"When you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things, even in the eyes that are blind to beauty." Kahlil Gibran

Thursday, April 30, 2015

When Home Doesn't Feel Like Home Anymore

I was blessed enough to live all of my first eighteen years in one home. The majority of that time with both my mom and my dad. I was allowed to roam my neighborhood as a young elementary schooler. I got to play with the other children pretty much daily.

I'm sure there were problems in our town. Though I can't really name any specifically. Luckily for my generation there wasn't a huge drug problem; or vandalisms; or violence; or burglaries. Or countless other issues you could run across today.

My early years were spent running through backyards with my friends. Riding our bikes up and down the street. Not a care in the world. Unless, of course, you were caught riding across the resvoirs at the street department. Or climbing around on the salt piles where our road ended.

But, being kids we never really cared what anyone had to yell at us. Like the old man that always seemed to appear when we were doing exactly what we weren't supposed to. Most of the time, we rolled our eyes and hurried along our way. As all children tend to think, there was no way that disaster could befall us. No way that we were going to fall through those giant white slabs and drop down into the rushing water below.

My adult self now incredibly thankful that our neighborhood had such a sense of community. In those days, the "it takes a village" mindset really was in full effect and I can't even begin to fully imagine how this aided in keeping the children in our area safe. I don't remember seeing parents hovering over their children because they didn't. We knew our boundaries and tested them sparingly because we knew our asses would be had if we pushed them too far.

We weren't afraid of someone pulling up and trying to lure us away. Our parents weren't concerned that we'd befriend someone who would introduce us to street drugs. The worst thing you may find discarded was a random beer bottle in an alleyway.

Every summer those boundaries we were given stretched a little farther. Bike rides became longer adventures to explore the unknown. Still no worries of strangers lurking in the dark because we were too focused on our destination.

Frequently heading north on the alley behind my house because we'd wind up at my favorite candy store, Westfall's. Ran by a nice couple who typically knew exactly what I wanted. A small brown paper bag of tootie fruities. Blue, pink, green, and purple. And never skimping on the peachies and gummy worms.

By the time I was a teenager I became pretty familiar with many areas. I spent summer's with friends at the local swimming pool. Hung out at the pizza place on Union street playing pool and socializing. I spent many summer night's walking through town carefree and enjoying my youth.

Fast forward to now and I'm amazed at the differences I see. I know it isn't exclusively my hometown that has felt the affects of our sickening society. But, I also know that not every city has felt it quite as harshly as mine has either.

I can't remember locking our house one time growing up, let alone our car. If you chose to do that now, however, you might as well send invites to the criminals to anything of value that you own. And please forget letting your children roam the neighborhoods now. Even when there isn't a fear of a pedophile or kidnapping, you have to worry about them finding discarded needles from the junkies that inhabit the town.

When did this happen? When did the people in our town become some destructive and selfish?

The saddest part about moving from my hometown hasn't been missing my family and friends. It's been having to be so far away and watch helplessly as the place I always connected with love and growth morphs into one of drugs and violence.

I may not have always appreciated the place that I am from, but as I have grown older my focuses have grown as well. Things that didn't matter to me way back then mean so much more now.

When I start reading the local news articles from back home it makes me realize that I can't fathom allowing my children do half of what I was allowed to do when I was a kid. This small town is going to Hell in a handbasket and it breaks my heart. The worst of it being that the names that I constantly read in these news segments are familiar names of those I use to know.

I can close my eyes and think of numerous memories of us living it up as kids and my brain hurts knowing where that lead them. It makes it real to me. It makes me thankful I grew up and chose a different life. It makes me wish there was something I could do to help them.

So instead I turn to this. A small message from me to them, from me to whomever really.

It takes one moment to make a decision. A decision to change your circumstances. It's time to stop making excuses for your behavior and start accepting that what you are doing right now isn't just affecting you and your family, but the entire town you live in.

Heroin and meth are a big deal. Addiction is a real thing. Overdosing is a real outcome. You are ruining lives. Including your own. If your "friends" and your family won't take the time to be honest with you about your choices, I will.

You are selfish. You are irresponsible. You are wrong. You are not, however, beyond help. Nor are you doomed to be a bad person for the rest of your life. Make a choice to do what's not only right for you, but for the people around you. I believe in you.

I want you to know it isn't entirely your fault. A lot of you are victims of circumstance or are socially predispositioned to venture down a specific path in life. I recognize there are so many pieces of you that are enriching and thoughtful. Focused on growing and stablizing. There are parts of you that are flourishing and helping those around you. I just wish with all my might that you would spend more time putting those focuses forward.

Life goes by in what feels like an instant. What kind of society are you setting up for your children to live in? Imagine that one day those drugs you push through wind up in your teenager's veins. Imagine that it wasn't them that put it there, but a "friend" who pressured them to do it. Imagine a call from the police that your child has overdosed and is being rushed to the hospital. Imagine planning that baby's funeral.

This isn't extreme. This is a reality for countless families. Right there in our town.

It's time to grow up. It's time to say enough is enough. It's time to start thinking about other peoples right to exist in a safe and drug free environment.

Whether your selling, using, or just looking the other way, you need to recognize you are part of the problem. Reach out and ask for help. It doesn't make you weak. It makes you someone to be admired. Someone who is strong enough to know when they can't do it alone. Someone who a person can respect. Get serious about your life before it's too late. 

I have hope for you which gives me hope for our town too. It exists in the people striving to clean the mess up. People that are trying to bring life back into that place of love and growth. That place etched in the heart of our inner children. The place that we should preserve for our own children. The next generation growing up on the same streets we grew up on.

Creating new memories there shouldn't include drugs and crime. Our ten year olds shouldn't know where that syringe on the ground came from. Our eight year olds should be able to play in their own backyard with their neighborhood friends without their parents having to keep surveillance on the area. You should be able to trust your friends and family.

As clichè as it sounds, every person really can make a difference. Chances are you know someone who is having a rough time. Whether it's their own fault or not doesn't matter. Spending all your time and energy focusing on the problem (those people) instead of a solution (getting them help) is only spreading gasoline on the fire. It's time you put fault aside and reach out. You could be the person that turns someone's life around. Which in turn will slowly begin to revive our town.

The town with which, in it's current state, I could never imagine bringing my own children back to. The town that currently holds so many of my loved ones whom I worry about everyday. The town that I so fondly remember. The town that will always be my home even if right now it doesn't feel like it.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Spoiler Alert : I Yell At My Kids ( And I'm Not Ashamed )

I don't know about you, but my days seem to always find a theme. Sometimes I notice it right away, other times the theme becomes apparent when I'm settling in for the night and reminiscing over the day's events.

Today's theme reared it's ugly head by 8 a.m. by which time every single one of the kids had already been yelled at.

Yeah. I'm a yeller. I have two modes really, yell and yell louder.

I threaten and send to bedrooms. I get exasperated and over explain. I ask rhetorical questions and try (mostly without success) to not lose my shit. I am not a perfect mom and usually feel incredibly bad afterward. But a lot of times I don't. And I'll tell you why.

I know that I could handle myself better. That I could close my eyes and count to 10. Or remove myself from the situation. Sometimes I definitely do, I mean everyone has their limits. My children tend to test mine frequently. I know I could "use my words" as I often advise my children.

But do you know what I never do instead?

I never put down my kids.
I never shut down their emotions.
I never get physical.
I never judge them.
I never forget to apologize when I'm wrong.
I never forget to point out what they did right.
I never forget to say I still love you.

Sometimes my overly emotional (currently hormonal pregnant) self reacts first and thinks later. Sometimes when I say shut up and find something to do, what I really mean is I love you child, but I'm in a bad mood and need you to find something to do before I go insane and take everyone with me.

I know they're young and are still learning, but please forgive me for noticing that kids are assholes. Even my adorably innocent bunch who I'd walk through fire for.

I refuse to beat myself up for losing my cool when they push every button I have before my morning cup of coffee has even started to get hot. On days where I'm more of a referee than a parent I feel like it should be completely understandable that I need to yell to be heard; and even more importantly, believed. Especially when my voice has to carry over the five heathens shrieking and squawking at my feet.

Getting down on myself isn't productive for anyone. I can tell you where feeling overly guilty and constantly doubtful leads you; to the corner of Anxiety Pkwy and Depression Ave. Been there, done that, not going back.

I know sometimes I'm not the best mom I could be, but I never doubt that I am a good mom. Despite spending the first several years of motherhold being openly judged and ridiculed for my decisions. I chose to stop letting others opinions dictate the way I parent my kids.

Reality is harsh and wanting to protect my kids from it is a natural instinct. However, there are certain realities that I knowingly expose them to. One being that sometimes the only way to vent your frustrations is to open your mouth and let it out. That, of course, isn't a go ahead to verbally abuse someone, but it's my way of saying it's normal to lose your shit every now and then.

Many may disagree, but I will embrace that decision to the fullest. Just because my view is different than some on how these realities will affect their future selves will never make me feel like I'm wrong.

So while I'm over here barely hanging on by the loose thread at the bottom of my yoga pants, my kids are tiptoeing through the house so as not to disturb the resting beast. Maybe not the best way to win over all the Mommy Shamers who may criticize my techniques, but I'm completely ok with that. At least for the moment I'm sitting in quiet, relaxing my now sore vocal cords.