Release: Part 6, The House

This one is really tied up in Identity too. For the past 9 years I've called myself the Mistress of Hatton House. The house restoration was my thesis and the reason I went to graduate school, the reason for my involvement in the local movement and government. It has been the only thing I talked about, my ice breaker, my lecture topic, my example.......my portfolio for assessment.

I am releasing all of that into the hands of strangers? Preparing my house for sale has been a heartbreaking, gut wrenching process and one I wonder if that inner ego of mine isn't sabotaging the effort. The house is mine, so shall another be. I do not belong to the house. It is a large gracious house, but a needy mistress in constant need of attention and care.

Since moving here, my non-fiction prose abilities have flourished but my poetry all but disappeared. I stopped painting, drawing, and colouring. All creative resources I had mentally and physically went into the house. My thesis was completed but the manuscript was not: it is stalled out and I know why. It's a long, hard goodbye. A novel, one chapter from completion.

Something changed when Lil'Bug came into our lives. The new form of our family became our story. What a grand adventure! I realized that the life we had been living was in no small part tied to my childhood hurt......thoughts went swirling- the happy part was on a farm. I loved living on a farm! Driving to a rural campus over landscape that touched these memories, that's when the dreaming began. Then I whispered it to husband. That whisper took hold of us and it is what we are actively working towards. It will be easier to say goodbye once we are closer to that goal, I imagine. Part of me will always be the Mistress of Hatton House......

Release: Part 5, Trust/Gentleness

I've been reading over at Happy and Free almost every morning. Stephanie has been writing these lovely posts about the parenting aspects of the unschooled and she is articulating something that has been swirling in my mind the last year or so. Everyone chooses what works for them and their families. I am on a quest to find what works for me and my family.

I want to be a gentle parent. I did not grow up with that. Sometimes I am worried that I will go too far in the direction away from that, that I will miss gentle and become negligent. I don't want that either. I have a deep respect for my child as an individual that began before she was born: I used to say, "I can't wait to meet her!" It's true. Everyday I wake up and I can't wait to get to know her better. I don't want to hurt her or her spirit so I have chosen not to use physical discipline.

I do get frustrated. Frustration is not working for me. The problem as I am coming to see it though is that my voice does not have to be elevated in volume to be "yelling". I tried something else. It worked much better, but I am worried over it too. I calmly said, "I am angry about what you are doing and this is why." I worry that in not portraying anger that I seemed like a robot.

It comes down to this metaphor: I never learned how to cook. In fact I was taught how to cook wrong on purpose so a very un-confident person could always upstage me and "save" the meal. That is not right to do to a child since cooking food is a life skill, and much intuitive. Parenting is like that for me too- everything I was taught and raised with was wrong. Not different- wrong. I know this, I know much of my intuition comes from this place. I knew this before we decided to have children and I was working on it then. I had to work on it in our marriage and as a person too. So when I welcomed my little one, I was much healed. I needed to read parenting books, try things out, and live it differently.

Lil'Bug is three years old. I've been reading about others who have children this age and are struggling with willfulness, disobedience, and other issues. I see manifestations of these things and I understand them to be a breakdown of communication. Lil'Bug doesn't disobey because usually when I've asked her to do something, I've asked and she sees it as a choice. Her stubbornness is usually a difference in how the situation is viewed. How would I deal with these situations if she was another adult? Sometimes the things parents do to children are humiliating and we would never consider doing them to a peer. We would never pick up and forcibly remove a peer from a situation, or pinch, or hit. Why? They would get physical right back. But we do this to children, why wouldn't they fight back sooner than later? Why do we as adults need to exert power over children and make them do things? Perhaps we do not trust ourselves? Perhaps it is easier to play the, "I'm bigger than you," card. Do we remove them to save ourselves embarrassment during a fit or to find a quiet place for resolution or spare them humiliation? (Removing from danger, not included.) Sometimes resolution is best found in the loud and noisy place, but easier removed.

So, I need to release myself from this bond of mistrust in myself as a parent. Breathe gentleness.

Release: Part 4, Baby Anxieties

I suffered postpardum depression with Lil'Bug, though I did not acknowledge it at the time. I was overwhelmed and unsure and nothing I did or wanted to do seemed to work: the sling I bought, breastfeeding, just holding her or sleeping. It was hard. It never got easier. I was given a sling that fit me, I learned to breastfeed her, and we slowly discovered how to live with each other. It was not the Pottery Barn fantasy I was sold.

Even though things got better, I was relieved to go back to work, to hand her over, to have a big long break to get back to myself and who I was before. And oh the guilt. It was fine for a while, but then life started happening. Everything unraveled quite rapidly. Babysitter quit, family was stressed, baby needed me, my studies were more intense. At that point Lil'Bug was 9 months old. I made a choice to be her mother more so than I was doing. I walked away from the me me me.

I won't get a 9 month break with 8 hour gaps of no kid time to figure things out this time. If I had PPD then, what will happen now? This time I will have Lil'Bug running at full speed too, it will be summer, Dearest Husband will still have to work and travel, we might move soon after........the anxiety mounts.

But why? Those can be seen as positives too. I shall release the anxieties for what they are. Then, in June, I will release the joy from my body and hold her in my arms.

Lil'Bug can share our joy and help. I know how to breastfeed, I have a sling that fits, I know how to change a diaper and bathe and dress a baby (right, did not know before Lil'Bug.....), I have a friend network of other mothers AND I have no marketed disillusions like before. There will be poop, sleepless nights, more poop, gross stuff, and......I had to work through it with Lil'Bug to learn this.

I will love and cherish everyone of those fleeting moments as they come.

Release: Part 3, Identity

This is trickier. I was once a star prodigy in our local Historic Preservation movement. I was named by the local paper as a new leader to be watched in local politics. I served, youngest member ever, on a City Commission and on two statewide boards, and served as a curator at a local museum. All before age 28. Then I completed my MA in Historic Preservation/History/Writing. I was called when a sweet job opening came up at the State Agency that oversees all things historic architectural in Iowa (didn't take it though). The list goes on.

Getting pregnant and having Lil'Bug did not slow me down even a little bit- I just put on a sling and took her with me. Then my babysitter quit. I got a call from the local jr. college to teach. I quit my 40/7 job and took a teaching position that was 15/5 plus work at home. I was in negotiations with investors for a house rehab business when one of them expressed concern that I wouldn't be able to handle a toddler plus all that would be required for this business.

Then it all stopped. He was right. I couldn't handle it all. Or I could, but my family couldn't. Something would give and it would all shatter.

I resigned my posts. I cut back teaching even more and took up online classes. I finished my degree.

I miss it. I miss the limelight. I miss people, news reporters, and friends calling me for sound bytes and advice. But if given the choice again, I would not choose it. I would choose my family. I would choose the path that I am on now. The old life was constant running and social activity with no real personal connections. I need to find a way to release my sadness and maybe find a way to fill the need that the other things did. It was problem solving, creating beauty, and having a positive impact on my community.

Hmmmm.... Parenting does all those things too! ;) I think what I need is to further my quest to make it to the farm life we've been dreaming of. Maybe work on my novels. Paint. Photograph. Re-establish my identity to myself. Really nothing is missing, just a definition to myself. The ability to say, I'm a mother AND an artist, writer, ect. Why do I need those definitions anyway? Why can't I just be me, simple, no labels? That's fodder for another day. ;)