My Midlife Crisis

I messed up...well I possibly messed up....I could have messed up....some people thought I messed up.....I didn't mean to mess up....

Basically, without going into the details that caused the "mess up", I defended one of my children, publicly, and by that I mean on social media. Well my intention had been to defend or rather "set the record straight" about said child. I might have done it in a snarky, possibly passive aggressive way, but I'll be honest I was furious and so I acted or some might say reacted.

Confused yet? Don't worry it's not really what this is about....

Anyway the child I was trying to defend did not like it AT ALL. There is the very real possibility that she (obviously that pronoun just narrowed down the choices of which child) is far more strong and resilient than I am. She definitely doesn't care what people think as much as I do. Man I want to be her when I grow up, but back to the story. She was mad and /or hurt by what I did. I got defensive. Another child got involved. I got more defensive. For crying out loud (and yes I was crying) I was just trying to be a good mother, a loving mother, a supportive mother--basically a Hallmark movie mother and instead they were treating me (I told myself) like the mother from the movie Psycho.

We all went to bed; we weren't speaking.

I got up in the morning still nursing my wounds as I sat down for my morning prayer time. One of the books I read every morning is Mark Nepo's The Book of Awakening (I highly recommend it although I may have thrown it down last Monday). He writes, "In my own life, it is not by chance that struggling to adulthood with a domineering and critical mother, I have been thrust again and again into situations with dominant men and women, struggling painfully for their approval and fearing their rejection." (p. 42) Parts of it rang all too true. As I read it over and over I also remembered years ago when SK was around 12 she said to me, "I need you to be the mother I need, not the mother you needed." (Damn it stinks having such insightful children....)


My mind began swirling like the tornado in The Wizard of Oz going from black and white to technicolor and back again and again. Lots went through my mind including understanding why I was so hurt by my children's response the night before. I was struggling painfully for their approval and fearing their rejection AND I was trying to be a good mother AND I was trying to be my authentic self. Somehow the three collided and it wasn't pretty--for anyone.

Later that morning as I was sitting in the dentist's chair (which is a whole other blog yet to come), I decided I was going to get back in touch with me. I was going to claim my own identity. My very very wise therapist often says the process of children and parents differentiating during the teen and young adult years is never pretty. As I sat in the chair holding my mouth open perfectly (stay tuned for that blog), I realized her statement a) is true and b) it goes both ways. Children are figuring out their own identities and parents have to either remember who they were pre-children or who they are now as their children leave home. So I decided I was going to have my very own midlife crisis and I'm not going to care what anyone says (well the first part of that statement is true...)

What would make me happy? What was making me unhappy?  THE BATHROOM!!!

It is always a mess no matter how many times I beg, plead, yell or cry. Granted it's not large and currently four adults are all using the same one,
but it still made me crazy. "But alas", I thought "we have another full bathroom in the basement." The basement bathroom used to be designated "the male bathroom." (Inch by inch and step by step those sneaky males crept up to the "girls' bathroom" and took root.) I came home from the dentist and began moving MY things to the basement. Then I went out and bought new towels (orange of course); I organized and made it my own. It felt so good and peaceful and a little bit selfish and extravagant (clearly I don't get out enough...)

I didn't stop with the bathroom....

What else would make me happy? BAKING BREAD!!!!

For years every week I baked sourdough bread. We ate it but I also gave it away. It was my way of expressing love and care for others. Several years ago the family asked me to stop. They said they liked it too much and they were trying not to eat so many carbs. They had a point (or so I thought then) and so I threw out my starter and stopped baking.

After the bathroom was the way I wanted it, I rushed up the steps to my recipe file and found my starter recipe and raced to the grocery store for the ingredients. I realized the family may not be happy about this, and I began having conversations in my head. I settled with, "Just because they have no self control doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to do what I want." A rather dramatic and not entirely true statement, but it felt good....

Looking back the whole story is kind of ridiculous--not the part about my child hurting, but my response to the criticism. (although I still love my new bathroom)Yesterday's reading in the Nepo book said, "Like many of us, I seem to be continually challenged not to hide who I am. Over and over, I keep finding myself in situations that require me to be all of who I am in order to make my way through. (p.49)

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I think the hardest part of this whole being authentic thing is realizing not everyone will like you (oh boy another blog I've been refusing to write) and that even those who like or love you may not always like or love what you say or do. BUT that doesn't mean they will reject you.

I'm on my third year with this book. I read it each morning along with saying morning prayer. The two continually coincide with themes. Last week the Isaiah reading said, "For the mountains may depart and the hills be removed, but my steadfast love shall not depart from you, and my covenant of peace shall not be removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on you." Do I really believe that? Most days...and really that's the problem or rather the way to the solution. If we can't truly and completely trust that God will never leave us or stop loving us no matter what we do, then how can we trust humans to do the same?

It's a process...

(And the other positive about my new bathroom is the number of steps I get going up and down two flights from our bedroom...)