. She adopted my sister and I, and loved us as unconditionally as if we were her own biological children. Our home was filled with so much love, opportunities,creativity, and freedom to be ourselves. She cooked amazing home cooked meals, and tried to be as involved with our lives as we would let her. Let me put it this way, I can literally count two hands the number of sports games, concerts, graduations, awards ceremonies, and any other events that she did not attend. Even when she was sick she tried her best to go. Besides her ability to be a mother, she was probably one of if not the smartest person I have ever met. I always told her to go on Jeopardy, because she would have won hands down. She read like two books a week, sometimes more, and always tried new hobbies and succeeded at them. She was truly an incredible, loving, selfless woman. Her example helped me so much in my journey into motherhood, even beyond the grave. My heart aches for her still everyday. Her friendship is a loss that is hard to fill. I literally called my Mom every day, and after she died, and even still today, I instinctively will want to call her with random questions or stories I have to tell her.

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My twin sister naturally, is a given member of my pride. She is my soul mate, and if that’s a weird thing to refer to your twin sister as, I don’t care. She and I have been through more together than I could ever write down. We have an unbreakable bond, and twin connection. Yes, for anyone who has ever wondered if twins really have a connection, WE DO.  She’s my person. (For any Grey’s Anatomy fans, you know what I’m talking about). I like to think that she and I loved each other so much in Heaven before we came down, that we begged to not be separated. So, we were sent down together. I honestly don’t think I could have survived this life without her with me. She has also been a second mom to my three children, and I know one day when she becomes a mother, her children will be as loved by me as my own are.

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To remind any readers who have forgotten, my twin sister and I are adopted. We recently found our birth mother a few years back, and also got to meet our three half sisters. My birth mom is an amazing woman, who has been through a tremendous journey in her life. She inspires me, as well as makes me so proud to have her blood in my veins. She and I met each other in person in the summer of 2013. It still amazes me the similarities we have, and that I also have with my sisters even though we were not raised together. Genes are a funny, funny thing.

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It was a marvelously emotional day when we met. So much, that I may need to write an entire post just on that. She is such a rock in my life now, and I am grateful that for the rest of our lives we can continue to strengthen our bond, and get to know one another. She is one of my best friends.

It was as if these missing pieces of my heart were now put back into place – that being my birth mom, my sisters.

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Since then, we have formed what I now like to refer to as our Lion Pride, thanks to my sister. Each member of our pride is different in our unique talents and abilities, but we have so much in common too that it’s pretty funny sometimes. None of us ever has to feel like we are alone in any situation. If one of us is in trouble, or just needs a good cry session, we never have to be afraid to be vulnerable and open up, because we are all there for one another. It’s the type of support system that everyone should have, and when I talk to them, and by chance get to be in the presence of all of them at once I am in awe. It just makes me so damn grateful and proud to be a woman.

When I found out my second child was a girl, I was beyond ecstatic. She is an irreplaceable addition to our family. Although she has shown her fiery personality quite early, it makes me so happy to have her in my life. If anything, her stubbornness and very strong opinions give me zero doubts that my daughter will ever grow up and be afraid to be herself. I also have zero doubts that she will be without female support throughout her life.  She is so lucky, because she has these five intelligent, capable, talented, and tough women to look up to. They will and have helped me raise her (even if they aren’t aware of their influence), and I would be proud if she turned out like any one of them. Just like I said, it doesn’t take a village to raise a child, it takes a pride.

 

xoxo,

Heather

The Raw Brunette