Do you ever have one of those moments in your day (as a parent) where you just want to say, “F*** it?” Where you think: I can’t do this, I am too overwhelmed, I am not up for this momentous task, and I just can’t be a parent anymore. And then you look into your child’s eyes, and know that the four-letter-word, “can’t,” can no longer be a part of your vocabulary?
Well, I am having one of those moments…RIGHT NOW! My head is pounding, and I have decided to take care of myself, and not go to Cinnamon’s Living Love class tonight. SHOCKER; it is a decision I rarely make (even on my birthday). But, stepping into my silk cheetah PJ’s, popping four Ibuprofen, and drinking hot detox tea, was just what I needed. Writing is therapeutic for me (just in case you hadn’t noticed), and in this vulnerable moment… I am willing to open myself genuinely. My hope? That I may help ease your suffering, as I ease mine. That you may find comfort in seeing the truth-that you are not alone.
As most of you know…my son has been one of my greatest teachers. He has taught me to listen to my heart. It may sound easy or even simple for you (I hope that is the case)…but it hasn’t been for me. I was taught to listen to the minds of my elders, teachers, pastors, and authority figures. Period. I was too fearful to not. While growing up, no one told me to listen to my own inner voice. In fact, I was discouraged from it. “Follow your heart? What? That is for dreamers who do nothing but sit around, smoke pot, and live in fantasy world. That is just plain stupid.”
Then our son was born. …continue reading
When I was a kid, I made my mother’s life a living hell. I swear, looking back I really do not know how she did it. I must have screwed up every single morning of
How many times were we told as children: “Clean your plate”, “Don’t talk with your mouth full”, “Don’t play with your food”? I’m not saying that our mothers, and those generations of mothers before us,