I haven't posted for the last week because I have been thinking way to much. Has that ever happened to you? Way to many thoughts and not enough words?
Two or so years ago I went to therapy, hell, we should ALL go to therapy, I'm in no way embarrassed to admit that I was brave enough to face my past. It was in therapy that I realized that I had very unhealthy relationships with some of my family members, hell, with some of you reading this site (which you read at your own risk mind you). I have since learned how to set healthy boundaries and how to lower my expectations so I would not find myself overwhelmed with disappointment when people would not reciprocate the relationship the way I wanted them to. I've grown a great deal in that area and no longer feel like the families resident doormat and I think they have responded quite well to this, which really was their only choice.
Although I had the strength to set boundaries for my family, I never really found that same strength to do it to people outside of my family.
Since the post before last, the one where I embarrassingly opened up the sealed door to my past, it sorta conjured up emotions that I never knew I still had and it made me realize that some people that I refer to as my friends might not be exactly healthy for me. I guess since I grew up feeling like no one ever liked me I tend to hold onto friendships for dear life, even if they are tearing me down. I realized that I really need to let go of some friendships since that post, I've realized that these people look down on me for various reasons and I deserve more than that from those I choose to call my friends. Where I was forced to lower my expectations in regards to my family members, I've had to learn to set higher expectations for my friends that I choose to keep my life.
This past week I have found myself looking at different aspects of various relationships and picking them apart trying to figure out what is healthy and what I can do without at the moment.
However, I have not wanted to post because I feared that some of my friends who do read this site would think that I was referring to them. Let me make this crystal clear:
I'm not talking about you, please trust me. You are healthy in my life and I am thankful for each of the roles you play in my life.
But for those of you who will never read this post because you don't have access to this site, I quote, with pride, this little ditty I read in the back of a book:
"Welcome to my life, please don't bother to wipe your feet"
"You are so totally skinny. I can't even believe you had a baby a year ago."
And that my friends, amongst a toddler teething molars, family members who force me to drink, and a cat who spits his pill out each and every time I stick it back in, makes a tired Mama's night.
God Bless you 21 year old Panera cashier, God Bless you all.
Today, two times, someone picked on Camille. The blood that rushed through my veins was hot and boiling. That animal instinct kicked in and all I wanted to do, in all honesty, was smack the other kid for his cruelty to my child. Obviously I didn't, it wasn't his fault that he was a brat, it was his mother that deserved the smack as she watched on with a fake smile as her son continued to run into my daughter with the car that he pushed her off of in the first place. She desperately tried to get it back. I ran over, snatched her, and made certain that my opinion of his behavior was heard in ear shot of his mother.
I realize that these things happen. Kids are mean. Sometimes kids just have to learn how to not be mean by acting mean once in a while. Sometimes kids act mean because they have parents that are so afraid to discipline that they aren't being taught any other way.
I know I can't protect Camille forever but you better know that I will protect her as long as I can.
I was that kid that no one liked. Not for anything I did, but for what my parents did. At the time, in the early 1980's divorce was very taboo in the church. I went to a private school before and then after this change of status in my family. My sister's and I were well accepted before but the aftershock of the events I had no control of sent a wave of discrimination that no child should have felt. When I say no one liked me, trust me, I'm not being dramatic.
I was the child that was never invited to birthday parties.
I was the child that no one chose to be on their teams during P.E. Because no one wanted me on their team, the teacher would just have me sit out for that class.
I was the child that no one played with at the playground.
I was the child that became invisible.
It was bad enough that the kids didn't like me but to make matters worse, the teachers didn't like me either and my parents were so consumed by their own drama that they created, that no one really noticed that downward spiral that finally hit rock bottom by my sixth grade year. I had actually become as invisible as one child could. I can remember sitting in class, and staring at test but never taking them. I can remember the teacher telling me that Jared**, the boy with severe disabilities was smarter than me.
I simply gave up.
I failed sixth grade. I actually received a 0 for the entire year because I refused to do anything. All the adults were so tangled within themselves that no one realized how far I had fallen. Looking back, if someone had just caught on, I think one would have diagnosed me with severe depression. It was awful and an ugly part of my life that is now very hush hush. No one talks about that time and when they do, my Mom cries because she didn't know it was that bad.
I tell you this so you can fully understand this fire deep down inside me to protect my offspring. I do not want any of my children to walk in those shoes. I am fully committed to providing for my child what I didn't have: A healthy loving relationship with their father. A home that is safe and peaceful and free from yelling and screaming. Security, enough that they know, inside these walls, I will never let in things that will disrupt their lives.
So today, as these two children, being children, picked on my daughter, that protective instinct became so overwhelming but I knew that this is a part of growing up and she knew that all she had to do was look over her little shoulder and see her Mama running to protect her.
***that comment that was made by this teacher was obviously closed minded and demeaning to all children born with special needs.
I won't know until next Thursday but right now it's just not looking good.
So, I can't write at this moment because this really is kinda on my mind and as attempted to write a post about my camera I just erased it because I figured I could write it when I find out that I didn't mess up and can breathe a breath of relief.
If I do get to breathe a breath of relief it is only because I hate being wrong, that's all, really.
Here's picture of Camille for you to adore in the meantime taken with my new camera. Darnit if she's not the CUTEST baby EVER!
