There were seven kids here, aged 2 through 8. I loved the energy. It felt like when I had all of mine at home. My oldest was here, listening to me warn them to be gentle, and she said it was deja vu all over again!
I remember talking about ways we do and do not spoil our children. I constantly had to defend my parenting decisions to my mother-in-law. She was always warning me that I was spoiling my children. What I was doing was choosing kindness, or maybe following the golden rule. If I wanted someone to reach out, to soothe me then it was the least I could do for my babies.
The person who helped me most was my best friend from college. I was upset one day and she stopped me short by saying, "Well, just remember, they are yours to spoil. If you do spoil them, your mother-in-law won't have to deal with it." There was such freedom. But I also did some research. I found that children who trust that the world is a safe place, where we each matter, where we are loved and recognized are the kids who grow up to be safe and secure - the least spoiled of all. "Spoiled" children are the ones who are trying to get attention, reassurance that they are valued.
I think this goes back to our lack of tribe. You said your parenting choice led to sleepless night. I often felt invisible, because I was meeting everyone else's needs. In tribe, someone would have been available for each child at every moment. And it did not have to be a parent. Can you imagine being known by, being valued by a whole neighborhood? But we have to start somewhere. We are starting as infants from the 50s and 60s who were allowed to cry it out, to self soothe...that is such BS. I self soothe with chocolate. I never learned healthy responses to discomfort.
I agree - Everything starts with trauma. Fear is the ultimate weapon of control. The problem is fear that has been instilled in us before conscious memories begin...
So I am thinking about the swamp again. What is it? Thinking about the questions as well as the answers being found there set me off in a new direction. The swamp is murky because water and soil are mixed together. Water is emotion, soils are Earth - home, safety, beauty, stability. Ours is all mixed up. If we were healthy, fresh, clear water would flow through fertile soil. We would know what belonged where. Instead, we don't know what we have - it is all below the surface, and we don't know how far down the questions/memories are, and we really don't even know how far we have to go to reach bottom. I mean, what if there is no bottom? What if this pain just goes down and down and down forever, sucking me into depression until I drown in sorrow and cease to exist?
So we don't want to dry to swamp. That would be life without emotions, and we are alive when emotions flow. So what we need to do is separate the emotions. Does this make any sense? I have a sense of what I mean, but no language to express it...
One of my dear friends was here this weekend. She is from Sweden, and so culturally, she sees us differently than we see ourselves. She loves my children. She sees strength and health and intelligence in them. I get so caught up in day-to-day worries (oldest child does not approve of youngest's pregnancy...bit of drama that triggers memories of the way my ex-sister-in-law treated me...and so I get fixated on why we are not perfect...for instance!) that I forget to celebrate the wonder of who they are and that they are my family. After they left, my friend said, "You must be so proud. This evening was so great and they were all here and having fun. All the years of sacrificing and being there for them have paid off. This is your reward, having this life." I need her, and people like her in my life. I need to become more and more like her.
Good luck with your paper. And remember all the quote:
No comments:
Post a Comment