Pages

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Finding my momself

This morning found me bright and early in a snowy parking lot filled with other minivans and SUVs, extracting a wriggling and highly enthusiastic toddler from his carseat to enter the dragon: preschool.

I don't know if you're supposed to cry or something at such a moment (I'm pretty sure you are) but I didn't. Honestly I kind of peeled out of the parking lot after handing off Mr. not-so-much-as-a-backward-glance to his sweet teacher, but that perhaps had more to do with the ice-slicked road than with my untempered enthusiasm. But only just.

I want to say it was a leisurely morning of coffee-sipping and paper reading, but I basically looked down at my phone and realized it wast already time to go pick him up. But it was still a nice break to be back to a 1:2 ratio, if only temporarily. And I think John Paul's vocabulary increased by 300% in the 3 hours while Joey wasn't speaking over him/shout-translating his needs. Snuggly one-on-one time with the middle child: priceless.

When I ventured back at pickup time the tears didn't start flowing exactly, but a thin layer of mist may have sprung to my eyes when Joey spotted me standing in the parent reception area and busted down the door and flung himself around my knees, grinning a mile wide, his teacher in hot pursuit. It turns out you have to wait to be dismissed, buddy, but Mommy is forever grateful for that rare and oh so genuine display of public affection.

We went out to our favorite brunch spot to mark the occasion afterwards, since his first day of school was essentially a random Tuesday in January, and party we did: gluten free french toast with caramel sauce for the little man and a butterless biscuit and black chicory coffee for me. (Lucille's, for any of you lucky local readers. The absolute pinnacle of Denver breakfast dining. We frequent the Littleton location perhaps a tad too frequently.)

Between sips of coffee and relaxing conversation with my sweet visiting sister-in-law, I made two or twenty trips to the bathroom to wipe/wash/change a variety of small people's personal effects, and on one of those trips I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the full length and the very first thing that popped into my head was that I look good for having three little kids.  

The realization stopped me in my tracks. And I don't mean the realization that I do, in fact, look pretty good. But the realization that I recognized it and acknowledged it, not in some forced self-affirming exercise, but organically and automatically, even. Like, it was my first response.

That tells me something. This whole Wellness Project business? It's changing me. Retraining my damaged brain that for years has been sending erroneous messages of not good enough and never going to be and replacing them with accurate insights like pretty good, all things considered and objectively beautiful and, perhaps my favorite, honestly trying.

I have spent so many years speaking words of death and destruction and discouragement to myself without consciously realizing it, but it had become the silent soundtrack to my inner space. But now that I'm doing concrete, tangible things to refute those faulty claims of failure and shortcoming, my brain is startled awake, unable to continue playing the same tired tracks. I have to find a new soundtrack. And yes, for the record, it's awkward as hell to say nice things about yourself, even if it's only in your head. But that doesn't mean they shouldn't be said.

So today, my one thing? It was recognizing that the broken soundtrack isn't playing anything worth listening to, any more, and pushing through the awkwardness of the new sounds of truth ringing in my brain.

A little over the top today, admittedly, but I'm blaming it on preschool.

5 comments:

  1. I hear a broken record inside myself (and about myself) for things other than my appearance too. I just listened to a podcast on Sunday that asserted there are three steps to effectively affirm new thoughts. If we choose to accept whatever minor or major situation/state we're in and then be mindful and fully participating (rather than distracted), then the affirmations we tell ourselves will really sink in. Maybe you're already doing all of this by the nature of this wellness project. Loved reading this & excited for more to unfold for you (and all of us). :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow, I had a similar thought sometime after having my 5th baby. I knew I had a ways to go to get back to "normal" but I thought, how amazing is it to have helped produce 5 kids and still be standing here strong and somewhat put together? I wish those moments were my inner soundtrack ALL the time, but I'll take them whenever I can get them! And you do look awesome!

    ReplyDelete
  3. So glad the first day of preschool went well! And I also say those things - "I look good for someone who has birthed 5 children" "I look good for someone my age" "I'm in great shape for someone....." and so on. And it's true! Although I try not to "compare" with others, but it does make me feel good about myself to realize that I'm doing okay. My thing for today? Hanging in my pjs with the kids as we ride out Snowpocalypse, Atlanta style.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I like that you tagged this feminine genius as I am sure JPII would recognize that going on. Hooray for breaking that boring, defeated soundtrack! I was inspired by this to go for a walk in the 15 minutes of sun we had in northern michigan today!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Yep. Negative self-talk is a B. Good for you for giving it the smackdown. :-)

    ReplyDelete

Is your email linked to your comment? I'd love to respond to you directly, but I can't if it's not!