Tag Archives: My 500 Words

Whatever Wednesday: Too Cold for Wine n’ Jesus

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Due to the extreme cold our area experienced yesterday, a real event called Wine n’ Jesus was cancelled last night. This is a very fictional conversation based on the decision to cancel the Wine n’ Jesus event. Enjoy.

INT. LIVING ROOM – MID-MORNING.

COZY LIVING ROOM. GREEN FLORAL COVERED FURNITURE.

PICTURES ON WALL OF CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN. DOILIES EVERYWHERE. CUP OF TEA ON SAUCER ON END TABLE NEXT TO CHAIR.

MARTHA SITS IN THE CHAIR, WRINGING HER HANDS AS THE TV BLARES THE WEATHER FORECAST FOR THE EVENING AT 8 PAST THE HOUR.

SHE STANDS, WALKS TO KITCHEN TO GET THE WIRELESS PHONE.

MARTHA RETURNS TO THE LIVING ROOM, SITS DOWN, SIPS TEA, AND SETS THE CUP BACK DOWN ON THE SAUCER. A CLINK OF PORCELAIN IS HEARD.

SHE PRESSES THE BUTTONS FOR HER CO-CHAIR AND LIFTS THE PHONE TO HER EAR, LISTENING TO THE RINGING AND WAITS FOR HIM TO ANSWER. 

MARTHA

(SHARPLY)

ROGER? Is that you?

ROGER

(clearing throat)

Hullo, MARTHA.

MARTHA (CONT’D)

ROGER, I am worried about the meeting tonight. It is entirely too cold out there.

ROGER

Too cold out there for Wine n’ Jesus? 

MARTHA

Yes, ROGER. Entirely too cold. There is a time and a place for Jesus but we shouldn’t expect people to freeze to death and meet their maker earlier than they are meant to, now should we?

ROGER

For heaven’s sake, MARTHA, it is just a bit of cold. The church has a heater. The power is not out, the roads are not icy, and vehicles have heaters in them. Explain to me why we are cancelling our Wine n’ Jesus. I have the wine already chosen and ready to go. Also, I thought tonight was going to be the Bible Jeopardy night. You know how much fun Bible Jeopardy is once we have all had a bit of wine.

MARTHA

Yes, yes, I know. But ROGER…sometimes, we have to put safety before Jesus, and particularly before wine. I love wine just as you do, ROGER, but tonight it seems we need to put it aside. It is what He would want us to do.

ROGER 

You’re not thinking clearly, MARTHA. There is no danger aside from the frigid cold. Which, from what I understand, you should be quite adept at surviving.

MARTHA

(inhales sharply)

What on EARTH is that supposed to mean, ROGER?

ROGER

Oh you know exactly what I mean, MARTHA.

MARTHA

No, I am afraid I don’t, ROGER.

(she crosses her legs and adapts a defensive seated position)

ROGER

Oh, I’ve talked with Frank. I KNOW how frigid you are, Martha. I know.

MARTHA

(shrieking)

I am not going to dignify that with a response, ROGER. How dare you bring that up in this conversation. Wine n’ Jesus is cancelled. Do you hear me, ROGER? (yelling loudly now) CANCELLED!!!!

ROGER

But MARTHA…

MARTHA

CANCELLED! GOOD DAY!

She hangs up the phone and appears to mumble furiously to herself as she dials the number for the local news station to get the information for the cancellation submitted, pressing the phone to her ear once she is done dialing. 

MARTHA

Hello? Is this where I submit information for cancellations?

OPERATOR

Yes, it is. Name of the event?

MARTHA

Wine n’ Jesus.

OPERATOR

Wine and Cheeses?

MARTHA

(exasperated sigh)

No. Wine n’ Jesus. As in Jesus our Lord, not cheeses as in Brie, Gruyere, and Colby Jack. JESUS. As in the Son of God.

OPERATOR

Oooohhhh. Yes. As in Jesus turned the water into wine.

MARTHA

Well, if that is how your simple mind wants to remember it, yes.

OPERATOR

Excuse me, ma’am?

MARTHA (mumbling)

Oh, nothing. The Wine n’ Jesus event is tonight at 6pm. It is cancelled because of the cold.

OPERATOR

Because of the cold?

MARTHA

Yes, that’s right. What is so difficult to believe about this? It is dangerously cold out there!

OPERATOR

Yes ma’am but it is actually warmer tonight than it was this morni…

MARTHA

Don’t you get all high and mighty on me too, missy. It’s cancelled due to cold. Now put it up on your website so the people know it is too cold for the Wine n’ Jesus tonight, please.

OPERATOR

Yes, ma’am. Is there anything else I can do for you? Pray, refer you to a therapist, give you some wine?

MARTHA

Well, I never… (sighs loudly and pushes the END CALL button)

Martha sinks back into her floral chair, a frustrated look on her face. She slams the phone down, sips her tea. It is now cold.

A Simple Dream

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A mum in the UK recently took her own life. Fellow PPD blogger Ivy Shih Leung wrote a very long and insightful piece about it here.

While I have not read anything beyond Ivy’s piece, I want to address one of the issues Ivy touches on in her post. For me, it is one of the primary reasons women who struggle with a Perinatal Mood & Anxiety Disorder still fight so desperately with reaching out for help and then with actually receiving the proper help.

Our battle has multiple levels. Were PMAD’s a video game, we would have to survive level after harrowing level before finally reaching a properly educated doctor or therapist. Some of us may be lucky enough to skip all these harrowing levels but for most of us, we are destined to fight with all we have while we don’t have much just to get by in a world expecting us to be super mom while we are at it.

First, we have to fight with ourselves to acknowledge that there is a problem.

Then, we fight with loved ones for help with every day tasks and with reaching out for help.  We fight the argument that we are “faking” or “pretending” just to get out of housework or parenting. We are, some of us, told to suck it up and get over it. Move on. We’ll fall in love with our children eventually. Worse yet, some of us are told depression is some sort of luxury the former generations did not have time with which to deal.

Next, we fight with the front desk folks at the doctor’s office who may tell us such things as “If you’re not suicidal, don’t call us until you are.” (And yes, shamefully, that DOES happen in real life).

We then level up to arguing with a doctor who may brilliantly tell us that our hormones should be back in order by now so of course it can’t be Postpartum Depression despite the fact that we just admitted several high risk symptoms to them. So we are referred to the therapist who calls and reschedules until we are exhausted and cancel altogether.

So we suck it up and try to make do on our own until the next baby when we completely fall apart and start the entire routine all over again. Only this time around, there is a little less resistance from family members and friends because they have seen you go through this before and realize that maybe, just maybe, she isn’t making it up this time around.

But we have to stay off the Internet because it’s a dangerous place for a woman with a PMAD to be – we will be judged for breastfeeding while taking medication or for giving formula because we have to medicate. We didn’t try hard enough to protect ourselves, there is something wrong with us. Damn straight there is something wrong with us – it’s an illness, it’s real, and it is hell.

Psychiatric stigma is bullshit. The divisiveness motherhood brings to a woman’s life is bullshit. Hell, sometimes just being a woman altogether is bullshit. Why we judge each other so harshly for our choices is so beyond me I don’t even know how to begin to understand why we do this. I’m serious – I truly do not understand the in-fighting or bickering.

It comes down to understanding one simple truth:

Each mother needs to do what is best for HER and for HER family. As long as she is doing just that, we do not need to judge, we do not need to place blame, stigma, guilt, or any other negative blanket upon her or her family.

The Internet can be a fabulous place for support if you end up surrounded by the right people and ignore the wrong people. It’s finding the wonderful people that is the challenge.

I have a simple dream, in closing. It’s a dream that one day, mothers of all sort of different beliefs, will be able to have a discussion about parenting without inadvertently reducing each other to panic attacks and/or tears because they’ve judged someone for doing something outside the realm of *their* comfort zone.

One day, right?

Lessons Learned

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On December 31, I promised a more intimate peek into my life these days. Over the past few years, I have intensely valued my privacy with all things personal. But you’re a blogger. You’re supposed to spill your guts, right?

Not exactly, Einstein.

The beauty of having my own space here on the Internet is that I have final say regarding what I share or do not share. For instance, I wrote an intensely personal post about this past Saturday but chose not to post it because I don’t want to ruin the beauty that was Saturday.

However, I do have something rather personal to share today: I have learned a few lessons over the past few years as I have moved from marriage to divorce to living with my parents again to girlfriend and co-step parent.

Those lessons, in no particular order, follow:

1. Focus on the act, not the response. I am happiest when I am doing for others, particularly when it makes them happy. Service is my language. I realized that for quite some time, instead of focusing on the act of giving/doing, I was focused on the response. When the response was not what I expected, I would become disappointed. Now, however, I work to focus on the actual act of doing/giving. It doesn’t matter what the response is as long as you have done your best with a full and giving heart.

2. It is okay to have emotions. You are human, yes? Not Vulcan or Android. We have emotions and they are all over the place. It is okay to own your emotions. Now, if your emotions are interfering with day-to-day living and causing rifts with others in your life, then they may be worth exploring with a professional. But do not ever let someone make you constantly second guess your emotions and reactions.

3. Take time for yourself. You matter. As I said in a post the other day, it is impossible to fill an empty glass with water from an empty glass. Time for yourself does not have to cost a thing, it is not something which is out of reach unless you make it out of reach. It can be as little as making a favourite tea or coffee. Or watching a favourite show, reading, singing, exercise, sewing, knitting, etc. It’s about doing something that sparks your soul and is an essence of you. Yes, you are a mother, a wife/girlfriend, sister, daughter, cousin, whatever.. but you are also YOU. Remember that and don’t lose yourself in what everyone else requires of you.

4. It is okay to need help. For some reason, we, as women, have been conditioned to not ask for help. In days gone by, women had plenty of help nearby. But with the destruction of the extended family and increased reliance on self, that help has faded into the past. Now, we go online and ask for advice from friends who are nowhere near us geographically. Some of us are fortunate to have friends and family nearby but others are not. Research your area – find the Mom’s group, maybe look into a daycare. Accept help when it is offered. There is no shame in saying yes or giving yourself a little bit of breathing room. If you were in need of oxygen, you’d put on an oxygen mask pretty darn quickly, right? THIS IS JUST LIKE THAT.

5. Laugh loudly, deeply, and often. When things get bad, don’t forget to laugh. Laugh at the inappropriate. Giggle at the ridiculous. Find people who appreciate sarcasm and humour. Befriend them. They will be your light when everything else is pitch dark. Laughter is the best medicine (unless, of course, you have a cracked rib or a weak bladder….then it’s just painful or messy). This, more than any of the other lessons, is what has kept me afloat through all the dark. Laughter. Frankly, I wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who was incapable of laughing at themselves or at life. We’re just not here long enough to be serious all the time.

6. Find the beauty in the smallest of things. Take nothing for granted. The smallest moments, the sparkle of snow on a sunny day or a smile from a child – these are the things that stay with you. The best moments don’t happen on Instagram. They happen when we’re simply living. I have learned to unplug and leave the Internet behind because while I adore the friends I have made in the land of the World Wide Web, I love the real people in my life even more and do not want them to ever feel I take them for granted or that they are less important than the people who live inside my computer/phone. A funny thing happens when you take the time to see the beauty in everything – everything becomes beautiful whether it really is or not because it really IS in the eye of the beholder.

7. Be spontaneous. Sometimes, life requires planning. But the best life is lived spontaneously. It’s about saying yes to opportunities in the heat of the moment and following through. It’s about living outside your comfort zone. Life is meant to be lived. I am still working on this one myself but it’s one I really hope to dive fully into this year. It doesn’t have to be anything huge, mind you. It may end up just being a quick trip somewhere to run an errand for the heck of it. Or it may end up being a surprise weekend away. Regardless, spontaneity is about telling the rigors of your daily schedule to go to hell and running with opportunity.

8. Throw yourself into a hobby. For me, my hobby is cooking. Cooking was formerly my escape but now, it’s something I truly adore doing. I love finding new recipes and trying them out. I have cooked more in the past 18 months than I have ever before. Breads, Asian soups, bacon wrapped meatloaf (YUM!) and other various recipes that I’ve discovered or even just made up completely. Picking a new hobby is challenging and gets your creative juices flowing. The bonus to cooking? You get to EAT your creation…and make other people drool over them.

9. Let yourself cry. You would think being okay to cry would belong with “it’s okay to have emotions” but I am separating this one for a reason. As a divorced mom, there are times when I just need to bawl my eyes out because well, there are a LOT of emotions you go through during a divorce. I have found that crying is the one thing that I deny myself. Not just during my divorce, but overall. I have never been much of a crier. But sometimes, you just need to cry to release all the emotions inside. Give yourself permission to do so. I have a few movies which will trigger crying and I am not afraid to use them. (Simon Birch, My Dog Skip, and Hachi are total tearjerkers. I also bawl at Rudy.)

10. Do not compare yourself to anyone else. You are you. Everyone else is not you. Just because someone else who started the process at the same time as you is doing better than you at the same point that you feel everything is falling apart does not mean that you are failing and they are succeeding. All that means is that you are processing things at your speed and they are processing things at their speed. It’s okay to go slower. It’s okay to go faster. Be the best you that you can be and you’ll be just fine.

11. Steep yourself in your faith. Regardless of what your beliefs are, find and connect with like-minded people. For me, this is the Christian faith. People who are members of your faith will know how to respond to any faith-based challenges which may crop up. Sometimes they may be a bit heavy-handed, but if it weren’t for prayer and the faith-strong in my life over the past few years, I honestly do not know if I would have survived. I am eternally grateful.

Don’t Be Decoy Mom

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Colourful jars sit atop a shelf in a misty and humid room. Running water slides down her skin as she lathers up with the latest in moisturizing body wash which promises to make her skin glow with youth. She washes her hair with shampoo and conditioner to make it thick, silky, and soft.

As she exits the shower, the drying process begins – softly – so as not to leave any red marks or heaven forbid, pull skin in the wrong direction. Pat the face dry then move down to her toes. She folds the towel in thirds and places it neatly back on the rod before she wraps her hair in a smaller towel.

Grabbing a toothbrush, she measures out the whitening toothpaste and gets to work. Rinses, then gargles with mouthwash to ensure bad breath stays at bay. Then, moisturizer. While that soaks in, she puts on her undergarments. A bra with an underwire and underwear that promises to hold in the stomach which has nurtured the lives of her children close for the past few years. She frowns. Back to the bathroom.

She reaches for the first layer of glow, then dots on concealer. Waits for it to dry before applying an overall foundation and gently blending it together to hide the exhaustion and stress marching across her face. Next up, eye liner and eye shadow. They make the eyes more open and energetic. Mascara goes on next, gently, the kind that lengthens the lashes because again, more awake and conscious. Less tired.

Then she puts on blush to cheer her cheeks up, smiling as she carefully brushes up, not down – happy, not sad, she whispers to herself.

She takes down her hair and gives it a tousle. Plugs in the hair dryer and gives her hair a once over, then pulls it into a messy bun. Walks into the closet and chooses whatever isn’t wrinkled or covered in baby food stains. Grabs a pretty pair of heels then over to the jewelry box to select accessories.

A small hand tugs on her skirt and she looks down.

“Mama? You look beee-yooo-tea-fah. Hug?” her middle daughter asks, covered in chocolate from whatever snack she just finished devouring.

So the mother leans down and gives the child a hug, knowing she will have to change her clothes. She sends her daughter on her way, and walks back into the closet, stripping as she goes. A new outfit selected, she makes it to the car with no child-induced stains on her pretty clothes.

She turns the key, unlocks the door, and slides into the driver’s seat, throwing her miniature purse on the passenger seat beside her. Exhaling, she checks her makeup one last time to be sure she looks human and not like some exhausted creature just waking up from hibernation. She doesn’t. She turns the key, starts the music, and backs out of the driveway.

Transformation into Decoy Mom complete.

Decoy Mom is a mom who goes through great lengths to hide how her life is really going – every stitch must be perfect, every thing in it’s place, nothing negative to be found anywhere. And yet, inside, everything is falling apart. Her heart, her life, her soul – it’s all cracked and crumbling.

I’m not saying that a Mom who has it all pulled together is definitively falling apart. Nor am I saying that a Mom who doesn’t have it all pulled together is well. What I am saying is that we are all “covers” when we are with people and some of us are even “covers” when we are alone. We choose what pieces of ourselves to share and what pieces of ourselves to hide. We are not expected to fully share ourselves with anyone unless WE choose to do so. But we should absolutely be at least fully sharing ourselves with ourselves. In order to be authentic with anyone at all, you have to first be authentic with yourself. Being authentic with yourself is a difficult practice but a necessary one.

Stop hiding behind a mask, telling yourself lies about who or what you are inside and outside. Take a hard look inside. Explore. Make a list of everything that is there whether it is good or bad. Work to improve or re-frame the bad (sometimes, negative traits can be utilized for positive things – are you firm & harsh? Figure out how to rein that in by using compassion and understanding). Expand the good, let go of the negative. Focus on flipping the script.

Figure out what you want out of life this year, make a list, then break it down into smaller goals. Don’t let the big things overwhelm you and don’t let yourself become Decoy Mom. Be the authentic Mom, wife, sister, cousin, aunt, and YOU that you were meant to be. Stop hiding her under layers of crap. You might find that you have more time (and energy) to BE you if you give up all the hiding.

Day 1: My first 500 Words

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For the month of January, I signed up as part of author Jeff Goins’ My 500 Words Challenge. Every day, we are to write 500 words. Free-writing. No editing. None. These are today’s 500 words. My goal for 2014 include writing a book as well as writing more here. I’m realizing that while my blog has a Perinatal Mood & Anxiety Disorders focus, I am human and do not have to stick to just pieces about PMAD’s. I plan to share more of myself here this year, to do as this piece mentions – to strip down – let the vulnerability of my humanity fly for the world to see.

_________________________________

There is a naked tree behind our house. It is in the middle of a row of evergreens. The tree, in the autumn, has leaves which echo the fierceness of a radiant sunset. But in the winter, it stands alone, naked, at the side of the road. This year, however, there is a lone stubborn leaf clinging to one of the topmost branches.

I cannot help but think that this naked tree is like a writer in the midst of non-writers. As a writer, we are to strip our souls bare and stand out among the crowd for all to see. Our words are our thoughts put to paper. They hang there, as if they were ornaments on a tree. Other words may hang in the air as if they were shreds of torn and dirty paper, floating along in the breeze. But the words that stick, the ones that strip us to our very core, those are the ones for which we write every day.

They are the naked branches on the lone winter tree. The lone leaf is our stubbornness in staying away from the exercise of writing. Using our words, in written form, is like going to the gym for a top athlete. If we fail to get in consistent practice, we fail to stay in top form. Our writing falters, we falter, and we begin to perceive the world around us differently.

When you are a writer, every single instance of life is a potential story. From making tea in the morning, to cooking breakfast, to the actions of neighbors, to your children, to things your friends say, or even the beauty in the day outside your window. It is all a story waiting to be told, sometimes aching to be told. But if you haven’t been flexing your writing muscle, the story will fade into the darkness.

But what if you were the one meant to tell the story? Sometimes a story will cling to you if you are the one meant to tell it but first, we have to be willing to listen to the prompts swirling about us as we live life. It might be our story, it might be someone else’s story, or it might be a tale plucked out of thin air to be fancifully created by only you.

If you think for one second that you are not the one to share it because you are not capable, remind yourself that people have used words to communicate for centuries. One does not have to be particularly talented to use words. Practice makes perfect.

Remember learning how to ride a bike? I would be willing to bet you thought you were never going to get it right. But you kept trying as your parents (or another adult) taught you what to do. This is why reading is a critical part of writing. Swallow books whole – devour them – in addition to writing. You will not only be reflecting what is shared but you will be learning from those who have broken through the barrier of where you find yourself now. They are without training wheels – and you will be without training wheels soon as well.

There is magic, strength, beauty, compassion, truth, and hope in words. Do not find yourself afraid to use them this year. Let this be the year you fearlessly share the story you are meant to share. Go. Write.