Don’t Put that Bead in Your Nose!

I wanted to share something that happened this week at chez moi. I’m not proud of everything that happened, but the outcome and learning moment make it all worth it for me to be vulnerable with you here.

So, as a preface to this, my youngest had a similar story where she put a (linden) seed up her nose on Labour Day weekend 2 years ago. It ended up at the emergency ward of our local hospital, right before we were to empark on our end-of-summer weekend excursion. Even the doctors there were baffled how to get the seed out of her nose, it was that much of an ordeal. So, you would think we all learned from that experience.

You would think…

So now, picture us this week, at 8:15 on a school morning, frantically running around getting ready for the day – 4 lunches, 4 snacks, 4 bags, morning layers for the cooler weather, slurping up a few sips of almost hot coffee, brushing teeth, getting vitamins, finding keys: You know the drill, mornings are not the friend of parents with wee kids.

My son happily declares he found a bead under the table. Why he was there i can’t tell you. I know it’s not his bead but it’s not common for him to be the finder so i congratulated him on the find, like it was a gold coin or something. I look at it and then promptly continue dashing around finishing my morning routine on speed. I then hear this –

“Uh mom, THE BEAD IS STUCK IN MY NOSE.” Yes, the capitals are there for the frantic sound in his voice.

My partner is in the same room as him but had his back turned as he was washing the dishes. I am down the hall. And i react to his plea. Ready for this: This is the part i am not proud of but i have learned from it, i promise. I say (i mean yell from the other room) –

“Are you kidding me?! Really!? Do you not remember your sister and how we had to take her to emerg! We don’t have time to take you there, we need to get to school and work today! You are the big brother, you should know better!” To be far, i don’t know if i actually said that last line but i said the rest almost verbatim.

I think sweep in and say “i got this” out loud. I know just what to do. My partner and daughter are getting a wee bit excitable too, and now we are all thinking of running to emerg. After i try to get him to blow his nose, unsuccessfully because he HATES blowing it and would rather snort boogers in, i then remember this gem of a video i watched recently. Thank goodness for social media because i voluntarily watched a video of a mom and her sweet baby happily clean her nose like a pro. I dash upstairs for my medicine syringe and neti pot. I dash downstairs and get my son to breathe with me first. He is clearly scared so I tell him it may be uncomfortable but “i’ve got this.” I then walk him through it and after 3 separate squirts of water in one nostril, out pops the bead out of the other side.

Brilliant.

We all hoop and holler and celebrate. I dance for my son and myself – i am not usually the one that is quick on my feet but i felt like Wonder Woman that day. My son comes up to me and says “thanks for helping me with that.” And i look him squarely in the eye and say “i will always be there for you, to help you with anything. And i’m sorry that i was not more supportive right away. I regret my first reaction and i know it wasn’t supportive. I over-reacted and was worried for you. Will you forgive me?” We hugged and he said of course. Later that day, i again apologized for my less-than-supportive initial response. He said “Mom, you already said that.” I just really wanted him to hear that i was sorry – i don’t want him to ever feel like he can’t come to me for stuff. That is not the parent i want to be.

I know it was a mistake, and i partly blame my flight or fight reaction to the crisis. I’m human too, even when i know better. But i’m sharing this with you as it was a great learning moment for me on how to really say sorry, and to show my kids that i have their back. And how to clean out a nose of course.

PS. We got to school on time too.

It Takes a Village

I’ve been thinking a lot about the support we need to be on top of this whole parenting gig. I think we have swung a bit too far away from being there for each other and instead merely being there on the periphery. I think our need to feel independent, successful, competent, and strong baits us away from asking for help, being vulnerable, and reaching out to give support too.

Recently, a friend of mine told me that she had been in my daughter’s class when a fire drill happened. My friend shared with me that she was present and noticed that my daughter was reacting to the shrill sounds. I love that they found each other, and my friend (a seasoned mom of 3 herself, among other amazing skills and accomplishments) was able to provide my wee girl with the reassurance and safety net she needed.

This is the village i speak of: One where my daughter can look to another adult in the room and seek comfort. She knows this woman as a friend of mine, as an ally to her, and as another mom herself. I love that my daughter can go to someone for cuddles when she needs it.

I also need this support sometimes too. I’ve shared already about the nurturing acts of self-care i so rely on, and the activities that provide me comfort (like going outdoors, music, creative art expressions) but i also just need a break sometime so i can come back refreshed. I realized recently that the village i need is one that provides me with a break when i ask (and also when it’s intuitively offered), acknowledges the hard work it is to raise children, and allows me to be raw – honest, messy, vulnerable, authentic, and imperfect.

So, for me the village is not one that is trying to also parent my children. It is not one that is telling my kids to eat their dinner or to discipline them for me. It is not one where i feel even more judged and ostracized. It is not one where the villagers have such different family values and parenting styles. I would love a break from the anger i am starting to feel rise up, from the frustration of yet another argument. I’d love an offer of taking my kids out to play, or to have someone else take the lead when my energy is tapped out. I need a village with others who share similar values and styles. Or at least have empathy and a loving ear to listen to me complain.

I really appreciate the great groups that have formed that find solace in our struggles, and offer a chance to commiserate as well as empower. I really appreciate when someone can pick up on another person’s struggle and offer a cup of tea, an active ear, a playdate, wine in the front yard. Groups can be on-line, in-person, formal, drop-in, or just merely a chance meeting.

If you don’t yet have a village, start small. A village needs to start somewhere – Be it a deserted island, a party of one for dinner. Find ways to build your village, create a circle of support where you know where to turn to for what support. I love this tool and use it a lot in my work, when i’m learning more about the support someone else has, or doesn’t. Having never lived in a village, i admit i have a warped sense of it. I assume there’s a vulnerability in having your dirty laundry aired out (like when you yell and your neighbours hear, or when you dump your kids’ toys in the trash for all to see). But it is also a way to show solidarity, and to feel united, and to also feel human. It can be a village that you create, grow and nurture rather than one that you are stuck in and cannot leave. You can set the tone and create your own village with a clear intention of what you need.

Do you have a village? Want to join mine? New members are always welcome.

Happy Mother’s Day

As today closes, i wanted to take a moment to honour the day. I know there are some of us that today would have been hard – both for our own relationships with our mothers and also because we are not mothers as we wish we could be.

I work with women who are mothers but don’t have their children in their lives. I support women who are wanting to be mothers but haven’t yet be given this gift, i also am a mother who has experienced miscarriage as so many of us have. There are families who have had to go through IVF and advocate for their right to be parents. And there are more still of us who have lost our own mothers. Today may have been a ‘made up holiday’ as some are quick to mention. But it is a special day nonetheless, where classrooms, storefronts, and TV spots alike all highlighting the fact. It definitely makes it hard for those of us that are triggered by today.

I read about the history and significance of Mother’s Day. Did you know it has some roots in peace and anti-war work? While it has been celebrated for even longer, our more recent version was created by a mom in the late 1880s who was frustrated that she had to mourn the loss of her child. In fact, the first era of Mother’s Days was to acknowledge the loss mothers feel when their children die. It sure has changed since then.

This year, i made a point to request (demand?) what i wanted to do for today. I got to stay in bed and read. I got a delicious homemade brunch in the comfort of my own home, and we got to stroll around a neighbourhood i love. Yes there were sibling squabbles between the kids, yes there was a near-disaster when having dinner out, and yes i had to remind the kids it was my special day. But for all that, i did create that time for me. I am one of the lucky ones. And i got to hear that i was the best mommy from both my kids. My son’s tooth fell out, and i got to carry my 5 year old for a few blocks more than i should have. All in a day’s worth. And very fitting for today.

I bought this shirt recently. It was a gift to myself. I love the way it calls to me – both that it reminds me that i am strong and that being strong to me is a personal thing. I don’t want to be strong like anyone else, or to feel that being strong means to not cry, to be invincible. I also know that mothers can be strong for using an epidural, for not using any meds during birth, for adopting, for nursing for 3 years, for weaning when it was best for us, for yet another month without conceiving, for challenging someone’s oppressive view of who a parent should be. Strong means sometimes asking for help, and it can also mean just letting go of our own expectations and giving in to the tears. Strong mama does not mean being strong like a man. Whatever that means.

I wear this shirt to remind me to be strong when i don’t feel like it. And it remind you too, that we are in this today – we can be ‘strong like a mother’ in any way that works for us. It’s a good mantra. We may need that reminder at times, and that’s okay. Being strong is knowing what we need, and doing what we have to do remain strong. It doesn’t have to mean stubborn, but rather staying true to what’s important to you.

How can you be strong as a mother? I encourage you to find a way that fits for you. Happy Mother’s Day to all of us.

A Day to Recognize

Today marks World Maternal Mental Health Day. It’s part of Mental Health Week that is honoured here in Canada. I wanted to take a moment to honour and play tribute to the many women and parents who have experienced any form of hardship, pain and suffering in their identity as a parent. It can be ugly, isolating, and scary at times for sure.

Our society definitely still paints an unjust and judgmental lens on mental health issues in general. This makes it so hard for new parents to reach out for support. New mothers are told that they should be in love with their newborn at first site, that the pain is worth it, that they will get sleep when their kids are teens, and that we are to suck it up.

That is so far from the truth and the opposite of supportive. As a mother myself, i definitely had to learn as i went when my children were newborns. I feel like i was a lucky one when it came to my postpartum life, even with a somewhat traumatic birth of my first. That said, there are still things that i felt too scared to voice and ask for support with. Like i was supposed to love being alone with my baby all day long. Each and every day. Like we were supposed to nap all the time, and i never felt (internal or external) pressure to have it all and do it all.

I’m not sure if it’s because i am immersed in supporting new parents now, or if it’s really the case, but i appreciate seeing all the blog writers, the celebrities, the ads and documentaries on this topic that is do dear to me. Maybe it was there 8 years ago when i was pregnant with my first. But maybe not and we are doing better now.

In my work, one thing that i really love is helping the women i support to build a wellness toolkit for themselves. I know one of the hardest things is to feel like we have or deserve time for ourselves. But we do – we can’t give from an empty cup (oh how i love that quote!). So, my gift to you today, on World Maternal Mental Health Day is access to some tools i have created, especially this one: Building Your Wellness Toolkit. Feel FREE to download and print it. It’s a worksheet that helps you look at ways you can provide yourself with some good self-care. When you need it. When you deserve it. Each and every day. Fill your cup.

The Resilient Butterfly

“Perhaps the butterfly is proof that you can go through a great deal of darkness and still become something beautiful”

I’m not sure who the source to that quote is but i love it. And, i love butterflies. Not just because part of my name stems from the word butterfly, nor because they are pretty and whimsical – though both are true. But, rather, they are a perfect symbol of resiliency, vulnerability and exquisite risk.

I recently updated my logo to connect to this path that women take when finding themselves, re-finding themselves, and taking time to take care of themselves. The butterfly is you, and it’s perched on my name, as i feel like i am here to hold space for you while you are on this journey to heal. I act as a tool to help ground you, but really believe that you are doing the work yourself to heal, connect, move forward, and take risks. I am so honoured to be a part of this journey with you.

I like that the butterfly is perched and yet still in flight. Like she is ready to take off when needed, and to hold the power of her own safety and path. Very symbolic as it connects to our journeys in healing and being in therapy. It’s not by chance that i landed on this butterfly image. I had lovely and long chats with my pal who is a creative designer to get to this place that feels like it speaks to the work i do.

A few years ago, i attended a training on post-traumatic growth and resiliency. The presenter is a social worker from the States who shared more about the steps we take in order to heal and hopefully reach resiliency. She spoke of the butterfly’s journey from caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly. To think of how such a fragile and yet strong creature can show such strength and resiliency!

Recently, Tara Brach posted a great podcast where she spoke about the exquisite risk people take when actively engaging in their vulnerability. I loved how she too connected the narrative of a butterfly and the path they take. She goes further to say it’s actually arrested development when we don’t take these risks in being vulnerable. Take a listen when you have a moment.

I’m starting to see the Spring moths and butterflies dance by me as i’m outdoors. I love to take a pause in what i’m doing to say hello and thank them for their trust in the world. I know that may sound cheesy, but their greeting is also a chance for me to slow down, take stock in my day, and to honour my own journey too.

Next time you see a butterfly, say hello!

(image above by From a drawing by W. I. Beecroft: THE SILVER-SPOTTED SKIPPER)