Thursday, May 31, 2012

The Box

My Facebook status says "My therapist says to talk about it. When I'm in that dark place where the monsters and skeletons and secrets live I'm supposed to talk and tell the story as many times as I need to. I'm trying and it's so hard." You know, in that dark place it isn't the dark or the monsters or the skeletons that are scary; we've been friends for a long time, no, they're there to protect the secrets and to protect me from them. We all have to have a place to keep our secrets, the real secrets the ones that truely no one else knows about, and I keep mine in the box.

Sometimes I go tiptoeing around my head, poking and prodding at things, making sure it's not too chaotic in there, usually everything is in relativly good order. And then I come to the room with the box; that box that holds my memories and my deepest darkest secrets. The box is really more of an old steamer trunk; it's big and beautiful and ornate, at frist when I see the box all I want to do is open it, something so beautiful must hold something amazing. I'm always so sure that I want to pull all of those old memories out and lose myself in them for awhile. When I start getting closer to the box, though, I realize that it's not so pretty after all. These small black tendrils are snaking their way out from under the lid and I know that if the big ones get out they might just pull me in with them.

Sometimes I see the monsters guarding my box, making sure that all stays quiet in the dark in my mind. They do such a good job; they don't have to fight with the things in the box anymore ( I think they used to a lot), they just stand there to remind the things of their place. But sometimes it's the skeletons that I see. They are the ones that keep me from getting into the box. Sometimes I try to just open the box, just enough to peek inside. Other times I try to take it with me; I don't want my memories down there in the dark. Those skeletons are always there to stop me, saying "Look what happened last time you opened the box. It's dangerous and you can't risk losing yourself in there again." So I shut the lid and I trudge back up to the surface and the real world.

Currently my skeletons and I are in negotiations. They don't want me to open the box, but I know I need to. I'm introducing them to the lifelines; the people that are there to pull me back out when I start going under and the ones that can fight of the nasties when they start coming after me. I think the skeletons like these people, but they are worried. I'm worried too. What happens with this box is open and everything is allowed to escape? Will everything be allowed to escape, or can I pull one piece out at a time?

I suppose that we'll find out. For now I just keep poking around in the dark place; I really do like it in there, it's calm and comforting. I go over to the box and sit on it and talk to the things in it, or on the bad days I kick it and scream and yell at the things inside until I'm so exhausted that I can't even look at it anymore. Days like today, I just stare and wonder.

Sarah M.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Are You Mom Enough?

Yes, I am mom enough.

I am mom enough to make whatever decision is right for my family at any given moment.

I am mom enough to choose to breastfeed for as long as possible.

I am mom enough to let my child wean at 15 months before I was ready.

I am mom enough to work and go to school and raise a child.

But you know what? I am also mom enough to tell you to fuck off when you start judging another mom.

I am mom enough to support the mom that chooses to breast feed.

I am mom enough support the mom that chooses not to breast feed.

I am mom enough to tell any mother that is struggling that she is doing a fantastic job when people are putting her down all the time for making the decisions that she thinks are best.

And I am mom enough to defend ANY mother’s right to choose whatever works for her.

When we ask questions like “Are you mom enough?” we start alienating other moms. We just created an “us verses them” mentality and honestly, I’m sick of it. No one will ever make the exact same choices that you do and if they did we would all be extremely boring and never get anything done.

This is all I’m going to say about the bullshit that Time magazine has incited with their recent cover because I think that they are morally objectionable for running an article with that kind of headline. But next time you find yourself judging another parent for their decisions, please step back and question your own. Are you perfect all the time? No? I’m shocked.


Friday, April 20, 2012

If I Were, I'd Be...

Apparently no one is sure who started this, but I wanted to play along. I got it from Lori at RRSAHM. If you want to play along, copy and paste it.

If I Were, I'd Be....

If I were a month, I'd March with the sunny days and the dark, grey days.

If I were a day of the week, I'd be Thursday.

If I were a time of day, I'd be midnight, that time right in between the days.

If I were a planet, I'd be a moon, a beacon of light guiding you through the darkest nights.

If I were an animal, I'd be a swallow. In sailor lore, they mean that you're almost home.

If I were a direction, I'd be one step forward, two steps back.

If I were a piece of furniture, I'd be a papasan.

If I were a liquid, I'd be cherry rum, it's so sweet you can sip it by itself but it still burns.

If I were a gemsotone, I'd be amber.

If I were a tree, I'd still be a dogwood tree.

If I were a tool, I'd be knife.

If I were a flower, I'd be a moonflower.

If I were a kind of weather, I'd be rain on a warm day.

If I were a musical instrument, I'd be an acoustic guitar.

If I were a color, teal.

If I were an emotion, I'd be anxious.

If I were a fruit, kiwi.

If I were a sound, I'd contended sigh.

If I were an element, I'd be water.

If I were a car, I'd be a VW Beetle.

If I were a food, I'd be cherry pie.

If I were a place, I'd be that one perfect spot by the lake where you can hang out and swim all day.

If I were a material, I'd be worn out flannel from one of my dad's old shirts.

If I were a taste, I'd be lemon, real lemon that makes your whole face hurt.

If I were a scent, I'd be the smell of sex and men's cologne.

If I were a body part, Id' be old, strong hands.

If I were a facial expression, I'd be an awkward smile.

If I were a pair of shoes, I'd be a pair of painted Chucks.

That was actually pretty fun. Seriously, if you do this, let me know so I can read it.


Friday, April 13, 2012

I Doodle! Pt. 13

This one is really special to me because I drew it as a special surprise for someone and this person said that it was like I'd given them flowers.


Friday, April 6, 2012

Dual Purpose

I read a blog post recently about an older ad that talked about breast feeding and bonding with your baby and your man. The poster was upset because breasts were being sexualized again. It made me think about all the "lactivists" fighting for breast feeding and trying to remove the sexual stigma from breasts. Is that really what we need to do?

Each body part has many uses, breasts are not the exception. As a young woman, my breasts are a HUGE part of my sexuality. They were also a huge part of my parenting. They can be both, and that is ok.

I think the focus needs to be that they aren't just sexual, they are a happy place whether for you and your partner or for you and your baby.

I feel like we need to be a little more gentle with the women who say things like "they're for my husband" and the like. For as long as they can remember breasts have been sexual and saying that boobs are for breast feeding does not change that image. We need to talk to them about ways to stay intimate with their partners and how breast feeding does not mean that they are off limits. We need to look a little deeper.

I Doodle! Pt. 12


Tuesday, April 3, 2012

What Am I Running From?

When you're a parent you don't really get to run away. I guess you could, but that isn't very responsible. When most parents run away it's usually scheduled and the kiddo is with someone that loves them, but you still aren't running away, you still have to think about all the "what ifs" and be on call 24/7.

That's one of the reasons I like running, like on a treadmill. For me it is a physical manifestation of running from the things that I can't handle.

I asked the Universe for changes this year and I'm definitely getting them. I'll post more about them tomorrow. I don't do well with changes even if they are super exciting and make me happy, they are still scary. When I'm scared I want to run away and sleep for a few days. Since I can't do that, I run in place on my treadmill and meditate.

When I started running in January I fell in love with the freedom it gave me. I need a challenge and running provided it and a way to escape. I wish I would use stayed on the band wagon last time but no one is perfect.

I'm glad I'm back and I can't wait to see the results from this.