Enough

I had an interesting conversation with my dad the other day.  He watched my kids for a couple of hours so that I could go and meet a girlfriend for a grown up lunch.  When I returned we were talking about the reason behind the lunch and I shared that I have really been struggling lately.  He wanted me to elaborate so I did.  I mentioned that some of my insecurities have been coming up lately.  He sort of laughed made a comment (forgive me I can't remember) but I asked if he was being facetious because he was indicating that he didn't seem to think I had any real insecurities.  I elaborated for him though it struck me that this person who has spent a fair amount of time with me over the last three years (clearly my whole life, but I would say that our relationship has become more consistent and open since I had Bella) was completely unaware of how dark and twisty my internal processors are.

I consider myself fairly open.  I don't always share everything in person.  To be fair, in person I don't share much.  If asked a question, I will usually answer honestly, but I tend to keep to myself.  This is not out of pride (usually) or even a desire for privacy, but actually further proof of how totally insecure I am.  As I explained to my dad what exactly my insecurities are, I tried to explain how the theme is essentially that I don't feel like I am enough.  Let me elaborate for you.

I don't feel that I am a good enough friend.  I am mostly terrible at keeping secrets mostly because I don't deem most things worth secrecy.  I have exceptionally high expectations and standards and am easily disappointed.  Once my trust is broken, it takes a great deal to earn it back.  I don't consider myself terribly fun, often a nay-sayer and frequently negative (ahem, realistic). 

I don't think I am a good enough wife.  I'm insecure about my body.  I don't keep the house clean.  I often fall prey to "fixing" problems when an ear is the only thing desired (see, good enough friend as this applies there too).  I don't work very hard to look good (clothes, make-up, etc).  I tend to be lazy and overwhelmed leaving me prey to ordering take-out, having a messy house, and looking for the path of least resistance.

I don't think I am a good enough mom.  I get frustrated easily.  I don't have a lot of energy to run around and play.  I get overwhelmed easily (see wife) and fall prey to yelling, and avoiding activities that have the potential for messiness or complications.  I lean towards attachment parenting but not fully leaving me somewhere in the middle and not entirely anything.

I realize that many of these statements could be argued.  This is merely an insight to my thought process.  The list goes on and on.  Not enough feminist, not enough daughter, not enough sister, not enough performer, not enough cancer survivor, yada yada yada...

And then, while I'm trying to be enough I get spread so thin that then I am even less to everyone.  It has been an interesting process trying to explain my issues to someone who I thought knew how damaged I actually am.  If only we all could be clear about who we are and also what we think about each other.  Maybe some of those dark corners would have some light shed on them.

Body love

I just came across this article about a large woman doing a 30 day love yourself challenge. http://m.huffpost.com/us/entry/3943938/

This is a topic I've been pondering quite a bit lately. As a large woman myself, I experience a great deal of body shame. I avoid mirrors and hate clothes shopping. I fully admit that I let motherhood be my excuse to care little about my appearance. Who has the time when some grimy little person is just going to cover you in something in five minutes anyhow?

The truth is though that it is just an excuse. I haven't loved my body ever. And since becoming an actually large woman (unlike simply thinking I was which was the case when I was younger) I have increasingly bought into the societal belief that my body makes me bad.

It makes me bad in many ways. The first and most obvious being that I am not sexy or attractive. (Having the affection of a partner doesn't dispel this since he fell in love with me when I was skinny.) I am less of a desirable friend because I can't (don't enjoy) partake in the long held tradition of shopping together. First because I don't enjoy trying on clothes, but even if I get over that, I can't shop in the same departments or stores as my more petite friends. I am less of a desirable performer because most roles for large women require a) ethnicity b) age or c) a large belty voice. I have none of those and no one wants an ingénue in a fat girls body. Apparently its not believable that a fat girl would be the object of affection.

I'm sure I could come up with many other reasons why my body makes me a lesser citizen of planet earth. I'll leave you with these three examples though.

On the flip side my body is AMAZING. It has grown and birthed two healthy beautiful children. It provided some milk for one and complete sustenance for the other. It sustained me with little ill effect through a barrage of cancer treatments ultimately ending cancer free. True it allowed the cancer to take hold in the first place but I digress. If these things don't make my body good, I don't know what does.

I continue to work towards loving my body and "being beautiful". Until then I will remind myself of the strength of my body's miracles.

The more things change...

Well it has been quite an eventful few weeks. I still owe you a Disneyland post (its coming I promise!) but have some other things on my mind at the moment. I've become nakedly aware that my biggest set of insecurity buttons relate to feeling included, loved, valued and worthwhile. The place that these issues most frequently arise for me are around friendship.

I've always struggled making friends. I'm painfully shy and deal with extreme social anxiety. Once I'm confortable in a friendship I tend to be overly honest and have high expectations. As you can imagine that can often cause me issues in keeping those friendships. To top all of that off with this crazy phase of life I'm living in, I'm not great at staying active with my friends, leaving yet another gap.

Well some of these buttons have been pushed over the last few days and I'm sitting here feeling like I've been kicked out of another club. (Side story I was actually kicked out of a club my friends formed in the 5th or 6th grade, followed a few months later with an "I hate Karey" club... Yeah, you can say I have issues.)

So what do you do when you feel like you've been discarded or forgotten? And when those who are still active in your life, you're struggling to be a good friend to them?

I don't have any answers, just a whole lot of questions.

I know something in my life has to shift. I just don't know what or how. I also know I need to find my way back to my best friend - my husband. Having two littles has definitely done a number on our ability to be present for and with one another. The love is there, I'm hoping the time will avail itself soon. :)

I'm also hoping that at least some of the lost friendships prove to be figments of my imagination. It has been known to happen.

Preschool!

We officially have a big girl here!  Bella started preschool today.  It is only two days a week for two and a half hours, but it is preschool.  We show up, she plays, I leave.

Day one went well.  On the way there, she told me I was to leave her there.  Once we arrived, she informed me I was to stay.  I told her I would stay as long as she needed me to.  She got busy playing and I went outside.  After an hour I checked in with the teachers who told me to go ahead and leave (I had a cranky baby on my hands who wanted out of the Ergo and needed a nap).  So I did.  Bella asked for me once when they went out to the playground, the teachers told her I was walking around, and she was fine.  I picked her up when school was over and she was happy to see me though not desperately so.  She told me she forgot to paint and she needed to do that before we left.  She had seen painting stations at other preschools so she figured that was part of the deal.  I told her they didn't have painting today, but I imagined another day they would paint.  We went home and at lunch and took a nap.

On the surface, it seemed like it went well.  Underneath, my gut tells me a different story.  On the way to the car she wasn't listening very well.  Her behavior was questionable for the rest of the day, and she seemed... high strung.  To be fair, she was EXHAUSTED.  Last week we were at Disney (more on that later) and we were busy all weekend too.  She was so tired.  Then playing all morning certainly would have pushed her over the edge in exhaustion.  My gut still tells me that she was just emotionally and mentally stressed with the grown-upness of it all.  I'm prepared for her to not want me to leave at all on Friday, or next week.  Ultimately though it is a sweet sweet school and the teachers are lovely.  I believe it is a very nice setting for her first school experience.  My hope for her is to make one good friend and gain a little confidence and independence.  I think she will get more than that, but we shall see.

This girl amazes me.  Truly, she is sweet and kind and funny and smart.  I am so very very lucky to call myself her mama.