Jennifer Lambert

A Sacred Balance

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Standing Alone

This blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure.
Please see my suggested resources.

November 6, 2023 By Jennifer Lambert 9 Comments

I am lost in an individualist society.

I have no support system.

I have no family.

I have no friends.

I don’t even have acquaintances.

I attended public school and lived in the same house from birth until I was 16 years old, surrounded by peers and family – aunts and cousins. My classmates all lived within a certain small radius and many attended each other’s birthday parties. I played outside with a whole gang of multi-aged kids after school and on summer breaks.

Everyone I knew existed along the same plane, a similar demographic. There weren’t so many comparisons since there was no Internet, except maybe on Christmas and birthdays, when some kids got the big presents or name brand things…and others did not. But we didn’t really stress that much over it, and I remember more generosity and compassion then than there is now.

Perhaps it was just a bubble that burst when I grew older.

I grew and gradually felt more distance between myself and my peers. It’s like they had a linear trajectory and mine has been an absolute tangle.

And it’s like people slept through their young adult years, but never really woke up. They coast along, oblivious to anything that does not directly affect them. Why would they want to think about it? They’re not awake to anything except their daily grind. They’re so individual. They don’t notice others.

And so little does directly affect rich healthy white people.

There is no therapying away the troubles our USAian society has created and perpetuates. It’s systemic and I see little to no change in our future. We could have tackled racism and sexism and fought the patriarchy. We had the lovely opportunity to make vast revolutionary improvements during COVID and we failed, y’all.

I am constantly angry, upset, saddened by the news around the world – and by everyone being oblivious to it all. And all the information is always at our fingertips, so we are just bombarded with all the news, all the time. It was different and I know I was sheltered as a child. But I still felt all the feelings so big all the time, even then. It’s overwhelming.

I have four kids, ages 13-23. I am a horrible role model for them developing friendships. But I do know how healthy relationships should work.

When my kids were little, it was a bit easier. We could go to parks or homeschool events and kids would just congregate together and play and it was all very low-key. We didn’t have to plan much. There were no real playdates. I would listen to the moms’ conversations, but I never really had much to contribute. I would observe and learn. Almost always, I would say or do the wrong thing. I never felt accepted or included. Those moms didn’t really want to hear anything I had to say. They didn’t want to think or feel. Their conversations were always shallow – about entertainment or mothering issues or marriage troubles. It was always negative and never intellectual in any way.

It didn’t help that we moved frequently with the military. My kids feel hollow and struggle now that we are “settled” and have lived here for six years. They still don’t know how to make friends that feel permanent. I worry they will always feel transient.

I’ve been accused of being excessively angry and I have lost jobs over being too blunt. I don’t see the point of sugarcoating anything. Yet, I deliberate constantly over my word choice and tone. It seems that I never can say the right thing in the right way.

We do feel jealousy about people who have friends and family and have lived in their place essentially their whole lives.

I can only do so much within my own household. Everyone needs support.

Where do we get these relationships? Where is our village? Where are our friends?

from Facebook

How do I develop trust? How do I find time to nurture a friendship? It seems daunting.

And how do I learn to love others when I feel so unlovable?

My parents told me that no one would ever love me like they do.

While this seems like a wonderful, loving, caring sentiment, it is actually very toxic.

What my parents taught me while I was growing up, sometimes verbally out loud, other times subliminally by their actions, moods, reactions, and body language – is that I am worthless.

They made me believe that I couldn’t do anything right, that only my performance mattered, but it was never good enough. They complained about my appearance. They complained about my school grades. They complained I would isolate and read books. They complained if I wanted to go out. They complain if I asked for something for a holiday – even if they ask me what I want; that was not in their script.

My parents talked ill of all my extended family members. No one was a good person – my grandmothers, deceased grandfathers, my aunts, uncles, cousins. They all have fundamental problems. My parents act like they were superior in every way. As an only child, I had no one to compare my life since I was all alone. It’s been shocking to hear truths from my cousins about my parents now that I am an adult.

I was never taught how to have a relationship outside of my parents.

“There is a magnet in your heart that will attract true friends. That magnet is unselfishness, thinking of others first; when you learn to live for others, they will live for you.”

― Paramahansa Yogananda

I learned that any friendship should be lightweight because it took me away from my parents which was so selfish. When I was a teen, any boyfriend was a potential predator and I was just wasting my time anyway. It was selfish of me wanting to go out instead of staying in the house with my parents. They encouraged me to get a part-time job, but complained about my schedule. They complained when I cooked meals, but they wanted only to eat microwave dinners that I loathe.

After my suicide attempt, they really doubled down on the idea that of course no one could really love me, that they were only using me.

They taught me that they held my puppet strings and would never, ever cut those strings to allow me to be independent.

So, why is it a surprise that I learned how to be self-reliant?

I stand alone. I always have.

We are amused by and we idolize books and films and shows that portray INTJ or neurodivergent women, but no onet really wants to navigate relationships with them in real life. Wednesday Addams and Elizabeth Zott in Lessons in Chemistry are portrayed rather positively, but most are villains or bad girls.

I absolutely love and get very emotional about The Crab Scene from the Joy Luck Club. We are too often unseen and misunderstood by even the other women in our lives.

There are lessons and warnings in the old fairy tales. The “witch” seeks to capture and steal from her daughter, the “princess” her youth and beauty instead of embracing their own transition, wisdom, age, beauty in a different, less conventional or socially acceptable way.

Is a woman’s worth only in her youth, beauty, and men’s desire?

Is it any wonder that women are encouraged to pretend they’re still young and fuckable with hormone therapy, hysterectomies, mood enhancing drugs, Botox, expensive skin creams, shapewear, and all the physically, mentally, psychologically altering items we are marketed?

The Internet has brought us together in ways we couldn’t be together geographically. But, it also isolates many in the various accomodations the Internet offers. We don’t have to leave our homes to interact with others at all if we choose not to do so. There’s certainly a loss to barter for the convenience.

In my local city Facebook Moms Group, I usually lurk and read…and judge. So, so many moms post anonymously and I get that. They know they will be judged less harshly if they maintain their anonymity. The thing is that so many moms do not have any support networks and we do all judge each other way too much.

“How do you manage a relationship with in laws who don’t like you when there is children involved?”

There are 62 comments and counting. Many commenters have zero contact with family members and others have really tricky complicated relationships.

Another women’s Facebook group I’m in had a commenter mention that she was experiencing sorrow and grief making the transition to older motherhood. She realizes she will never have another baby and she is embarrassed to feel jealousy over her eldest daughter’s pregnancy. She had nowhere else to express herself other than a exercise/weight loss group! Thankfully, the mods didn’t remove the post and I am pleased by all the comments supporting and comforting and grieving with her.

Y’all, OMG we need to discuss these life experiences and transitions that women face without shame and with more love and compassion and comradery.

Our society doesn’t condone appreciating or honoring our elders. I see articles, art, movies and shows, and memes perpetuating and encouraging the younger generations to ridicule and humiliate the older generations. Sure, many refuse to grow or adapt or learn and stick to old ways that are outdated or harmful, but many of us long to bridge the gaps and help everyone rise up together.

So, so many of us didn’t get to witness our mothers, aunties, grandmothers experience feelings of loss or transition or growth or aging in any way, and certainly not in healthy ways.

Being a mother is very lonely.

While I often stand alone for my values and beliefs, it’s sad to always stand alone.

It is an honor to grow and age and transition into an elder lady with wisdom for the younger women.

Resources:

  • Motherwhelmed by Beth Berry
  • Jesus, the Gentle Parent by LR Knost
  • Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay Gibson
  • Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child by John Gottman
  • The Mother Dance: How Children Change Your Life by Harriet Lerner

You might also like:

  • Healing Mother
  • Standing Alone
  • Balancing Blogging and Mothering
  • Navigating Motherhood During Deployment
  • A Mother’s Résumé
  • Childcare Crisis

Linking up at blogs here.

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Filed Under: Family Tagged With: beauty, motherhood, women

Gifting with Gratitude

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Please see my suggested resources.

January 23, 2023 By Jennifer Lambert 4 Comments

Way back when (in the early 2000s,) I loved Freecycle. It was fun and I felt so good not adding to waste. Then, we moved to Germany and I lost touch with it. Like Craig’s List, Freecycle forum doesn’t seem as popular anymore.

The “Buy Nothing Project” began in 2013 and local groups have gained popularity recently around the globe. People struggling financially or for lack of community have flocked to assist others in a gift economy. Not everything has to be a transactional relationship.

If we all bought less and shared more, we would save money and reduce the amount of waste going to landfills or washing up on our shores. Reduce, Reuse, Recycle…and Refuse.

Liesl Clark, Buy Nothing Project

Since the original creators of the Buy Nothing movement recently have created an app with lots of paywalls and tricks to find a local group, my geographic group has split from them and renamed our Facebook group. Because the truth is, most of us are on Facebook and it’s just easier for us to comment, tag, and send messages through that program than to fight with an app that is less than user-friendly. And of course they wrote a book and have a podcast. But I get it. Everything grows and sometimes gets out of hand, too big for two people to maintain. The app is surely progress, but we have chosen to be unaffiliated.

The founders created some rules:

  1. No buying or selling.
  2. No trading or bartering.
  3. No strings attached.
  4. No hate speech.
  5. Nothing illegal. So no firearms, drugs, prescription medications, or expired goods, including car seats or cribs not up to current standards.
  6. No judgment. Every gift has equal value. Every giver and asker have equal value.
  7. No penalties. If you loan something, you have to be OK with the possibility that it might get damaged.
  8. No double-dipping. You can only join one group. To be admitted, you have to live in that community.

I love to see it. It’s beautiful. It’s not even a barter system. It’s just donating, lending, and sharing with neighbors. Gratitude in action.

I love how different the Buy Nothing concept is than Buy/Sell/Trade pages and groups.

I feel fortunate to be able to donate generously than having to sell items to make ends meet. Because I have certainly been there and it was stressful.

I respect anyone who needs to sell items, but we also can specify if items we are gifting can be resold or not. I do get irritated by resellers who jack up prices on secondhand items as their job or hobby. I don’t care much for Marketplace and all the scammers who prey on people selling and seeking.

Subgroups are awesome too! We also have a Community Chat group for our greater area that encompasses a much larger geographic area. This ensures we can reach a larger audience if we have attempted a gift or ask with no response or if we have a question or concern for the larger community. Sometimes, members post challenges to help us declutter or do something fun for each other. It’s endearing to see how the community comes together to help people whose homes are devastated by fire or offering to outfit a new mother whose partner suddenly left her. It’s so lovely to see people helping others.

What can you expect to find in a gift economy group?

Everything.

I have seen incredible items gifted and asked for. I am constantly amazed and surprised by what people so generously gift. And I never thought to ask for things that I know I might use once and never look at again.

BOOKS!

Home décor.

Pantry cleanouts.

Closet cleanouts.

Bathroom cleanouts.

Baking pans to borrow for a single occasion.

Crafting supplies.

Kids hand-me-downs. These are so expensive and I love to see them used and reused and loved!

SHOES!

Vitamins and supplements tried and disliked.

Foods opened and used for a single recipe. It’s lovely to offer to someone instead of throwing out or letting it sit in the fridge or pantry for months until it is indeed thrown away.

Sports paraphernalia.

Lawn equipment to borrow or keep.

FURNITURE!

Winter gear to borrow or keep.

Barn cleanouts.

Regifting gifts received that didn’t work or were received from holidays.

Incorrect orders of really nice brand new items that are a hassle to return.

Broken electronics or lawn equipment for fixing up or taking apart and learning about. This was so neat to see!

Pet items.

Homemade items.

Leftover alcohol from a party or a flavor they didn’t like. For safety and legal reasons, these are always handed to a person who shows ID.

Coupons and gift cards!

Last minute supplies for a school project.

Gardening items – even live plants! I have scored a ton of houseplants and hostas and lilies this way.

Our group does Round Robins for puzzles, books, purses, seeds, and more!

Gifting with Gratitude

Gifting

Take a clear photo of an item and post it.

Facebook algorithms cannot handle multiple photos in a post, so additional photos can be placed as comments to the original post.

Honest descriptions are important. I try to post the true description and how old an item is. I post that we have cats in case someone has an allergy. Posting sizes for clothing or an item beside a common thing like a water bottle is nice.

Some people make it fun and ask for a favorite recipe or funny story in the comments or what is the person going to use the item for?

Once choosing a recipient, only then may the chosen person private message about it. If the person doesn’t respond within 24 hours, then choosing another recipient is reasonable.

I’ve seen gifts of time or people offering to pickup items for neighbors, friends, and family members. I love the people who offer to take things off your hands if you want to gift it but don’t have time or energy to sort and post it.

It really is a community.

Receiving

If I see an item I want up for a gift, I comment that I would like the item for me, or one of my kids, or my husband, sometimes why, and when I might be able to pick up the item.

There is no guarantee that commenting first or being able to pickup anytime will get me the item.

Some very popular and generous gifts are raffled off randomly either with a spinner app or names/numbers in a hat.

We do tend to see the same names come up a lot. We’re a fairly small group and I love to recognize people whom I may not really know in real life. Because we homeschool, my kids don’t participate in anything and we stay home a lot.

Certain people seem to get a reputation as being the plant lover or dog rehabber or foster parent. Some people are pickers and gather items off the roadside to regift so as to keep things out of the landfill.

Once chosen for an item, only then may a recipient private message about it, and in a timely manner, or it might go to another recipient.

Asking

I love how people ask for help or for an item to try or borrow, or something specific they realize they want or need. I’m not comfortable with doing that, but I love that others are! It truly shows how we are growing in community and helping each other when we can feel safe to ask and receive help.

Tip Tuesdays

Each week, one of the moderators of our group posts a tip to help us be kind or informed, based on the original rules or issues that have arisen in our group or community.

Wishful Wednesdays

Each week, one of the moderators of our group posts an image for a thread of asks that we can look over and see if we can meet anyone’s requests. It’s lovely to see these needs being met every week!

Thankful Thursdays

Each week, one of the moderators of our group posts an image for a thread where we can express gratitude over a specific gift or situation that has helped us in any way. It’s just gorgeous to see all the blessings!

Helpful

Archiving chats: in Facebook Messenger, instead of deleting chats after gifting or receiving, ARCHIVING is a great way to maintain the communication without clogging up my Messenger app. I can go back into the chat window history for addresses and gifts/receipts. Super helpful for when I find the charging cord that went with the thing or the 3rd book in the series I gifted last week.

Including the item in a message is helpful. Sometimes I gift or ask for several items in a week, so it helps for everyone to keep things straight. Something simple, like “Thanks for the blue shirt, I can come anytime tomorrow.”

Communication is great! Things happen. Let people know if you are running late or have some conflict with pickup. Letting people know you got the item is helpful too.

We are still in a pandemic, and lots of people are trying very hard to stay well, so please be kind and let people know if you or someone in your household is sick or has been exposed to someone is sick.

When gifting items, I usually leave them in grocery bags on my front porch. If there’s wind or precipitation, I place them inside a Rubbermaid bin. I attach sticky notes or cards to the bags with the recipient’s name. For larger items, it’s easier to set up a time window or even interact and help them load it into their car.

I love our local gift economy group.

I have enjoyed being generous in donating some of our items we no longer need, want, or use – clothes, books, décor, plant starts, craft supplies, our old TV and surround sound system, a water dispenser when we got a whole house system.

I have been gifted some amazing things! Homemade afghan and pot holders, vintage décor, holiday items, Indiana glass bowl, clothes, plants, furniture. I even scored a treadmill!

It’s such a great way to keep things out of landfills and into the hands of members of our community who really want or need it.

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Best Books of 2022

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January 2, 2023 By Jennifer Lambert 6 Comments

I read a lot…like a lot a lot.

We do read alouds for our homeschool every morning and some evenings.

I always have several books on my Kindle app or nightstand or side table, throughout the house, really.

I love exploring new concepts in history or self-help and reading fiction with my kids.

I try to intersperse fun and quick fiction reads. There are no fluffy, bad, or wrong books. There are just preferences.

I read lots of books. It tends to go in waves depending on what’s going on in my life, how busy we are, my moods and availability of library eBooks. I think I notice themes each year that help me grow and become a better person, wife, mom.

I don’t like quitting, but if I really loathe the book, the characters, and story, then I can’t find any reason to finish. Some books I read in a single evening. Others take a few days or even weeks.

I love, love, love historical fiction. My faves are Edward Rutherfurd, Ken Follett, Philippa Gregory. I’m also obsessed with cult memoirs, not sure what that says about me.

My Favorite Books I Read in 2022

The Myth of Normal: Trauma, Illness, and Healing in a Toxic Culture by Gabor Maté

A culmination of everything we need to address and change in our society.

In this revolutionary book, renowned physician Gabor Maté eloquently dissects how in Western countries that pride themselves on their healthcare systems, chronic illness and general ill health are on the rise. Nearly 70 percent of Americans are on at least one prescription drug; more than half take two. In Canada, every fifth person has high blood pressure. In Europe, hypertension is diagnosed in more than 30 percent of the population. And everywhere, adolescent mental illness is on the rise. So what is really “normal” when it comes to health?

Over four decades of clinical experience, Maté has come to recognize the prevailing understanding of “normal” as false, neglecting the roles that trauma and stress, and the pressures of modern-day living, exert on our bodies and our minds at the expense of good health. For all our expertise and technological sophistication, Western medicine often fails to treat the whole person, ignoring how today’s culture stresses the body, burdens the immune system, and undermines emotional balance. Now Maté brings his perspective to the great untangling of common myths about what makes us sick, connects the dots between the maladies of individuals and the declining soundness of society—and offers a compassionate guide for health and healing. Cowritten with his son Daniel, The Myth Of Normal is Maté’s most ambitious and urgent book yet.

Vita Nostra: A Novel by Marina & Sergey Dyachenko

This book is so unique and I cannot stop thinking about it. I preordered the sequel and read their other novel translated into English.

Our life is brief . . .

Sasha Samokhina has been accepted to the Institute of Special Technologies.

Or, more precisely, she’s been chosen.

Situated in a tiny village, she finds the students are bizarre, and the curriculum even more so. The books are impossible to read, the lessons obscure to the point of maddening, and the work refuses memorization. Using terror and coercion to keep the students in line, the school does not punish them for their transgressions and failures; instead, it is their families that pay a terrible price. Yet despite her fear, Sasha undergoes changes that defy the dictates of matter and time; experiences which are nothing she has ever dreamed of . . . and suddenly all she could ever want.

The School for Good Mothers: A Novel by Jessamine Chan

This book is not pleasant. It sure made me think and fear and wonder. What could our society turn out to be like if we stop trusting mothers, anyone? Do we really need a carceral state at all?

Frida Liu is struggling. She doesn’t have a career worthy of her Chinese immigrant parents’ sacrifices. She can’t persuade her husband, Gust, to give up his wellness-obsessed younger mistress. Only with Harriet, their cherubic daughter, does Frida finally attain the perfection expected of her. Harriet may be all she has, but she is just enough.

Until Frida has a very bad day.

The state has its eye on mothers like Frida. The ones who check their phones, letting their children get injured on the playground; who let their children walk home alone. Because of one moment of poor judgement, a host of government officials will now determine if Frida is a candidate for a Big Brother-like institution that measures the success or failure of a mother’s devotion.

Faced with the possibility of losing Harriet, Frida must prove that a bad mother can be redeemed. That she can learn to be good.

Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May

A lovely reminder to rest. It’s not a reward; we need to practice more rest. A snuggly reminder any time of year.

Sometimes you slip through the cracks: unforeseen circumstances like an abrupt illness, the death of a loved one, a break up, or a job loss can derail a life. These periods of dislocation can be lonely and unexpected. For May, her husband fell ill, her son stopped attending school, and her own medical issues led her to leave a demanding job. Wintering explores how she not only endured this painful time, but embraced the singular opportunities it offered.

Bittersweet: How Sorrow and Longing Make Us Whole by Susan Cain

A great example of why positivity is toxic. Just let me be melancholy and feels all the feels. If we are content, we are not changing.

Bittersweetness is a tendency to states of long­ing, poignancy, and sorrow; an acute aware­ness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy at the beauty of the world. It recognizes that light and dark, birth and death—bitter and sweet—are forever paired. 
 
If you’ve ever wondered why you like sad music . . . 
If you find comfort or inspiration in a rainy day . . . 
If you react intensely to music, art, nature, and beauty . . .
 
Then you probably identify with the bitter­sweet state of mind.

The Maid: A Novel by Nita Prose 

I’m not normally a fan of mysteries. This one surprised me and I can’t wait to see the film. I was shocked by the ending since I really didn’t expect that.

Molly Gray is not like everyone else. She struggles with social skills and misreads the intentions of others. Her gran used to interpret the world for her, codifying it into simple rules that Molly could live by.

Since Gran died a few months ago, twenty-five-year-old Molly has been navigating life’s complexities all by herself. No matter—she throws herself with gusto into her work as a hotel maid. Her unique character, along with her obsessive love of cleaning and proper etiquette, make her an ideal fit for the job. She delights in donning her crisp uniform each morning, stocking her cart with miniature soaps and bottles, and returning guest rooms at the Regency Grand Hotel to a state of perfection.

But Molly’s orderly life is upended the day she enters the suite of the infamous and wealthy Charles Black, only to find it in a state of disarray and Mr. Black himself dead in his bed. Before she knows what’s happening, Molly’s unusual demeanor has the police targeting her as their lead suspect. She quickly finds herself caught in a web of deception, one she has no idea how to untangle. Fortunately for Molly, friends she never knew she had unite with her in a search for clues to what really happened to Mr. Black—but will they be able to find the real killer before it’s too late?

The Sparrow: A Novel by Mary Doria Russell 

I also read the sequel. It made me think about what makes us human. It made me question history, capitalism, caste and class. So much philosophy and religion examined.

A visionary work that combines speculative fiction with deep philosophical inquiry, The Sparrow tells the story of a charismatic Jesuit priest and linguist, Emilio Sandoz, who leads a scientific mission entrusted with a profound task: to make first contact with intelligent extraterrestrial life. The mission begins in faith, hope, and beauty, but a series of small misunderstandings brings it to a catastrophic end.

You might also like:

  • My Favorite Books 2021
  • My Favorite Books 2020
  • My Favorite Books 2019
  • My Favorite Books 2018
  • My Favorite Life Changing Books
  • Apocalyptic Media to Binge
  • 10 Classics to Read When the World Seems Too Bleak
  • Top 10 Books for Homeschoolers
  • Great Books for Writers
  • 5 Best Life Skills Books for Teens

What did you read this year?

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Adult Daughter

This blog may contain affiliate links: disclosure.
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December 12, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 5 Comments

My parents turned 80 last April.

They were married for about thirteen years before they finally had me.

I am an only child.

I really wish I could write a feel-good memoir about how my mom and I have always been great friends. I wish I could say that I was daddy’s girl. But, alas, that is not the case.

I am a disappointment to my parents because I never could meet their expectations in any way.

My kids don’t know their grandparents.

My Timeline as an Adult Daughter

I remember dreaming as a teenager how there must be some magical moment when I had freedom and trust and could do the cool things I saw others doing with their friends, peers, family members.

That magical moment never happened.

I was told to leave home at 18 when my father found a condom in my purse. They didn’t want me living in their home anymore – even though I was a good person, no drugs or problems. My boyfriend was a good man. We were both on a good trajectory in college and planning our lives and futures. My parents gave me the ultimatum that I could live at home or leave my boyfriend. It was such a difficult decision since I had no savings or any way to live on my own while continuing with college. I only worked part time at a drug store. Edward worked part time at Costco while living at home and attending college too. I often wonder if I could have managed and left, and what my life might have turned out like if I had rebelled then.

I eloped when I was almost 21. Then I was disowned for my first marriage. They mailed me a torn-up copy of their will.

Wade Mullen

They were angry when I got pregnant and I didn’t get a nice baby shower, just tiny token gifts from my aunt and cousins and co-workers. My parents came to the hospital to see us, but they got very upset and jealous that my first husband’s parents were there, and my mother-in-law was helping me, so they left in a huff. My mother arrived at my home the next week and I had to make her dinner while exhausted.

They weren’t much help with my first child and constantly complained about her, but they were relieved when I got divorced.

My parents adore adore my current husband.

The best thing I did was leave Georgia so it put some distance between my parents and me. I literally went through withdrawal for several years from all the abusive expectations and I didn’t know how to be alone or how to be an adult or wife or mother.

Very unfortunately, my husband’s parents both passed the first year we were married, so they never even got to meet their son’s kids. His mother did throw me a lovely baby shower and gifted us a lot of stuff that last Christmas.

My parents traveled to Texas for the births of my middle two kids. They stayed in a hotel. They were no help and I was more stressed out knowing I had to entertain them and keep peace. I was very sick after my second child was born and my father was just furious. After a Caesarean section birth of my third child, they wanted to go out to dinner, so I had to drag myself and a newborn with my toddler and young child to a restaurant or have no dinner. My husband was lost during all these games and didn’t know what to say or do.

My mother traveled to Hawaii for the birth of my last child, but my father couldn’t be bothered. She stayed in a hotel on Pearl Harbor naval base. They had both just come out for Christmas the previous year and it was too much for him to sit in an airplane from Georgia to Hawaii again. My mother was unkind to my three kids and I couldn’t really trust her or rely on her to help at all. She accused them of stealing her bracelet! It had fallen off the nightstand. My husband didn’t know any of this. It was very stressful when I should have been enjoying my newborn son.

During my husband’s first deployment in 2011, my parents decided that was a great time to visit me and the kids in Utah. They chose to come in May – not in March for my birthday, not the first week in April for their birthdays or my son’s first birthday, not around my third child’s birthday or on Mother’s Day, but just a random time in mid-May. They refused to stay at my house (even though I offered them my bed) and instead opted for a nearby hotel. They sauntered over midday, about lunchtime and naptime for my son. It disrupted our whole schedule and they kept telling my kids to go away and play outside or in the basement. I was super stressed and confused. My mom made my second child cry about something irrelevant and then lied about it. They didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything except sit on my sofa and they were very upset my TV was in the basement because they didn’t want to walk down a flight of stairs. Then, they got really mad and left early and I later received an actual letter in the mail – hate mail! – outlining everything that’s wrong about me, my children, and my lack of good mothering skills. Also, that I should hit my children to make them never cry and behave perfectly.

We didn’t see my parents again until May 2014.

Dr. Glenn Patrick Doyle

Before we PCSed to Germany, I felt we needed to visit my parents…in case something happened while we were on another continent for three years.

It was a very stressful couple weeks.

My kids were banished to other rooms, constantly told to be quiet. The wildflowers they picked for their only grandmother were thrown away. We didn’t go anywhere except to the veteran’s park in their town.

I was told not to cook anymore since it was too messy, made too many dishes, was more food than they were used to having.

My father promised my son to take him to his barber to get haircuts, but the day arrived and my father took off on his own for the entire day and no one knew where he was. My son was devastated.

My father was also going to take my eldest child on a special trip to Andersonville since we had been studying the Civil War. He told her she didn’t deserve the trip with her bad attitude.

They were apprehensive when we went to Stone Mountain Park and Stately Oaks. They didn’t feel comfortable with us borrowing one of their three SUVs to go to the Atlanta aquarium. But they didn’t want to go anywhere with us.

Then, we visited them again June 2017, upon our return to the States, and it was again miserable.

My parents had promised my eldest their 2010 VW Beetle and money to help pay for college, but they swore they never promised any college money and told us all she didn’t deserve the car. They then handed over the car last minute, but made it clear they didn’t want to and that it shouldn’t go to her.

We left earlier than we had planned.

So, I haven’t even seen my parents since 2018.

They drove up to Ohio from Georgia, to surprise my husband for his promotion in February 2018.

They then drove up again for Christmas 2018 while he was deployed, but vowed they couldn’t travel anymore after that.

It was a little bit easier on my own turf with older kids who have learned to stay away from their grandparents and monitor their moods, which is sad.

I invited my parents a few times – to be told they couldn’t make it. It’s a lot more difficult for us to travel with four busy kids and two cats. My parents are retired, wealthy, no responsibilities. They could go anywhere, anytime…they do own three SUVs!

My father has had at least two tantrums when he gave me the silent treatment the last couple years – no phone calls, no emails, nothing. My mother is almost amused by this instead of disturbed. She feels superior, I guess.

We’re punished by no birthday cards – no gifts, no money, no phone calls. It’s like we’re erased, forgotten. How do I explain this to my kids?

My mom broke her sternum in a random fall and I didn’t find out for days.

My father fell and bruised his rib over the July 4th weekend and I didn’t find out until later that week.

My mom was rushed by ambulance to the hospital due to severe back pain and she had to demand he call us. She has a broken vertebra. It’s been a long time healing and she can’t drive, can barely walk with a walker. How about those three SUVs now?

I called them on Thanksgiving and that wasn’t the most pleasant conversation when I risked asking what their plans are for their future. They got mad that I brought up the forbidden questions and didn’t talk to me for two more weeks. My mother is never great with communication and my father emails me weather and football reports every few days like everything is just fine.

It’s hard being their daughter.

My children don’t have grandparents.

We’re jealous when we see families with grandparents. Most people assume this is the norm, and I’m sure it is – families who live nearby and enjoy each other, rooting for victories and sorrow with mistakes. We don’t have any family. I keep trying. It’s like banging my head into a brick wall.

I long for more. I yearn for my kids to launch into the world and fly back frequently to the nest. I wait with open arms because of the bitter memories I harbor of my own parents. I don’t want my kids to ever feel unwanted or unloved.

It’s a deep pain. It’s hard to swallow, even as an adult, that a parent simply isn’t interested in their child and never has been. Some parents will only approve of their children as long as the children follow the narrative those parents have chosen for them instead or embracing honoring who each child IS as determined by the children themselves!

The Wellness Point

Well Said:

  • Dear Uninvolved Family, I’m Sad You Don’t Care Enough to Know Us
  • I’m Done Trying To Include Uninvolved Family

Resources:

  • Mothers Who Can’t Love: A Healing Guide for Daughters by Susan Forward
  • Difficult Mothers, Adult Daughters: A Guide For Separation, Liberation & Inspiration by Karen C.L. Anderson
  • I Hate You – Don’t Leave Me: Understanding the Borderline Personality by Jerold J. Kreisman
  • Recovering from Narcissistic Mothers: A Daughter’s Guide by Brenda Stephens
  • Will I Ever Be Good Enough?: Healing the Daughters of Narcissistic Mothers by Karyl McBride
  • Becoming the Narcissist’s Nightmare: How to Devalue and Discard the Narcissist While Supplying Yourself by Shahida Araby
  • Recovering from Emotionally Immature Parents: Practical Tools to Establish Boundaries and Reclaim Your Emotional Autonomy by Lindsay C. Gibson
  • Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents: How to Heal from Distant, Rejecting, or Self-Involved Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson
  • When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times by Pema Chodron
  • Parenting Forward: How to Raise Children with Justice, Mercy, and Kindness by Cindy Wang Brandt
  • The Empath’s Survival Guide: Life Strategies for Sensitive People by Judith Orloff
  • The Highly Sensitive Person: How to Thrive When the World Overwhelms You by Elaine N. Aron
  • The Highly Sensitive Child: Helping Our Children Thrive When The World Overwhelms Them by Elaine N. Aron
  • The Dance of Anger: A Woman’s Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships by Harriet Lerner
  • The Dance of Connection: How to Talk to Someone When You’re Mad, Hurt, Scared, Frustrated, Insulted, Betrayed, or Desperate by Harriet Lerner

You might also like:

  • Grieving Family Who Are Still Alive
  • Raised Better
  • I am not insignificant
  • Ruined
  • Parenting Young Adults
  • My Father is a Racist
  • What Respectful Parenting Looks Like
  • Breaking the Cycle
  • Disciplining without Control

Linking up: Eclectic Red Barn, Pam’s Party, Pieced Pastimes, Silverado, Grammy’s Grid, Pinch of Joy, Random Musings, April Harris, Create with Joy, Suburbia, Mostly Blogging, Ridge Haven, Garden, Jenerally Informed, InstaEncouragements, LouLou Girls, Simply Coffee, Fluster Buster, Homestead, Life Abundant, Soaring with Him, Joanne Viola, OMHG, Penny’s Passion, Life Beyond the Kitchen, Artful Mom, Imparting Grace, Slices of Life, Modern Monticello, Answer is Chocolate, Lisa Notes, Being a Wordsmith, Pieced Pastimes, Momfessionals, Memory,

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Overconfidence

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Please see my suggested resources.

December 5, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 4 Comments

What is it about men and overconfidence?

It seems our society encourages men to brag, lie, deceive, exaggerate their abilities.

It’s way beyond just saying, “The fish was THIS BIG.”

It’s not cute. It’s not endearing.

I dated a boy in high school who bragged constantly and I really didn’t know any better then. He claimed he owned a 64 1/2 Mustang. He claimed he did yard work for the Monticello subdivision, and he led people to believe it was the highly affluent neighborhood on the far side of town. He made a lot of claims that I never could actually refute because I didn’t ever really confront him. The car was in storage (apparently it belonged to his uncle) and the subdivision turned out to be just some duplexes.

I’ve met lots of men who feel a need to brag and exaggerate and flat-out lie to appear better than they really are. Many just allow us to believe whatever we assume without any correction, as long as they look good.

Many men want constantly to relive their “glory days,” whenever they feel that was – high school, college, early adulthood. Whenever they felt biggest and baddest, strongest and most in control.

The really sad thing is that people who brag the most just can’t accept who they really are, so they have to portray themselves as somehow more than they really are.

Carry yourself with the confidence of a mediocre straight white man.

Lily Tomlin

When women believe men, they suffer.

As much as I despise about my father and all his faults, this is one area where he doesn’t fall short. I can’t remember him ever misrepresenting himself. He is 80 and still thinks he can do things he could do at age 50, but that’s a little bit different.

My first husband’s father told everyone he was retired. I believed him. Who wouldn’t? But, he didn’t pull a pension from anywhere. He never retired. He just quit working. He claimed when he became a Christian, he just couldn’t manage to work in secular jobs anymore. There has to be more to the story, but that’s all I ever got. I wasn’t allowed to ask questions. His wife worked herself to death and they lived on credit until they filed for bankruptcy.

My second husband used his religion to manipulate me and others. The final straw was when he was fired from his job and deceived me for over three weeks. He just pretended to go to work still. When I saw through his vast façade and tried to leave, he destroyed me in every way he could with outrageous lies. I lost my job. I lost my friends. I lost my church.

My current husband bragged for years about what a great gift giver he is, also how he could build a deck and fence. He is not really a good gift giver, some because I am not a good receiver, and I have purchased and wrapped all gifts for everyone for every holiday for almost two decades, but who brags about that? What is it about men who buy gifts for their wives that they themselves want or are the traditional no-no’s – electronics, foods, housewares? When we bought our house and I called him out on his stories of building decks and fences, he balked and we had to hire someone to replace the fence – who did a rather shabby job anyway. He helped his brothers-in-law build a deck over twenty years ago, but he didn’t singlehandedly design, plan, or implement anything. At least he can actually do basic plumbing and electrical chores.

My kids have known people, adults and children, who feel the need to puff up and brag about who they know, what they do, what they have, what their family and friends have or do. It’s rather distasteful and very disappointing when my kids find out the truth behind the lies.

The funny thing is that men are allowed and encouraged to brag, but women can’t even be honest about our accomplishments without being told to be more humble. Women are supposed to be modest or humblebrag to downplay ourselves and our accomplishments, our victories…especially when in the presence of men and their fragile egos. Women can’t appear to be efficient or capable or not needing a man to guide and protect us. Women are supposed to pretend to be helpless, less than we are, dumber than we are, powerless…so as to not emasculate men.

I was actively taught to exhibit this behavior by my own parents and teachers and adults. I have seen it in my kids and it disgusts me that I have actively tried to teach them to be confident and assertive.

We are living in dangerous times when men continue to grasp power and fight to keep power away from women, children, LGBTQIA+, and other marginalized groups.

Travis Akers

Resources:

  • Mediocre: The Dangerous Legacy of White Male America by Ijeoma Oluo  
  • Bad Feminist: Essays by Roxane Gay
  • Invisible Women: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men by Caroline Criado Perez 
  • Dying of Politeness: A Memoir by Geena Davis
  • We Should All Be Feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie  
  • The Body Is Not an Apology, Second Edition: The Power of Radical Self-Love by Sonya Renee Taylor 
  • The Mother of All Questions by Rebecca Solnit
  • Entitled: How Male Privilege Hurts Women by Kate Manne
  • The Vagina Bible: The Vulva and the Vagina: Separating the Myth from the Medicine by Dr. Jen Gunter
  • The Menopause Manifesto: Own Your Health with Facts and Feminism by Dr. Jen Gunter
  • In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens: Womanist Prose by Alice Walker
  • Sisters in the Wilderness: The Challenge of Womanist God-Talk by Delores S. Williams
  • Too Much: How Victorian Constraints Still Bind Women Today by Rachel Vorona Cote
  • Hysterical: Why We Need to Talk About Women, Hormones, and Mental Health by Eleanor Morgan
  • Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall
  • Women, Race & Class by Angela Y. Davis
  • Vox by Christina Dalcher
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Ruined

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November 28, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 7 Comments

It’s been about eight years.

And I know I should probably get over it.

But it’s symbolic of my entire relationship with my mother.

It doesn’t matter that I bought this shirt at a thrift store. It was my favorite shirt. I felt good when I wore it.

We visited my parents near Atlanta, in May 2014, before we PCSed from Utah to Germany. My parents are getting old and I didn’t know what could transpire during our three years on another continent. We hadn’t seen my family since 2011.

It was a stressful time for the kids and me, staying with my parents, whom my kids don’t even really know. This was just one incident in a series of problems.

During the ten days we stayed with my parents, I had to do laundry since we had been living out of suitcases for many weeks between our TLF stay in Utah, the road trip from Utah to Georgia, and anticipating a month in TLF once we arrived in Germany.

My mother has a weird obsession with bleach.

I bought and used organic laundry detergent that our family is used to using and I washed and dried our clothes. I hung up my pink ruffled shirt on the drying rack in the little laundry room off the kitchen.

My mother washed her towels and laundry, I guess, like she normally does, and somehow, oh my ever-loving god, the bleach splashed across three feet from the washing machine onto one of the ruffles on my pink shirt that was hanging to dry. I wish I had a picture of the bleached shirt. It was a huge bleached patch. Like, how does that even happen? Most bottles of bleach say they’re non-splash or something. It’s concentrated and easy to pour. Was she slinging the bleach around like the gas station scene from Zoolander?

And then, she wasn’t even really sorry. My shirt was ruined! I couldn’t color-match the bleach stain. I didn’t want to bleach wash the shirt to be something creative and different. I couldn’t find a replacement.

She just shrugged it off, like it was my fault. Like everything in my entire life is my fault. I shouldn’t have hung my shirt there. I should’ve been more careful. Maybe I shouldn’t have done my laundry at all.

Which is her attitude about everything in our entire lives! She refuses to apologize or admit she ever did anything inappropriate or wrong.

She recently told me I was not to blame them anymore and to keep the emails and conversation light or not at all.

There will be people that would rather lose you, than be honest about what they’ve done to you. Let them go.

Nate Postlethwait

I found this shirt on Poshmark, which I don’t think existed back then, and we were moving to Germany anyway, so… I know eBay has been around a long time, but I couldn’t find this shirt anywhere, anytime I looked. I couldn’t even really find the proper key words to search…until last month.

It was just a little something that grated in the back of my mind and broke my heart over and over. I know it’s just a shirt, but it hurt that my mother just didn’t care about ruining it. Just like she doesn’t care about me or my kids.

I now have my replacement shirt. I feel a little bit triumphant. I know my mother doesn’t even remember this episode, like she doesn’t remember anything very important that ever happened to me, good or bad.

I wish it were as easy to repair our relationship as it was to get a new shirt.

If you think you’re enlightened, go spend a week with your family.

Ram Dass

Resources:

  • Gabor Maté
  • John Gottman
  • Harriet Lerner
  • Susan Cain
  • Elaine N. Aron
  • The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk 
  • Jesus, the Gentle Parent by LR Knost
  • Motherwhelmed by Beth Berry
  • Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents: How to Heal from Distant, Rejecting, or Self-Involved Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson

Linking up: Eclectic Red Barn, Silverado, Random Musings, Ridge Haven, Pinch of Joy, Create with Joy, Suburbia, LouLou Girls, InstaEncouragements, Jeanne Takenaka, Jenerally Informed, God’s Growing Garden, OMHG, Blue Cotton Memory, Life Abundant, Fluster Buster, Joanne Viola, Soaring with Him, Homestead, Penny’s Passion, Try it Like it, Artful Mom, Imparting Grace, Lisa Notes, CWJ, Coffee and Jesus, Answer is Choco, Momfessionals, Being a Wordsmith, Slices of Life, Modern Monticello, Pam’s Party, Mostly Blogging,

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Outgrown

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November 21, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 4 Comments

My eldest had a favorite pair of boots when she was about ten to eleven years old.

She wore those boots way longer than she should have and scrunched up her toes when they became too small.

The first photo evidence I have of the boots is November 2010, and the last evidence I can find is January 2012. Her feet definitely grew a lot during that time, and more than outgrew those boots. She had other shoes, but refused to give up those boots.

I always assumed I would be informed when clothes, shoes, styles were outgrown.

I have four kids and they’re usually really vocal about anything that isn’t just right for them. We’ve had tantrums over socks and tags and soap and hair.

I trusted my kids to tell me they needed new shoes. I asked if the boots were ok, but I should have checked and verified. It was a difficult time for our family, with moving across the country and deployment.

I could make a thousand excuses, but I failed to understand there was a problem in time.

Having too small shoes for about two years gave her hammer toes and affected the tendons and ligaments in her legs. She complained about the leg pain, but never about her toes or feet, or having too-small shoes. I purchased the kids all new shoes, but failed to fully inspect those boots, though I do remember checking at least once and I think she purposely scrunched her toes…and I just believed her.

When we went to the doctor, they were too quick to refer to a specialist – who recommended surgery! Then, we got another referral for physical therapy. We got new shoes, threw out the boots. The PT helped a lot. I also massaged her feet, legs, and back with essential oils. She was at the cusp of puberty and it was almost too late for healing, but we were all very diligent to help her heal and remind her to do her stretches.

She had to stop running track since the pain was too much. She never did pick it back up. Luckily, she was able to participate in Civil Air Patrol and did well in all the physical activities for the few years she was in it.

It’s so hard to watch a child suffer. It’s even worse when I know I should’ve been on top of it and prevented it.

There were too many years when I was in survival mode.

There were too many times I was neglectful and relied too much on my eldest to be older and more mature than she was.

Since I had no village, no family, no friends, no help…I relied on my kids to help…for us all to work together, especially when their dad was deployed. While this sounds great on the surface, it was not feasible long-term and it was really, really hard for all of us. I certainly learned self-reliance because no one else was reliable.

I had her babysit and told myself that she enjoyed the responsibility. She still brags that she potty-trained her siblings. I know she’s proud of that, but I am ashamed that it’s mostly true. She did too much, too soon, and lost much of her childhood too early. She didn’t deserve parentification.

I tried so hard to maintain balance and push her to play and experience fun things, but many of those things she had to do alone while I kept her siblings from interfering or disrupting. I know she is still resentful that I wasn’t always able to be there and give her my undivided attention all the time.

I projected my overly mature childhood onto my daughter and I enmeshed my emotions with hers. I expected her to be like me. And I wasn’t even fully aware that I wasn’t healthy then. So much damage was done.

And the church encouraged all this and told me that I was doing a great job in spite of everything I felt deep down inside that I was doing everything so wrong and I felt so lost and alone. I had no one, no help.

The church and military communities failed us.

I was supposed to be training up a mother’s little helper and raising my daughters to be good wives and mothers. Thankfully, we all balked at those proscribed gender roles and we are better now in our spiritual pursuits. But there is so much healing still taking place.

The boots are just a metaphor for all the times I missed the mark for about ten or more years with my daughter.

It’s not like we couldn’t afford new boots.

A tween girl often isn’t in a place to express herself safely or even know what’s wrong when that’s all she knows. There were some very bad times for several years and I was not always at my best in dealing with issues I had no reference or guidance for, and my kids are “good kids.” I was a “good kid.”

But I want more than just appearances.

This episode further pushed me in a different direction as a parent. I knew something had to change. I’m sad that this catalyst was necessary, but the outcome has been good. The trajectory has continued in a healthier, gentler direction for years.

My eldest child has taught me so much as a person, as a mom, as a daughter.

She taught me what it’s like to speak up for injustice. She’s always been vocal. As a baby, it was colic. As a wee girl, she was bossy and argumentative. As a teen, she was defiant. As a young woman, she is a leader.

She taught me compassion. She always looks to help ease others’ pain. I am proud of her for taking soup to a sick classmate and offering rides to friends. She has helped others to her own detriment at times. Yes, she’s been taken advantage of, and that’s the risk. She continues to have a huge heart.

She taught me a lot about mistakes and regrets and how to make amends, how to truly apologize and forgive. We will never get closure from her abusive father and his family. His parents have passed, so there is no one to ask about events anymore. My parents have no relationship with us and I have confronted them multiple times to no avail. We are really all alone, but she just shrugs away that pain and finds comfort in her friends who are her chosen family.

It seems like I have spent almost my entire life fighting. Fighting to be seen and heard, fighting for my daughter, fighting with my daughter, fighting society to be better for her and my other kids.

She sets boundaries and doesn’t stay in relationships that become toxic. I am proud of her for recognizing when friends and lovers are mean, unhealthy, or not right for her.

She knows when to quit. I always pushed through and maybe that wasn’t the best thing for me, but I saw few alternatives. I had different choices then, and certainly couldn’t envision the future that I am living now. She resents that I pushed her into early college and a part-time job, and I do regret that, but I still don’t know what else I could have done. I’m sad that her young adulthood is so hard and she doesn’t get to enjoy much, is struggling financially, trying to find her place. Outside circumstances with COVID and the university going on strike affected events beyond our control.

We are healing together.

While I wish she had never had to suffer the trauma of being the “guinea pig first child” and had to help to raise me as a parent, I am so pleased we are still close now that she’s an independent adult.

Here’s to more growing closer together.

Resources:

  • Gabor Maté
  • John Gottman
  • Harriet Lerner
  • Susan Cain
  • Elaine N. Aron
  • The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van der Kolk 
  • Jesus, the Gentle Parent by LR Knost
  • Motherwhelmed by Beth Berry
  • Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents: How to Heal from Distant, Rejecting, or Self-Involved Parents by Lindsay C. Gibson

Linking up: Grammy’s Grid, Silverado, Pinch of Joy, Eclectic Red Barn, Random Musings, Ridge Haven, April Harris, Mostly Blogging, Pam’s Party, God’s Growing Garden, LouLou Girls, Suburbia, OMHG, Jenerally Informed, Create with Joy, Soaring with Him, Life Abundant, Penny’s Passion, Slices of Life, Fluster Buster, Homestead, Pam’s Party, Answer is Choco, Pieced Pastimes, Blue Cotton Memory, InstaEncouragements,

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No Compromise

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Please see my suggested resources.

August 15, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 11 Comments

I have tried and tried and tried to make sure my kids know how to navigate healthy relationships in spite of their not having a good role model in me.

I don’t have any friends.

My kids don’t have many friends, and even fewer IRL.

I’m so proud of how kind and helpful and compassionate my children are.

I dream and hope and pray that my children find others who are also kind and compassionate and emotionally healthy. I don’t want them to live their lives alone.

Over the years, I have confronted parents whose children bullied mine. There were a few very scary and dangerous situations that went largely unresolved because of our society’s mantras and the parents’ and groups’ mentality of “boys will be boys” or “they’re just kids.”

For a long time I did try to give those kids the benefit of the doubt and also coach my kids how to handle situations on their own. I don’t like stepping in unless I really have to, and it never helps; it only makes things worse and burns bridges.

It’s also not my job to correct a child who is sexist, racist, ableist, hateful, or just mean. I realize they’re just spouting what they hear from parents and teachers and church leaders. Perhaps a child will grow and learn to question his family’s values and evolve into a better person, perhaps not.

I focus on protecting my child rather than educating yours.

So, we’ve had longs seasons of few or no friends and we look forward to starting over when we move, but we’re settled now and ready to put down roots.

We were excited to meet new people and make new friends when we moved to Ohio about five years ago.

The first neighborhood boy who met us when we had a lemonade stand a few weeks after we settled in seemed great at first.

No one else on our street would play with him and they ignored our kids when he was with them. I assumed the issue was the other kids. A few boys were very mean to mine and we learned to avoid them and whew, that memory is alive and well no matter how those boys have grown up and maybe regret or matured and try to make amends.

The boy seemed always polite to me, mature, made eye contact, and told jokes. My kids like him and we all seemed to get along fine.

He was never allowed in our house or backyard. I respected his parents’ rules, but I thought it was a little weird. They didn’t want to have a relationship with me and we only waved or said hi in passing. My kids said they seemed very strict and they didn’t go inside his house either, but would be invited to his backyard inground pool in summer.

I found out the boy was expelled from our district school for fighting. He attends a private conservative Christian school. He mentioned he was bullied and it led to the fight. I don’t really know details. Perhaps it’s as he says. His family attends a conservative Christian church.

He and my kids all wore themed costumes for Halloween for four years. Last year, my kids said he wasn’t trick or treating with them and they hedged when I asked why. They said he had bad grades and was going with his sister so we waved when we saw him across the street.

He stopped coming by and my kids didn’t go to his house and stopped talking about him. I thought I’ll never have the entire story and it was very sad.

COVID happened and it was hard for everyone. My son especially suffered when all the neighborhood boys still played together and even came to our door constantly to ask for my son, but we isolated and stayed inside. It was a scary time and I had to complain to some parents that we didn’t want their kids to keep coming to our door. It wasn’t my job to tell those kids why.

After lockdown, my kids admitted that the boy said some very hateful things and they made a decision to stop socializing with him.

He told my kids they were going to hell for being gay and trans – only cishet Christian people won’t go to hell. He said all Muslims should be exported or killed and that they were going to hell for terrorism; they’re all terrorists. I was horrified by this! It sounded like some old white man watching Fox News, not some 14 year old Puerto Rican boy. My kids didn’t want me to know until a lot of time had passed because they didn’t want me to confront him or his parents. I’m not even sure how I would confront people who believe these things and it surely wouldn’t matter whatever I could say.

I’m so proud that my kids chose not to continue that relationship. They don’t want to compromise their values or put themselves in awkward positions just to play cards or swim in his pool. I can’t say that I would have been that mature or self-preserving at their age.

My kids chose to protect each other.

At least there is some closure.

He has the audacity to wave at us when he’s riding his bike and we’re on our evening walks. I wonder what the story is that he tells himself. What do his parents know or choose not to realize? Do they even wonder why they’re no longer friends?

My children are 12, 15, 16, and 21. I’m so happy to see my kids making friends through homeschool activities, from their extracurricular events, camp, volunteering, and work. They’ve met some lovely people IRL that they were introduced to online.

I was so worried my children wouldn’t know how to navigate friendships because I don’t model that, but they’re capable of handling themselves so well in social environments!

It’s always been hard for me to make friends and maintain those friendships. I’m in awe that I haven’t ruined my children with my inability to be social. They’re blossoming and growing and being healthy in spite of me!

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You might also like:

  • When Mean Girls Grow Up
  • Is Your Child a Bully?
  • Diligent Parenting
  • Helping Kids Make Friends
  • What If I Don’t Have Friends?
  • Grieving Family Who Are Still Alive
  • Teaching Kids About Healthy Relationships

Linking up: Eclectic Red Barn, OMHG, Suburbia, Shelbee on Edge, Jenerally Informed, LouLou Girls, InstaEncouragements, April Harris, Create with Joy, Pinch of Joy, God’s Growing Garden, Silverado, Random Musings, Ridge Haven, Soaring with Him, Joanne Viola, Simply Coffee, Ducks in a Row, Fluster Buster, Ridge Haven, Penny’s Passion, Try it Like it, Katherine’s Corner, Slices of Life, Imparting Grace, Anchored Abode, Momfessionals, Answer is Choco, Lisa Notes, Being a Wordsmith, Modern Monticello, Pam’s Party, Pieced Pastimes, Mostly Blogging,

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Healing Mother

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Please see my suggested resources.

July 18, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 2 Comments

Parenting is not transactional.

Our kids don’t owe anything us as parents.

When we expect something in return, it’s business.

My dad used to say that he couldn’t bust me in the mouth because he spent so much on braces to fix my teeth. It wasn’t funny. I felt guilty that I had cost him so much money but confused that he wanted to hit me and was making jokes about it. I realize as an adult that my parents only paid to fix my teeth so they wouldn’t be embarrassed by my appearance. It was never about me.

My parents said all those horrible phrases to me about bringing me into this world and providing me with a roof over my head, utilities, food.

“Look at all we’ve done for you!” was said often when they felt I was being ungrateful about anything.

Nothing my parents ever did for me was for my own benefit. It always came with strings attached. I was supposed to “pay for it” somehow.

I was never allowed to make decisions. It was a difficult path to independent adulthood.

I was terrified of my parents. I was never enough. Nothing I ever said or did was enough. And I was a good kid. I did almost all the “right things.” They come back and tell me how ungrateful I am – still. I’m 46 years old and I’m still never good enough.

There are better ways for parents to receive gratitude from their kids than demanding it or trying to buy it or whining and complaining about it.

I am healing myself so I can be a better mother to my children.

I constantly look for ways to delight my children. I research all the time. I want my children to be the best they can be, healthy and happy and strong. I want them to have all the best foods, books, tools, everything – to become who they will be.

It’s not about who I might want them to be. I cannot live vicariously through my kids, no matter what losses I feel in my soul. My own lost little girl cries to sleep at night but I put on a brave face during the day to be a good mom to my kids.

Motherhood is indeed a thankless and often invisible job. It’s behind the scenes. Mothering work is only noticed when it is left undone or isn’t done well (by whose standards?). Moms don’t get to rest. There are no sick days or down days. There’s no such thing as self care for moms and those who do take time to care for themselves have a luxury to pay for others to do the domestic duties or let them slide. And there’s always, always, always blame and shame.

One day a year to celebrate mothers lets our society off the hook for all the lack of community and services and actual help. For the gift of a 6-week unpaid maternity leave that we’re supposed to be oh, so thankful for! Flowers, candy, brunch is supposed to be enough to show gratitude for the invisible labor of motherhood. I never get a day off, not even Mother’s Day or my birthday or any other day.

I enjoy spending time with my kids. I am learning to ask for and express what I want and need. It’s easier now that my kids are all over twelve years old. They’re not babies physically attached or toddlers with separation anxiety or young kids needing constant verbal and visual affirmation. They’re independent thinking, feeling, opinionated, compassionate, empathetic persons!

They’re understanding that I am a mother but also a person with needs, dreams, desires. I get tired and sick sometimes. I need alone time occasionally. I ask for help when I want or need it – trying to do so clearly without whining or exasperation. I can’t expect them to read my mind. I have to teach them to notice what needs to be done and show them how to do it.

It’s taken over twenty years for me to find a voice that was somehow stifled or lost by shame and guilt and humiliation and ridicule. I was a person before I was a mother.

I invite my kids to do projects with me, but I don’t make them feel guilty if they don’t want to or can’t right now or if they say later, in a minute. I ask for my kids’ input and I listen and I make adjustments and I take their considerations to heart without getting my feelings hurt or projecting my issues onto them. (Sometimes, my feelings are hurt, but I keep that to myself.)

It’s not your child’s job to appreciate having a better childhood than you did.

Bonnie Harris

I don’t have to do it all just because our society says that’s what mothers should be and do.

For years, I felt shame and guilt and regret about my very existence. I didn’t think I was lovable. I felt I wasn’t worth anything unless I performed well – and I never felt that I performed well. I had so internalized the way my parents treated me that I projected that onto everyone else. I didn’t receive the love from my husband and kids.

I take a bath every single night with chamomile tea and a book. This is my me time – for thirty minutes alone. It’s important and everyone in my household knows it’s my time. I do try to make sure everything is in order so I can have that thirty uninterrupted minutes.

It took me years to start healing myself and realizing that my kids are healthier and lovelier than I am. They show empathy and seek relationship with me even when I don’t feel well. They are healing me. They are helping me find myself.

This is it, I thought. This is my life. And sometimes, living sacred just means being present—moment to moment, day by day.

Rivvy Neshama

I could complain and cry about how my parents don’t love me in ways I understand. I really don’t want to focus on the negative. I have made bids for 46 years that are often ignored, thwarted, ridiculed. I am tired. I have set boundaries. I have received silent treatment. My parents are emotionally immature. They are 80 and I’m an only child. I focus on my four kids now. So much of what I do is an opposite of what I learned and how I was treated. I am sad my kids don’t have grandparents.

Ways my kids show me they love me every single day:

  • Sending me memes, TikTok videos, and Instagram posts about foraging, plants, birds, cats, jokes, music
  • Making me tea, just whenever
  • Snuggling during read alouds
  • Watching history documentaries, movies, and TV shows with me
  • Riding along to the grocery store and helping (so fun with teens!)
  • Planning and making meals or baking with me
  • Planning, gardening, and doing yard work with me
  • Sitting and talking at the table after dinner
  • Helping clean up the kitchen
  • Hiking and walking with me outside in nature
  • A MYRIAD of other ways…my kids are loved and loving

My kids have been, are, and will be good people. They are thoughtful. They are learning how to be emotionally intelligent, loving, and kind. I am constantly amazed by their thoughts, words, decisions. I remember how I was at their age and I am so proud of who they are.

You might also like:

  • Parenting with Depression
  • Emotional Health
  • Raised Better
  • Parenting Teens
  • Parenting Young Adults
  • Disciplining without Control
  • What Respectful Parenting Looks Like
  • Breaking the Cycle of Negativity
  • Parenting Doesn’t Just End

Resources:

  • Motherwhelmed by Beth Berry
  • Jesus, the Gentle Parent by LR Knost
  • Adult Children of Emotionally Immature Parents by Lindsay Gibson
  • Raising An Emotionally Intelligent Child by John Gottman
  • The Mother Dance: How Children Change Your Life by Harriet Lerner
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Filed Under: Family Tagged With: motherhood, parenting

Summer Slide

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Please see my suggested resources.

June 27, 2022 By Jennifer Lambert 8 Comments

Please stop with the summer slide bullshit.

Please stop crowd sourcing ideas to force your kids to do chores and academic work over the summer.

Stop with the chore charts. Enough with coercion. Stop with the control. Stop the abuse.

Every summer, and often throughout the year, I see parents, usually moms, ask how to get their kids to do anything other than use a screen.

Are we so miserable that we want our kids to be miserable too?

I played all summer long until I began college. What has changed that we want our kids to suffer or earn the right to play?

I don’t earn my screentime. Why should my kids earn theirs?

I’m gonna go out on a limb and surely be unpopular, but I don’t require my kids to do anything to earn screentime. I don’t earn screentime. I don’t require them to complete anything academic in the summer. I don’t require summer reading.

The interesting thing is they are very willing to help with household tasks when they have freedom and respect. I help them put their clothes away and clean and organize their rooms and spaces. They need scaffolding and modeling and can’t be expected to know how to be a functioning adult without guidance.

They choose to do puzzles, outside play, reading, board games…when they’re not desperately thinking of their next earned screen minute. Screens suddenly become just another activity to do along with so many other options. There is no scarcity mentality with the freedom to choose.

I think the screen is just becoming a symbol for our own triggers and lack of control and communication skills

The only rule is all devices are plugged in away from beds at bedtime.

My kids are 12, 15, 16, 21.

They do actually notice when things need done and do chores cheerfully because they’re members of a household where they have a voice.

My kids can’t talk back to me.

We discuss options and I state my case about my concerns for my kids’ safety and health. They have no reason to be deceitful. They know that I love and respect them and truly have their best interests in my mind and heart.

I realize it’s the societal norm for kids to be monitored and controlled and dictated, but it creates disharmony and it’s so much more work keeping track. We’re not about competition or charts or checklists. We’re about cooperation.

We homeschool, but they have freedom there too. We go with the flow rather than strict schedule.

Schools are coercive, humiliating, controlling, and abusive. Students are forced to learn information to regurgitate the info on a test and then they promptly purge that from their memories. Students don’t learn valuable skills in school; they learn how to jump through hoops. Schools are not preparing kids to be questioners, thinkers, or leaders. The authorities don’t want people to have a voice, autonomy, or freedom.

It’s ironic that so many school assignments requires screens and going online.

Children only have 18-21 summers before they have to be working adults. I want them to make memories and have fun, to be wild and free. I don’t want them to dread summertime as just another chore-filled season.

Many schools go year-round and lots of parents overschedule their kids, including during summer. Just because it’s expected and considered the norm doesn’t mean we have to participate in making our kids work year-round.

Also, enough with all the tutoring and test prep.

Kids are tired. Let them play.

What does summer look like for your kids?

You might also like:

  • 10 Ways to Have a Sandlot Summer
  • 50 Frugal Summer Outdoor Activities
  • How To Have an Easy Summer
  • How to Have a Legendary Summer
  • Stop Making Everything So Educational
  • 12 Things Homeschoolers Don’t Have to Do
  • I Don’t Teach English
  • We Don’t Do Testing
  • We Don’t Do a Co-op
  • I Threw out the Printables

Linking up: Eclectic Red Barn, Mostly Blogging, Create with Joy, Anita Ojeda, Pinch of Joy, Silverado, Random Musings, InstaEncouragements, LouLou Girls, Jenerally Informed, Shelbee on the Edge, Ridge Haven, God’s Growing Garden, Ducks in a Row, OMHG, Soaring with Him, Joanne Viola, RidgeHaven, Fluster Buster, Penny’s Passion, Bijou Life, Try it Like it, Artful Mom, Bijou Online, Momfessionals, Modern Monticello, Slices of Life, Imparting Grace, CWJ, Answer is Chocolate, April Harris, Suburbia,

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Filed Under: Family Tagged With: parenting, summer

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