Andrea Burlingame

----- Original Message -----

Sandra said:

> The "no" that is a problem is when the cookies are sitting right there and
> the mom says no. It's impossible for a child to eat what's not there, so
it's
> not the same kind of "no."

I know it's different, and my kids do to. Even when Stella (4) groans about
it, I can tell she is just expressing her dissapointment about not having
any, and isn't really mad at me for saying no.

I still feel badly about having to say no in this situation, though, and if
I'm not careful, that bad feeling turns outward towards the kids. I've
recently become more aware of how my feelings of guilt and inadequacy can
hurt them. When I have to say no to ice cream because our car is still
broken and the ice cream will melt on the bus ride home, or because I just
can't afford something as basic as more butter to make cookies until next
week, it is so frustrating! I feel so lame and I defensively lash out at
them.

I will say that now that I am taking the time to more closely examine my own
angry feelings, instead of letting them consume me so much, I can see a
possible end to this vicious cycle. Yesterday was hell for me as far as
feeling like such a total needy, lame, unable-to-provide parent. I know it
made made my husband feel pretty shitty too--probably worse than me, because
he is the income-provider and definitely takes his percieved, and actual
role as our protector pretty seriously.

Anyway, my 3 yo baby girl, Annie, falls down on a rusty nail and punctures
her knee fairly deeply. I call Ron in Portland to tell him, and we both
agree that she needs a tetanus shot (we opted out of vaccinations early on
with plans to do tetanus later when they were old enough to do play in dirt
and stuff and possibly get hurt in just the way Annie did--only we just
hadn't gotten around to it yet--bad, bad, bad). Well, my car is broken, so
it's the bus. The next one would go by my house at 5:30, only a 1/2 hour
away. Problem is there is only 10 minutes from when I get to the hospital
15-20 miles down the peninsula to when the next and final bus going towards
my home goes by the hospital. I have no cash...just checks, and my new
debit card is being sent in the mail, so a taxi, would not only be
expensive, but I don't really have a way to pay for one. Oh well, the ER
doctor says it would be much better if we come in right away rather than
wait for morning. Says they'll be quick so we can catch that return bus.
He's really nice, but I still get a 10 minute lecture about how important it
is to vaccinate. Turns out they're out of the vaccine and have to get send
someone to Astoria (another 1/2 hour or so away) to get some more. So it
looks like a cab now. Maybe they'll take a check. The kids are now
hungry, as it's past dinner time, and we are going to be waiting awhile, so
I start to ask if there is a store or restaurant nearby, when I remember
that I wrote out my last check at the grocery store the day before and
forgot to put a new book of checks in my wallet! OMG...I can't feed them
AND I can't pay even a portion of the cost to go to the ER and get a vaccine
AND I can't get a cab home! Luckily the staff at this hospital are the
nicest bunch of people you ever want to meet. They tell me no problem, we
can work out arrangements after you get the bill, and we have someone here
who can bring you all home. So poor Annie gets her first shot ever,
shocking me with her bravery, and we finally head for home. On the way
home, I ask our driver, a nurse, if I can break an adult tylenol in half for
Annie, because I can't get to a store for any children's tylenol, and Annie
is really starting to feel bad with the very sore knee and now a shot in the
arm. Nurse says I shouldn't and stops at her sister's house to get some
tylenol for me. It's 9:30 at night and I'm so embarrased, but relieved.
Once we get home, I make some macaroni and cheese at Annie's request and we
all sit on the floor and watch The Comfy Couch--another Annie request. And
Sarah (10) and Stella are being so sweet to Annie, and so helpful with Evan
(just turned 1), while I take care of Annie's knee and get her ready for
bed. How'd I get so lucky. They're all so precious.

I told this story not because it was cathartic (although it was!), but
because I felt so many feelings of inadequacy yesterday during all of this.
Still, I didn't lose it. Not once. I breathed. I was thankful for the
kindess of strangers. I played games with the kids. I was mindful and
loving toward my children and we all benefitted. Now I've done this before
when something big required me to have it together (I tend to sweat small
stuff more than big stuff), but this time I was fully aware that I was
making a difference in how we would all feel at the end of the day. I
wanted my children to feel as secure as I could make them feel under the
circumstances. I acted like an adult, despite the childish feelings of
inadequacy and guilt that normally make me behave like a 2 year old. And
at the end of the day, my children and I felt so happy and safe and loved.
It was delicious.

It is more clear to me than ever that if I just apply that kind of
mindfulness and love to the small stuff that makes up more of our daily
life, then we will be doing beautifully! Who cares about a messy house or
no butter for cookies, when you have such precious gifts who love you
despite your shortcomings and just want you to be with them while they
discover the world?

~Andrea

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In a message dated 6/6/04 3:27:10 AM, aburlingame@... writes:

<< I told this story not because it was cathartic (although it was!), but

because I felt so many feelings of inadequacy yesterday during all of this.

Still, I didn't lose it. Not once. I breathed. I was thankful for the

kindess of strangers. I played games with the kids. I was mindful and

loving toward my children and we all benefitted. >>

I'm impressed. I'd've been really, truly frustrated and might not have
handled it nearly so gracefully as you did!

That was HOURS of stress, and you rode it!? Thanks for telling us about it.
It's an inspiration.

I hope Annie's fine. Sometimes the place where a tenanus shot goes hurts
more than the nail puncture, I think.

Sandra

Andrea Burlingame

Sandra said:

"That was HOURS of stress, and you rode it!? Thanks for telling us about
it.
It's an inspiration."

I did ride it out, and I 'm glad because it needed to be done for sure. It
would not have been helpful at all to get bound up in tears or to snap at
them or mutter to myself when they started getting hungry and impatient.
And I think that they bore it all so much better than if I had been more
caught up in the stress than in the moment with them. It was great to
really be with them, so that we, for instance, noticed and wondered about
all the medical equipment, and I explained what some were and we guessed
about others. Some of their guesses were really funny. The heart rate
monitor screen was "a tv for little kids to watch a dvd, in case they're
scared...or just bored," said Stella. They were all delighted when the
doctor took Annie's heart rate and they could "see" it pumping on the
screen--a little red heart flashing off and on. Annie, who was afraid of
him, started grinning ear to ear. They had lots of questions too about the
hospital environment and people, having never been to one before (my last
two were born at home, even.) Their questions were so interesting, because
if you listened you got a real sense of what's important to them.

But what I really want to take away from this is the truth that this
mindfulness and calming breath can help me with life's daily little
aggravations and dissappointments. I hope to get alot better at that, so
that more of our time together can be so

"I hope Annie's fine. Sometimes the place where a tenanus shot goes hurts
more than the nail puncture, I think."

She's fine. The knee got really stiff and sore so that she had some trouble
walking on it, but it is better. So far no complaints about the shot!
Thanks for asking.

~Andrea

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In a message dated 6/6/2004 12:59:24 PM Eastern Standard Time,
aburlingame@... writes:
>>>It was great to
really be with them, so that we, for instance, noticed and wondered about
all the medical equipment, and I explained what some were and we guessed
about others. Some of their guesses were really funny. The heart rate
monitor screen was "a tv for little kids to watch a dvd, in case they're
scared...or just bored," said Stella. They were all delighted when the
doctor took Annie's heart rate and they could "see" it pumping on the
screen--a little red heart flashing off and on. Annie, who was afraid of
him, started grinning ear to ear. They had lots of questions too about the
hospital environment and people, having never been to one before (my last
two were born at home, even.) Their questions were so interesting, because
if you listened you got a real sense of what's important to them.<<<
********************************
So you held it together AND made an "unschooling" day of it at the same
time...LoL...you rock!

I've been where you are, ready to just lose it, and I myself am getting so
much better at breathing, thinking, calming...letting things go...Just being
where I am at that moment and not thinking of the 10 things I wanted to
accomplish that aren't getting done.

This may sound morbid, but what has helped me, is to think about dying. Will
I care whether I had a pretty, perfect garden when I'm on my death bed? Will
I care whether I got my point across during an argument, or whether I got
that degree or logged in enough hours volunteering?? I want to be remembered as
someone that cared, someone that was thoughtful and kind. I want my kids to
think of me as someone who built them up, lifted them up, not someone who
reminded them of their faults, or how they were falling short of MY expectations.

I'm really happy for you!

Nancy B.


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Ann and Eric Yates

This is something that is in my mind too.
My Dad died 10 years ago. My oldest was only 2 months old at the time.

This event in my life changed me....
That weekend we knew my Dad was going to die. I have always thought, what if I was lying there? What would be important to me? A clean house? Clean laundry?
What would really be important???
Being with the people I love. Telling people in my life what they have meant and what they do mean to me.
I guess my priorities were put in order.
This doesn't mean I don't slip into those silly thoughts, but it has sure helped me live in the moment as much as I can.

Ann

This may sound morbid, but what has helped me, is to think about dying. Will
I care whether I had a pretty, perfect garden when I'm on my death bed? Will
I care whether I got my point across during an argument, or whether I got
that degree or logged in enough hours volunteering?? I want to be remembered as
someone that cared, someone that was thoughtful and kind. I want my kids to
think of me as someone who built them up, lifted them up, not someone who
reminded them of their faults, or how they were falling short of MY expectations.

[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Andrea Burlingame

Nancy B. said:

"This may sound morbid, but what has helped me, is to think about dying.
Will
I care whether I had a pretty, perfect garden when I'm on my death bed?
Will
I care whether I got my point across during an argument, or whether I got
that degree or logged in enough hours volunteering?? I want to be
remembered as
someone that cared, someone that was thoughtful and kind. I want my kids to
think of me as someone who built them up, lifted them up, not someone who
reminded them of their faults, or how they were falling short of MY
expectations"

Others have mentioned this as well, and it makes since, even if it is
morbid! :) I'll have to give it a try.

Another suggestion that I have tried, with good success, is to pretend I do
have a witness--a friend who would be hurt to see me have a temper tantrum
in front of my children. Very effective trick, I have to say! Also, it has
been easier since I asked my kids to remind me to breathe when I seem like
I'm losing my temper. They haven't had to remind me yet, and I think it's
because I know THEY are watching, and also because on second thought, I'm
not sure I want them to feel so responsible for me.

Anyway, thanks for the encouragement! And good luck to you too.

~Andrea

Robyn Coburn

<<Another suggestion that I have tried, with good success, is to pretend I
do have a witness--a friend who would be hurt to see me have a temper
tantrum in front of my children. Very effective trick, I have to say!>>

I like to imagine Sandra or Ren or Kelly or Pam, or some of the other people
I met at the conference last year - not only as a witness which really
helps, but also thinking "what might they do/say at his moment?" - (most
likely "breathe"). Also "what if I were going to report this story to the
list?" It helps me to change my thinking and notice when my emotional
reactions are still knee-jerk or leftover childhood baggage stuff coming
out.

Robyn L. Coburn


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In a message dated 6/7/2004 3:44:14 PM Eastern Daylight Time,
dezigna@... writes:

I like to imagine Sandra or Ren or Kelly or Pam, or some of the other people
I met at the conference last year - not only as a witness which really
helps, but also thinking "what might they do/say at his moment?" - (most
likely "breathe"). Also "what if I were going to report this story to the
list?" It helps me to change my thinking and notice when my emotional
reactions are still knee-jerk or leftover childhood baggage stuff coming
out.<<<<<
Thanks, Robin, for including me in that list! <g>
A trick I used when grooming dogs was to imagine that I was on "Candid
Camera"----that there was some camera hidden somewhere.
It's easy to lose your temper when you've been snarled and snapped at
repeatedly; it's August (in SC!), and the temperature's rising to over 100 degrees;
you're 20 minutes behind; and that little MONSTER won't let you cut that
last damned nail!
Step back. Breathe deeply. And---------SMILE, you're on Candid Camera!
It made it easier to smile and to quietly and gently finish the job.
I'd hate for my imaginary camera to catch me totally freaking out! Or worse,
hitting that dog, which can't fight back much---and is totally subject to my
whims and moods. He's not even able to go inside and tell his owner that I've
been a bitch. Is that the way I'd like someone to treat MY dog? Plus----what
if the owner *really* had a camera positioned right outside her kitchen
window?????? <g>
Candid Camera. On me at all times.
I may be *thinking* all sorts of evil thoughts----but you won't "catch" me
doing any of them! <BWG>
~Kelly





[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

mamaaj2000

--- In [email protected], "Andrea Burlingame"
<aburlingame@c...> wrote:
> Another suggestion that I have tried, with good success, is to
pretend I do
> have a witness--a friend who would be hurt to see me have a temper
tantrum
> in front of my children.

I've done this with some sucess, but have to make sure it doesn't
lead to feeling guilty for what I have already done--in front of my
imaginary witness. Guilt doesn't help me do better.

I've also imagined that it was someone else's child and so of course
I couldn't raise my voice no matter what they did. Yes, it sucks that
I'd treat other kids better than I'd treat my own, but as a temporary
glue to keep my lips shut, it's worked.

--aj

[email protected]

In a message dated 6/7/04 1:44:36 PM, dezigna@... writes:

<< Also "what if I were going to report this story to the
list?" It helps me to change my thinking and notice when my emotional
reactions are still knee-jerk or leftover childhood baggage stuff coming
out. >>

Me too.
I tell myself, "OH, and you give advice, you hypocritical thing. BREATHE!"
and then I breathe and apologize.

Let's see...
Sunday my neighbor called and was mean to me on the phone and hung up on me,
because one of Marty's friends had parked in front of her house (our yards are
side by side in a cul-de-sac) and I said I couldn't ask him to move it
because they were all up at the park playing ball. She said "This has been going
on for five years," and hung up.

It has not been five years, and that particular kid JUST got a car a couple
of months before and has never parked there and never will again, and she calls
me "Sandy" instead of knowing my name and Oooh I was furious.

And as a result, when Marty was revealing a bit of the Harry Potter movie to
several kids who hadn't seen it, I said "Shut UP, Marty."

And then I breathed. And then I said "I wouldn't have said that if I had not
SO many times gotten on other people for telling you things you didn't want
to hear, because you HATE hearing things from movies."

And then I found a cigarette butt in the front yard, and...

Well, with eight extra teens and a couple I don't know well, I figured the
safest place for me (and for them) was to be in a room by myself watching The
Last Samurai.

So I "time-outed" myself.

(Darn. And I did end up telling the list anyway.)

Sandra