Red Flags

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June 1, 2020 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

It’s important for me to teach my kids about red flags in relationships.

I didn’t have anyone guide me in healthy relationships when I was a teen or young adult and I found myself in toxic patterns.

We seldom see the red flags while we’re walking past them or living with them.

We want to ignore the red flags. We’ve been taught to only see the best in people. We’ve been taught to be polite and compliant.

I realize there were so many red flags in my previous relationships that I should’ve seen, that maybe my parents and friends should’ve said, “Hey! This isn’t ok!” but they didn’t. Even when I knew I wasn’t healthy enough to protect myself and relied on them for help. They didn’t vet my relationships well. They didn’t see it either or didn’t care.

I was deceived about so many things. I had no power to discern the truth.

I was so naive. I was so gullible.

Big Red Flags

Communication

He made fun of me, belittling me, humiliating, shaming. I took it because he was “older and wiser” and I just thought I surely must really be dumb.

He was often distant. He monopolized conversation. It was always about him. He didn’t want to hear my stories. He didn’t want to know what I did at work that day. He only wanted to talk about himself.

As an introvert, I’m a great listener. This wasn’t a red flag at all for me. I loved learning about his past and hearing the stories that were important to him.

But I failed to realize that I wasn’t important to him.

Trust

I want to be trusting. I want to believe the best. I’m still devastated that people will lie and deceive.

Years later, I’m still realizing how he lied to me and about the stupidest things. Things that shouldn’t have really mattered.

He lied about dealing drugs. He lied about stopping the dealing. The gallon bag in the hall closet was not full of catnip.

He left me at a party with his friends. I wasn’t that comfortable with his friends. I didn’t know what to say or do around them. I had to wait hours to get a ride home.

After the separation and divorce, he lied about my daughter. I was a puddle of emotions every weekend she visited him. I wondered who she stayed with, what she ate, where she slept. I asked why she returned with infected bug bites all over her legs and the worst diaper rash anyone had ever seen in history of diaper rashes. He had no good answers. She stayed with his father, his niece, his girlfriend. He had to work and he wasn’t that involved or interested.

And I just recently found out (eighteen years later!) he plotted to start a custody battle. But he never paid the child support or the credit card that the court mandated.

His narrative to his family and friends about the divorce are vastly different than the truth.

Abuse

He was addicted to porn. He made fun of me. He didn’t like my lack of experience. He said no one had every criticized him in bed. He didn’t like the way I looked. He didn’t like where I had hair. He wanted me to look fake and plastic like the porn models.

So many red flags before he ever hit me.

Then I really believed I deserved that first time. I calmly patched the hole in the wall of our rental house and fixed the windowpane.

The second time he hit me, I left. I didn’t want my daughter witnessing that.

He was furious with me for being so hands off while our daughter toddled around, learning to walk. She stumbled and bumped her head on the coffee table and he lost it.

Earlier that day, he had been talking about wanting another baby. I was barely hanging on financially. We had just bought a house near his parents. I was commuting to work about an hour each way. He made about $10/hour, developing photo film.

His family is Pentecostal evangelical. This was the first taste of any real religion or church I had. It all but broke me. They didn’t like questions. They didn’t like women being intelligent or leaders. It was hard and I tried to conform to what they wanted. I thought it must be right and good. I never could live up to their standards. We got married because his church said it was sin to live together.

I don’t even remember what my wedding ring looked like. I do remember picking out one together at a shop, but he lapsed on the layaway, so I didn’t get that one. He wore a borrowed, too big suit to our small wedding in their warehouse church. The “reception” was at his parents’ house. I remember cubing cheese in the kitchen and there wasn’t enough food to go around. My father didn’t go at all. My mother attended the wedding and went home. There was only one night in a local hotel I was comped as a kickback from work. Nothing was idyllic. Nothing was looked back on as charming. It was sad and devastating and embarrassing.

I can’t remember him ever giving me gifts. I remember maxing out the Best Buy credit card for electronics for him. I remember explaining and then arguing that the bank card was attached to our joint account and if he blew money on cigarettes and soda, I didn’t have enough for gas to work or monthly bills.

I was criticized by his family for negotiating the purchase of vehicles from his cousin, who worked as a local Chevy salesman. I was encouraged to use that dealer because that’s where his whole family went. I also went to another dealer just to check pricing and loan info. I was able to get a better deal than from his cousin. They accused me of disloyalty to their family. I still find it ironic that they thought it was better to pay more for loyalty.

I should have seen and reacted to the red flags sooner. Hindsight is always 20/20.

It takes a long time, years…to heal from abuse. Trauma reactions continue with my current relationships. I try to recognize where my triggers occur and deal with that so I don’t confuse my husband and children. It’s never about them.

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Grieving Family Who Are Still Alive

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April 6, 2020 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

We don’t have any family nearby or any relationship with any family really anyway.

When my daughter and I told our therapists about my parents and the in-laws, they were just like, “Well, that’s a clusterf*ck.”

I really needed the affirmation that it’s not me. I needed an outsider to tell me that I tried really hard to develop a relationship and was met at every turn with negativity, disdain, ridicule. I needed a third party to tell my my parents aren’t the nicest people and that I’m not a bad child.

I’ve always felt out of place – at home, at school, with my own aunts and uncles and cousins, with people whom I thought were my friends over the years and at various places where we’ve lived.

May all that is unforgiven in you Be released. May your fears yield Their deepest tranquillities. May all that is unlived in you Blossom into a future Graced with love.
John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us

It was nothing new to me to feel a little awkward around my new family. I just tried harder. and more.

I don’t have any good role models for healthy relationships. I am winging it and reparenting myself and doing my best to raise four healthy children without trauma.

We live in a generation that is highly skilled at allowing connections to fade away. Because of social media and cell phones, we think people are replaceable, and that’s silly. You cannot replace the energy of someone who is genuine especially if they’re putting the consistent effort out, to be in your life. Appreciate them, cherish them, those people are gold.
Sylvester Mcnutt

Grieving Family

My husband’s parents passed away the first year we married.

I know it’s really hard for him even still, probably forever. I never had time to build a relationship at all.

While most newlyweds stress over which holidays to spend with which inlaws, I never got to have that delight. We’ve never had the ability to travel over the holidays to visit my parents in Georgia or Aaron’s two sisters in Illinois after his mom passed.

Neither my husband nor I really know our cousins or extended family.

I am the youngest grandchild and many of my aunts, uncles, and older cousins have been passing away frequently the last few years.

We moved to Texas our second year of marriage and I tried really hard to develop a relationship with his paternal uncle living there – which was my husband’s entire reason for wanting to move there. A relationship just never developed after two years. We had dinner a couple times and that was about the extent of it. We were just never accepted. It doesn’t help that he raves about the two sisters and their kids online and travels annually to Illinois to visit them and extending family. He just completely ignores us.

Grieving Sisters

I tried and tried and tried to develop a relationship with my husband’s two sisters but it has always been a failure.

They don’t want me.

As an only child, I am equally devastated and indifferent.

I didn’t see them from our second year of marriage at his mom’s funeral until about four years later.

I flew from Utah to Chicago for his youngest sister’s outdoor July wedding with four children, alone, while my husband was deployed. At the time I felt honored my middle girls were requested to be flower girls. My son was barely a year old and spent too much time with babysitters who were strangers to us. My eldest daughter (from a previous relationship) was asked to be an usher until I pitched a minor fit for her to be a junior bridesmaid like the other sister’s daughter. The uncle was even rude to me at the wedding and reception, seriously?

I was picked up from the airport by the middle sister and put my son in a filthy borrowed carseat. She took us to her house and fed my kids eggs and ramen. I was stressed and exhausted and I felt like a burden the entire week as I tried to compensate by cooking every meal for 9 people, cleaning, doing laundry, buying presents. I even disposed of a rodent family in her basement and cleaned up cat pee when the cat freaked out with all the air mattresses my kids were using in her territory.

That might have been the beginning of the end for me.

They drove down to visit us our last summer in Utah before we even knew we were moving to Europe. It was stressful. I felt like an entertainer, cook, tour director. We were constantly on the move since it was their vacation. Nothing I did seemed good enough and I was exhausted.

They haven’t visited us since we moved to Ohio. They couldn’t fit us in their schedule between sports tournaments that they traveled to/from on the road right near us.

I had to stop following my husband’s sisters, brothers-in-law, cousins, and uncle because their entire social media is softball, baseball, sports, kitschy crafts, home remodeling, and how great their friends and family are – except me and my children.

They’ve told my husband to tell me to quit writing and posting online about homeschooling since they feel it’s a kick in the teeth to them, as public school teachers. As if I didn’t teach in various school environments for ten years before committing to homeschooling. I’ve examined my posts and my heart and I’ve tried to be kind, welcoming, open, forgiving over and over again. I realize many families have vast differences and I want to accept and learn from those differences. I have a voice and I will use it.

For a long time, I just told myself it’s because we didn’t get a lot of time to get to know one another before I married Aaron and we move frequently with the military. I want to understand they’re closer to each other than they can ever be to me and my kids. But it’s becoming obvious that I’m not wanted nor welcomed.

I stressed for ten or so years to send the perfect thoughtful presents of equal value to my husband’s middle sister’s three kids at Christmas and birthdays while receiving handmedowns that I wouldn’t even donate to thrift stores and dollar spot junk in return. When I asked to exchange gift cards instead since we moved overseas, it was met with exasperation and online gift lists. I asked to just stop exchanging gifts or gift cards and I know that didn’t go over well.

We offered to meet any or all of them for dinner when we visited Chicago, which is about an hour away from where they live. We drove 7ish hours for an event that got canceled last minute. They couldn’t fit us into their schedule.

His youngest sister and husband fostered and recently adopted a little girl and I didn’t even know. I found out on social media.

I just always wanted to be a part of a big family and have my kids be loved by a big family and it just hurts me that we’re not wanted nor welcome.

Grieving my Parents

My parents adore my husband. They adore my son.

They don’t care for me or my daughters and they aren’t even trying to hide it. We even often get lesser gifts at holidays.

My parents claim they’re on “a fixed income” which is a great reality for many elderly people, but they own a 3500 sq. ft. house, 3 vehicles, no bills, and a mortgage of $850/month as they sit back and receive several retirement checks and social security that total more than my husband makes.

I try not to be bitter and I seldom ask for anything.

When my parents casually ask any of us what we want for a birthday or Christmas, we never know what the right answer is because we’ve been told so many times to choose something else, that they won’t be able to get that.

I received hate mail after my parents visited me during my husband’s deployment – in May, but not the week of my youngest daughter’s birthday or over Mother’s Day. They refused to stay at my house and instead opted for a nearby hotel. They sauntered over midday, about lunchtime and then naptime for my son. It disrupted our whole schedule and they kept telling my girls to go away and play outside or in the basement. I was super stressed and confused. My mom made my middle daughter cry about something irrelevant. They didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything except sit on my sofa and they were upset my TV was in the basement. Then, they got mad and left early and I later received an actual letter in the 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.

I just always envisioned my kids having loving generous grandparents and it hurts me so bad that they don’t.

I never know what to say to my mother. She is disinterested in what the kids or I are ever doing. She doesn’t pay attention when I do tell her anything.

At least once a month, I realize I’ve really messed up again because my father quits communicating with me until I apologize and make amends for asking him to please stop sending me racist emails or he told me what an awful mother I am again and how worthless my almost twenty-year-old daughter is.

After 44 years of hearing how stupid and worthless I am, I wonder if I should just believe it.

I know I am an awful daughter.

I grieve the loss of relationships that never happened. I grieve my husband’s parents whom I never knew and only met a couple times. I grieve the uncle who doesn’t want us. I grieve the sisters I longed for my entire life who don’t want me. I grieve the cousins my children don’t know.

Just like mourning a physical death, my grief is real too. My grief comes in waves, at various times – suddenly and unexpected. I have never chosen to sever ties with anyone. I try and I try and I try again and again and again. I suffer the loss of something I never even had. There will probably never be closure. It’s never easy.

You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.
Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

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My Father is a Racist

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March 30, 2020 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

I asked my father to please stop sending me racist emails.

After ignoring me and pouting for a week, he sent me a hateful email telling me that he is proud of being a racist and he can cut me off if I don’t like it.

Well then.

I am 44 years old and my parents are 78. I am an only child.

My parents have disowned me before.

I was 21. They sent me a torn-up copy of their will in the mail and informed me that they had a new one filed with their lawyer, leaving their estate to a local college.

He has ignored me for weeks, months, even years.

I didn’t realize I grew up in an abusive household until very recently. I was spanked as a child, but that was normal for my generation. He seldom hit me after I was a teen, but I have extreme trauma responses to certain verbal phrases and tones of voice. I was frequently told I was stupid and worthless when I disagreed with my parents or didn’t meet their expectations. I was often negatively compared to his mother.

I was not allowed to socialize with anyone who wasn’t White. This wasn’t exceptionally difficult until I was a teenager since there really just weren’t that many non-Whites in my elementary school or neighborhood and races often separated themselves at lunch and on the playground throughout high school and college. I didn’t understand or think much about it then. It’s just the way things were.

He was often traveling when I was growing up. He always said he hated it and he had anxiety from the stress, but it was much more pleasant for my mom and me not having him around much.

I couldn’t have friends over to the house if he was home.

I don’t remember him being at any of my birthday parties.

He didn’t come to the hospital when I attempted suicide.

He refused to come to my first wedding.

He refused to attend my graduation ceremony when I earned my Master’s degree in education.

He didn’t visit me when I gave birth to my son.

He sent me hate mail while my husband was deployed the first time, telling me what an awful mother I am.

He had a tantrum and broke promises to my children when we stayed briefly at my parents’ house during our PCS from Germany to Ohio.

He’s told me many times that it’s all my fault, that I am disrespectful and selfish.

Since I always put myself last, it especially hurts deep when I’m called selfish.

It’s really hard sometimes.

Therapists makes it sound so easy that I should find and have a support system. Moving every 2-4 years with the military makes that harder than it should be.

I’ve never had a support system. I am all I have.

I’m tired of walking on eggshells all the time.

Grief is real.

Though its way is to strike
In a dumb rhythm,
Stroke upon stroke,
As though the heart
Were an anvil,
The hurt you sent
Had a mind of its own.
Something in you knew
Exactly how to shape it,
To hit the target,
Slipping into the heart
Through some wound-window
Left open since childhood.
While it struck outside,
It burrowed inside,
Made tunnels through
Every ground of confidence.
For days, it would lie still
Until a thought would start it.
Meanwhile, you forgot,
Went on with things
And never even knew
How that perfect
Shape of hurt
Still continued to work.
Now a new kindness
Seems to have entered time
And I can see how that hurt
Has schooled my heart
In a compassion I would
Otherwise have never learned.
Somehow now I have begun to glimpse
The unexpected fruit
Your dark gift had planted
And I thank you
For your unknown work.
John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us

I just tried to set a small but clear boundary: stop sending me racist emails.

There’s a lot of white folks out there hanging on to their God-given right to look down on some other class of people. They feel it slipping away and they’re scared. This guy says he’s bringing back yesterday, even if he has to use brass knuckles to do it, and drag women back to the cave by their hair. He’s a bully, everybody knows that. But he’s their bully.
When men fear the loss of what they know, they will follow any tyrant who promises to restore the old order.
Barbara Kingsolver, Unsheltered

I couldn’t reply to his email or call him like he requested. I knew I would make it worse since I was so hurt, upset, and angry.

I try to capitulate. I try to write his attitudes off as old, retired Army, the way he grew up in the 50s. But those are just lame excuses. There are numerous others his age, military, with similar circumstances who are not racist.

Every time I think things are good, going well, I am shocked into this twisted reality where my parents are not good people, not nice people.

Then he sent me another email over the weekend that he had received his birthday card and orchid and apparently all is well.

This is not normal behavior. I shouldn’t have to appease him with gifts like he’s a god, like he thinks he is.

Is this the precursor to dementia, Alzheimer’s? I grew up with this kind of abuse cycle, but is it getting worse or is it that I’m just older and won’t abide it?

This can’t be ok.

We cannot control another’s behavior, but we can control our own response to another’s behavior.

Happiness is letting go of what you think your life is supposed to look like and celebrating it for everything that it is.
Mandy Hale

Want To Have Better Conversations About Racism With Your Parents? Here’s How

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Lessons from Quarantine

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March 22, 2020 By Jennifer Lambert 12 Comments

I didn’t even realize my normal introverted stay-at-home-homeschooling lifestyle was called “quarantine” until people started having real meltdowns on social media about being forced to stay home, work from home, not eat out, not socializing with friends at bars, restaurants, parties, etc.

People seem to really not like their kids, cooking at home, staying home, or walking in nature.

For years, everyone has underestimated my desire to stay home. I’m an introvert and I’m tired of apologizing for my simple lifestyle.

Schools are canceled. College classes are canceled. Churches are closed. Restaurants and stores are closed. Sports are canceled. Libraries and other fun places we would occasionally go to are closed. The kids’ gymnastics and ice skating lessons are canceled.

Very little of this really affects me but I’m trying so hard to empathize with people who are upset about it all. I am amazed at how well my kids handle disappointment and I’m sometimes struggling.

While I understand these times are hard for extroverts like my teen daughter, we can adjust and help each other through this.

What can we learn from quarantine?

Let us live in hope of a better day.

Lessons from Quarantine

Love Your Neighbor.

I’m very concerned by people who are living in denial that this virus is dangerous and deadly. I’m concerned about people who are still traveling and vacationing.

I’m worried about the people who can’t get their needs met – the people laid off, unable to work, immunocompromised, starving children, abusive families, those with mental illness.

The economy is surely hurting and will take a while to recover. Perhaps this is the time our leaders can rethink how wealth is distributed and what programs should be in place as societal safety nets.

I love seeing people offering to help others – by picking up groceries or however people need help. All the online threads with GoFundMe and payment apps to help pay bills. As long as it’s not caremongering – posturing and flashy “look at me and all the good I’m doing!” Performance-based-Christianity is a virus itself.

But it’s sad we weren’t more prepared as a nation and world. May we come out on the other side of this with new perspective in how to serve others.

Many church leaders are posting mini services and prayer chains on social media. They offer hope and connection to those who are anxious and scared.

We’re all learning how to love and it’s so, so sad to still see hate, exclusion, blame, and negativity out there.

Boundaries.

While I’m used to being at home with my kids all day, every day…the mental load of realizing that we shouldn’t go out and all our extracurricular courses are cancelled and no one can play or socialize with friends is still very hard.

I’m not really much of a rule maker, but I have to institute some boundaries to make sure we don’t regress into chaos since weekends aren’t anything anymore. I’ve never really stressed about screentime, but I will not have disrespectful attitudes.

My almost twenty year old daughter is struggling with having her freedom sucked away. I do get it. It’s difficult for a fledgling adult to have her wings clipped and it’s not her fault. Her anxiety is running rampant. Her college classes were canceled for the whole semester and everything is online and she doesn’t do well with that education model. She has a part-time job at a local bank and she’s at least able to work a few days a week at their drive-thru (the inside bank is closed) when many cannot work. It hurts me that she would prefer greasy fast food instead of our home cooked meals. I will not have her treating her young siblings like her peers, showing them inappropriate Tik Tok videos, Instagram, or Snapchat, and wanting to watch unsuitable films and shows with them.

There have been lectures, slamming doors, angry texts, and rolling eyes. It’s really hard to be a gentle parent sometimes. I’m not sure what to do or say since it all seems wrong.

My husband works from home most evenings and weekends while still going to work Monday-Friday 7-5. He’s a military medical lab manager and it’s stressful everywhere in the medical communities right now. I’m feeling sometimes like I did when he was deployed. He’s here, but he’s not really here.

Sometimes, I really just want to be alone for an hour – in my home office, on the deck, in the bathroom. In silence.

Simplicity.

I like the simple life.

We cook all our meals at home. Restaurant closures don’t affect us at all since we rarely dine out and rarely get takeout and never delivery. I’ve never used a meal delivery service and I don’t plan to start. I’m concerned for food service industry and their jobs and well-being more than my lack of ability to get prepared or precooked food.

We’ve been striving to get debt-free for years and we are getting pretty close. Our investments took a hit as I’m sure many others have noticed. We’re not especially worried since we’re in that for the long haul.

I’m not much of a shopper. I mean I order tons of things online for our homeschool and when the kids ask for something (and they rarely ask for anything!). But I really loathe going inside stores. I don’t care about fashion or accessories or jewelry or makeup. I love seeing the beautiful regular people using this time to show us their tutorials online though.

Of course it’s easier not to spend money and pay off debts when there’s nowhere to go and no one to visit. There’s no point in buying anything.

We read Deuteronomy 15 along with history read aloud of the 2008-09 housing crash and that really was interesting in light of current events. Perhaps we really need a Jubilee?

We’ve been cleaning and purging for spring. Making much needed updates and repairs that have been on our list for ages. We just bought our house!

We read lots. That doesn’t change. We’re bingeing dystopian film and books too!

We do lots of creative things like art, crafts, jewelry…

We play Legos, board games, Switch and Wii, iPads…

We evaluate our priorities and lifestyle all the time and continue to simplify.

Going Outside.

I’m seeing so many more people outside – walking, running, skating, biking, with dogs. They mostly keep a good distance and wave or call hello. It’s pleasant and I hope it continues.

The outdoors aren’t closed or canceled except when they’re getting swamped with people not following the distancing rules.

We love nature and the outdoors and we still do our almost daily walks around our pond and hike off in the woods in our backyard. We play in our driveway and yard.

We love seeing the blossoms and buds that are new each day as the seasons change. We watch the birds and squirrels. We await the new babies.

The warmer weather and sunshine are very welcome.

Making Memories.

We’re pretty doing the same things we’ve always done.

Our life is mostly unchanged.

I wonder what memories we will have of this time in the years to come… What will our kids tell their children? What will history say of us?

We baked brownies and breads, learned how to perfect homemade pasta, had more meals with our families, bought bidets during the great tissue shortage, and shared more of our lives online with our neighbors, friends, and family.

Sometimes, we have to go offline and protect our anxious minds. Perhaps we can grow from this time of rest.

Maybe we’re understanding what community means.

We’re learning what love means in a time of crisis.

How are you passing the time?

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A Decade Later

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November 25, 2019 By Jennifer Lambert 21 Comments

So much has happened in ten years.

We lived in Hawaii. We explored Oahu, Maui, and The Big Island.

My husband adopted my daughter.

I was pregnant with my son.

We were and still are shifting to gentler, more respectful parenting, constantly reevaluating methods and learning.

I’ve homeschooled our four kids for over fifteen years now. I’ve come full circle in my educational and religious beliefs after exploring so many options, many of which were very harmful to me and my family.

We’re a military family. We moved from Hawaii to Utah to Germany to Ohio.

Looking back over the last decade, I realize there are few photos of me since I’m usually the one behind the camera.

I rarely take selfies. We rarely get family photos. My kids don’t have a record of me in pictures.

This picture was taken in fall 2016.

Here’s a photo of me in the same outfit in May 2019.

It’s a bit of a glow up. I feel more confident and healthy.

It’s been an adventure for sure.

I’m trying to do better to ask my family to snap photos of me, preferably when I don’t have my mouth full.

I’ve changed quite a bit in the last decade, especially the last couple years. I think I’ve improved. I’m never content with a status quo. I’m constantly growing.

If we are not regularly deeply embarrassed by who we are, the journey to self-knowledge hasn’t begun.
Alain de Botton

Self Improvement

Health

I lost 20+ pounds the last couple years.

I’m not concerned with weight as a number. I’m not concerned with aging gracefully. I just want to be healthy.

The first picture is the heaviest I ever was, not pregnant. I weighed in at about 175. I didn’t feel good. My knees hurt. I felt tired all the time. I was too sedentary. I didn’t eat well. I didn’t exercise enough or correctly. I was depressed. I needed to jumpstart my metabolism.

I have no medical complications or issues. Thank God.

I take supplements that work for me. Glutathione and progesterone before bed. B vitamins and evening primrose in the mornings. I add collagen and flax to my smoothies.

I massage castor oil into my hands, scalp, and thighs probably weekly.

I drink lots of water. I only have 2-3 cups of caffeine each day.

I pray and meditate every day.

I try to go outside every day.

I don’t have social media on my smartphone or iPad.

I will say that I seldom have joint pain now and I feel happier and more energetic.

Food

I try to eat real foods.

I happen to really like almost all foods. I have no allergies or sensitivities.

Food has no morality.

Fiber is really important. I add chia and flax to my smoothies.

I splurge and sometimes get takeout from Raising Cane’s. I actually seldom eat out. I drink a beer or glass of wine with dinners on weekends.

I don’t like this idea of “cheat days” or “being good” by eating more veggies or the idea that veganism will save the world.

I know sugar isn’t good for me and causes health problems, so I do try to limit my refined sugar intake.

I really like bread.

I eat mostly what I want, what I like, when I’m hungry. Sometimes, that means coffee at brunchtime and a sensible dinner. I suppose it’s intermittent fasting, but I just eat when I want to, not when society tells me to.

I teach my kids that balance and moderation is key.

Exercise

I do HIIT workouts about three times a week.

I had physical therapy for my knee last year and I continue to practice what I learned with my exercise ball, balance trainer, kettle weight, and hip band.

Here’s how I maintain my health. It’s not all about exercise and eating!

Everyone is different. I’m not competing with anyone but myself.

I try to walk outside 1-3 miles every evening after dinner. If I don’t get my walk in, I don’t feel well and I don’t sleep well. This is my down time to destress and listen to the birds and wind. It calms me. I get to think and work through problems or issues or conversations.

Rest

Rest is so, so, so important.

I try to not be too busy. I like being peaceful and not rushed.

Life happens.

Even good stress can affect us physically and mentally.

When I’m stressed, I get bloated. I don’t sleep well. I feel anxious. It’s a vicious cycle.

Moving every 3 or so years is stressful. Cats get sick. Finances get wonky. Car accidents or repairs that can’t be avoided. I take extra care during stressful life events.

I try not to overschedule the kids so we don’t have to hurry and we can almost always have dinner together.

We have leisurely mornings over breakfast. We do reading. I do work while they complete their lessons. We watch shows or run errands. Evenings are for sports, dinner, walking, more reading, prayers.

Learning

I am constantly reading. I love to read books about parenting, education, religion, psychology, politics, history, historical and speculative fiction.

I have stacks of books on my shelves and tables and oodles of Kindle editions. I get books from the library if I can.

I like to read articles about my many topics of interest. These often lead to more books from their bibliography and source notes and quotations.

Learning is very important to me. I want to keep up with everything. I want to fill in the gaps in my lackluster Georgia public school education.

My aunt and several elderly female cousins had Alzheimer’s and I worry about my parents and my husband and myself.

I’m constantly reevaluating my priorities as my family and I grow and change.

What are your priorities?

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Ashamed

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June 10, 2019 By Jennifer Lambert 15 Comments

We aren’t born ashamed.

We have to learn how to be ashamed.

And then we shame others so we don’t feel alone.

Our culture thrives on shame.

I think we have to remember constantly that shaming is one of the deepest tools of Imperialist White Supremacist Capitalist patriarchy because shame produces trauma and trauma often produces paralysis.
bell hooks

Parents are told to shame their children into behaving. Teachers shame students in class to conform. Peers shame each other and it’s considered normal, but it’s really bullying. And when they grow up, these adults bully and shame others to keep control.

We feel guilty when we do something wrong.

We feel ashamed when we believe that we are bad.

I don’t dance.

I used to dance.

I first took lessons when I was in first grade.

I loved ballet and tap. I loved the pink and black practice suits and the recital costumes. I loved the music and the counting and the French words and the practicing and the barre with the stretches. I could point my toes in a perfect arch and suck in the dimples on my buttocks to please my teacher.

I love watching musicals and ballets – live and on TV…the pretty costumes and twirling and how easy it looks.

My parents couldn’t or wouldn’t pay for dance lessons after a year. I was heartbroken. I begged every year to be re-enrolled, but they didn’t take me seriously or couldn’t afford it until I was 12. The studio really didn’t have beginner courses for anyone as old as I was, so I was placed in a class for adults who just wanted the exercise. It was embarrassing. I was good and I was placed in the recital with other dancers my age. I could’ve possibly moved on to pointe the next year or so, but I was too ashamed to continue when I was awkward, lanky, developing. I hadn’t danced for so long and I felt so behind my peers.

I quit dancing and I still regret it.

That feeling of shame rears its hot face even now that I’m older. My husband loves to dance and he used to teach lessons. I don’t even want to dance with him in the privacy of my living room. Ballroom dance and contemporary dance are very different from ballet, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

I love to watch him dance with the kids and teach them the classic moves.

The only thing that should ever make a child feel small is the great expanse of Mother Nature.
Nicolette Sowder

Shame isn’t an easy thing to ignore or overcome.

Shame permeates our society.

I’ve been bullied and shamed in parenting circles, at work, in church…it’s like an epidemic or an addiction. People think shame is normal.

We are taught with shame at home, in schools, and in churches.

Brené Brown poses the question of why people feel so disconnected from each other, and she answers it with a very simple response: Shame. Shame, she believes, is the culprit: “I ran into this unnamed thing that absolutely unraveled connection in a way that I didn’t understand or had never seen. And so I pulled back out of the research and thought, I need to figure out what this is. And it turned out to be shame.” (Brown 2010)
Now, I don’t know about you, but I can think of a whole number of other reasons that people experience deep wells of fear, alienation, and disconnection from one another: racism, ableism, homoantagonism, transantagonism, fatphobia, classism, ethnocentrism, poverty, white supremacy, the tyranny of normalcy, unequal distribution of wealth, violence, warfare, the prison-industrial complex, the disability gulag, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, sexism, and binarism. Just to name a few.
Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg

Shame at Home

Almost all the parenting books, blogs, experts teach shame.

We’re supposed to punish, cajole, bribe, humiliate, ridicule, coerce, abuse our kids into “proper” behavior.

I feel this idea of being shamed into obedience is even worse in Christian circles. There is this idea of a sin/shame cycle that must be beaten (literally or verbally) out of children.

At home, I was hit, belittled, told I was stupid and worthless. My parents thought negative conditioning would create in me a desire to improve. But, actually, it creates dissonance and a feeling of helplessness. Eventually, I began to believe I was stupid and worthless.

My interests weren’t important. I was ridiculed for loving art, music, literature – mere hobbies that wouldn’t offer a well-paying career.

I stopped trying in school about 11th grade. I almost failed algebra II and chemistry. I skipped classes. I didn’t see any point to any of it.

Shame in School

Schools rely on a shame model to produce compliant students.

I lived most of my school days in fear.

Fear of punishment, fear of humiliation, fear of being called on, fear of hearing my name, fear of stepping out of line.

My first grade teacher put a BIG RED X beside my name because I knew how to write it in cursive and we weren’t supposed to know that yet and she didn’t want me to show off.

But the BIG RED X seemed to symbolize a negation of my whole identity.

Teachers often seem to single out students who are different, bullying them just like kids. I’ve witnessed minority kids ridiculed. I’ve witnessed girls shamed. Schools are racist and sexist.

I saw these things as a student and as a teacher.

Of course, there’s the whole body shaming of girls.

I changed in a bathroom stall for PE in middle school and high school. I was skinny, but never had the desirable flat or toned abs. Someone once told me that my tummy wouldn’t be so noticeable if I had boobs. That didn’t help.

I also didn’t want to be singled out for having the highest grade in science when I was in 9th grade. I quietly asked the teacher to stop praising me in front of the class since I was getting teased by classmates. I was dumbing myself down to be popular. I didn’t do well in science after that year, perhaps on purpose or more likely, subconsciously.

Girls are silenced and shamed by boys, teachers, administrators, parents…and other girls.

Far from production as an ideal, it was consumption that had to be encouraged. School had to train in consumption habits: listening to others, moving on a bell or horn signal without questioning, becoming impressionable—more accurately, gullible—in order to do well on tests. Kids who insisted on producing their own lives had to be humiliated publicly as a warning to others.
Weapons of Mass Instruction by John Taylor Gatto

Shame in Church

The Christian church relies on shaming to keep members submissive.

Children are taught the sin model from parents, leaders, teachers, pastors.

There’s nowhere positive to go from there. What’s the point if you’re destined for a life of sin and eternal damnation? Different denominations teach different methods of salvation: say a little prayer, confess, flagellation, communion, accountability partners, fasting. Some preach that certain people are predestined, so it doesn’t matter what you do anyway.

It’s all outward appearance and makes us feel more ashamed for our failures, real or imagined.

At a Lent planning meeting at the church we used to attend, a deacon crossed my name off the children’s learning time and said she didn’t need me to do that. She acted like she was doing me a favor, releasing me from duty, but I know she just likes control and doing it all.

I felt like I was back in first grade, even if she didn’t use a red pen.

I’ve never gone back to a planning meeting nor am I really involved at all at church anymore.

We stopped going to church.

And they are both of them naked, the man and woman, and they are not ashamed of themselves. Genesis 2:25
Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves. Genesis 3:7
Why did Adam and Eve become aware of their nakedness only after they sinned?
Chabad

Shame Online

I’m glad we didn’t have social media until I was an adult. I don’t think I could’ve handled the cyber bullying and humiliation I see every day online.

We monitor the apps our daughters use closely. I really limit my social media time because it depresses me.

I’m glad we homeschool, so I don’t think we experience it as much, but my eldest was bullied a few years ago within our homeschool community and online and it was ugly.

Some people are just always itching for a fight and I don’t want to engage.

People hide behind their avatars, screens, keyboards…anonymous. It’s easier for them to spew their hatred at people who don’t share their views.

We like to be noticed, named, not forgotten or dismissed.

I try to be very careful how I speak to my children and spouse. Of course, I fail miserably very often, but I try to make amends.

I don’t want to humiliate, shame, or ridicule anyone. I know too well how that feels. Words can hurt.

When have you felt ashamed?

Helpful: Hamilton Anxiety Rating Scale for ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences)

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Stepping Stones

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June 3, 2019 By Jennifer Lambert 17 Comments

I don’t sugarcoat or make small talk.

I’m a straight shooter and people apparently find that intimidating.

I know who I am and what I want.

So…I struggle making friends.

I don’t have any.

Perhaps this is a season that will pass.

Maybe I’m just always on a stepping stone to somewhere else.

I’m always on the lookout for like-minded weirdos, but there always seems to be some hindrance to that.

We move around a lot.

Sometimes the hindrance is me.

I know I have issues.

But sometimes?

The hindrance is sometimes totally on someone else.

It’s important to be able to discern it.

Once you reach age 40, maybe you should have more of your shit together. You’ve had plenty of time and resources for self-loathing, therapy, grief, addiction recovery, getting to know yourself, parenting (even if you have to re-parent yourself), whatever you’ve dealt with. I’m really sorry about all of it, but I dealt with a lot of it too.

I understand your façade of a perfectionistic, yourwayorthehighway cold-hearted bitch hides your falling apart life, but I will not get into it with you over which hymn we should sing on Palm Sunday. It’s just not worth the argument. I will still smile and shake your hand during greeting time at church. And I like your boots.

I can overlook a lot, so much. I can smile and be friendly. But if you have severe unresolved personal issues? Then I don’t want to friend you on Facebook and have you stalk me online. I don’t want to have coffee or a meal with you. I don’t want to sit through a planning meeting with you. I don’t want to share responsibility on some committee with you. I don’t want my kids in a situation where you’re an authority figure over them.

“If you feel like you don’t fit into the world you inherited it is because you were born to help create a new one.” ~ Ross Caligiuri, Dreaming in the Shadows

These are things I realize:

A lot of people are lonely.

We live in a society where we’re all connected online, but we don’t know the name of our neighbors on our street. Coworkers are just acquaintances. The people we see in church each week are just a handshake.

We’re isolated by busyness. We make sure we don’t have time to slow down enough to think about our pain. Or joy. No one wants to feel emotions.

We don’t have any role models who show us how to be friends.

Our parents all worked full time and were busy too. Many of us are from broken homes. We were latchkey kids.

We were taught to fear and never trust others. Stranger danger! Don’t talk to people online!

That’s the only people I talk to!

We think stress, anxiety, depression are normal.

We try to hide our loneliness with stuff.

We constantly try to fill that hole with food, drugs, alcohol, shoes, scrapbooking, diets, throwing the kids into a gazillion after-school and weekend and summer break activities…

Friendliness is misconstrued as manipulation. We overthink it. Why are they smiling? Is something in my teeth? What do they want?

There’s a difference between loneliness and solitude and most people can’t handle healthy solitude. Or silence.

There’s a lot of unnecessary judgment.

Some judgment is healthy.

We need to judge the right moment to cross a busy street. We need to judge whether it’s cardi temperature or if we need a heavier jacket.

We need to discern right from wrong in many gray areas.

Judging others because of their clothing choices or their car or their Christmas decorations can hinder friendship. It’s silly.

Except the 25-foot Rudolph in the front yard across the street. That’s scary.

We’re all trying so hard to impress others with the wrong things for the wrong reasons that we miss out on so much.

It’s harder to understand tone and meaning online. Everything typed comes across as harsher, more sarcastic, cold.

Putting LOL or JK or an emoji after a mean, condescending, or judgy comment doesn’t make it better.

It’s still rude.

And we’re all so good not recognizing our own sins or hangups.

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. “Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye?How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. Matthew 7:1-5

What about toxicity?

We are called to judge immoral behavior within the church.

Let that sink in a moment.

We are not called to judge outsiders or unbelievers.

For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge? God judges those outside. 1 Corinthians 5:12-13

If you have a problem with someone, discuss it in love and in private.

Three strikes, you’re out though.

Don’t make room for toxicity in your life. I don’t have room or time for it.

“If your brother sins against you, go and rebuke him in private. If he listens to you, you have won your brother. But if he won’t listen, take one or two more with you, so that by the testimony of two or three witnesses every fact may be established. If he pays no attention to them, tell the church. But if he doesn’t pay attention even to the church, let him be like an unbeliever and a tax collector to you. Matthew 18:15-17

It’s hard to balance on that fence of healthy and unhealthy judgment.

Sometimes, we’re awkward.

I’m usually very awkward, especially around new people.

I kinda embrace my awkwardness now. My foot and mouth are intimately acquainted no matter how hard I try to be tactful. I’m just not graceful.

Lots of people have anxiety or awkwardness.

I try to discern whether someone is being really rude or if they’re just awkward. I really hate that whole “trying to have a conversation with someone and they’re constantly looking over your shoulder for someone else better.” That’s just rude.

Greeting time at church is a nightmare for me as an introvert. I avoid a lot of events with crowds or stick to being a wallflower.

I think it’s also true that we worry so much about what others think and they’re worrying so much about what others think that we’re not thinking about each other at all.

We all experience seasons.

Sometimes we’re more social or need to be alone or life circumstances bring us together or pull us apart.

People going through similar circumstances like to do that together.

I wouldn’t really know.

I never succeeded with pregnancy groups, MOPS, mom meetups, military wives clubs, or weight loss meetings.

I’m a leader.

I’m a teacher.

I’m a midnight thinker.

I have taught classes on single motherhood, finances, parenting, natural living, Sunday school.

I’m not a joiner.

I’m not a good student. Mostly because there are so few good teachers.

I don’t like meetings, lectures, or effing parties where I’m expected to buy jewelry, leggings, kitchen tools, sex toys, or essential oils.

It’s always been hard for me to fit in.

I guess we don’t fit a certain stereotype. We have 4 kids. We’re a military family. We homeschool. I’m liberal and progressive.

I cringe a lot when all people want to talk about are crappy TV shows or teen novels.

And I don’t do small talk.

small talk: polite conversation about unimportant or uncontroversial matters or any transactions ~wiki

We’ve all experienced suffering.

This can be an alienating situation or it can bring us together.

Maybe it’s a terminal illness.

Injury.

Surgery.

Chronic illness.

Disability.

Maybe the stress of having a special needs child.

Broken relationships.

Toxicity.

Infidelity.

Divorce.

Abuse. Assault. PTSD.

Addiction.

Abortion.

Suicide.

Mental illness.

Sexuality.

The list goes on and on.

And you know? What I’ve suffered is no worse to me than what you’ve suffered is to you.

It’s not a contest as to who has suffered more or worse.

We’re all in this together.

The church is a house for the broken. It is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints. ~Abigail Van Buren

People of faith are nurses, doctors, counselors…and patients – wherever they go.

With arms wide open.

It takes a lot of effort to be a real friend.

Sometimes the next stepping stone seems so far away.

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Advice to My Younger Self

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May 27, 2019 By Jennifer Lambert 9 Comments

I often wish someone had offered suggestions to us as a young family when we struggled for balance.

I didn’t have mentors at all. We knew we wanted a different lifestyle than our parents, peers, siblings, friends.

We didn’t know where to start to streamline our schedules and get the most bang for our buck.

We had to make our own way, lots of mistakes, and lean on each other for the last 14 years. We’re still learning!

It’s often so much newness that you don’t stop to think about the stress.

Finishing up college or grad school, getting married or moving in, new jobs, beginning or changing a career, having babies.

These are all wonderful, exciting things…but they’re also very high on the stress index.

We often don’t stop to realize how all these amazing opportunities and changes stress us out even though we think we’re happy.

It’s important to have a good support network, rely on and trust your spouse, and have a good foundation about your values, priorities, and needs.

I’m 43 now and looking back, I’ve learned a lot from life and…

I have some advice for my younger self.

I should have taken better care of me – my physical and mental health. It’s important and I’m paying the price now. Is this what a mid-life crisis look like?

No one really cares what you look like. Don’t worry so much about it. Wear what you want, what’s comfortable. Do whatever to your hair and makeup. Stretch marks and laugh lines are battle scars. Be yourself.

Speak up. No one knows what you’re feeling or thinking if you don’t tell them. Don’t play childish guessing games.

There is no us and them. We’re all in this together.

5 Areas to Address for Success:

1. Marriage

No name calling, ever.

The only time you should use the words “dummy” or “fool” is when you’re talking about puppets or pudding desserts, respectively. Focus on positive and nonviolent language, even when you’re angry.

Work together as a team.

It’s easy to get lazy and not be as courteous to our spouses as we should be. “Equality” means different things to different couples. Some do their own laundry separately or one cooks and the other does the dishes. If it works, then by all means, continue. But don’t be petty or waste time, money, and energy when it could be more helpful and efficient to work together or help each other out on something. Use gifts, talents, and interests well.

Communicate.

The 3 biggest issues in most marriages are sex, money, and parenting. Most disagreements, misconceptions, arguments, and misunderstandings involve one of these three topics.

Get over your embarrassments, inhibitions, issues, and baggage…and learn how to discuss your needs, desires, wants, and expectations about these things.

The marriage checklist listed in this article is a great place to fill in some gaps.

My favorite marriage book is John Gottman’s The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work.

2. Money

I don’t like the term “budget” because it’s so narrow and constricting. Most of us are a little flexible and don’t spend the exact same amount on categories each pay period. Using the term “spending plan” is much more accurate for most of us. We’re not disciplined enough to use cash envelopes each month for categories, but I hear it’s successful for some. I think most of us pay bills online and use our check cards for other purchases. Obviously, that requires keeping on top of purchases and receipts, and communicating with your partner.

I use an Excel spreadsheet to track our expenses each month.

If there are separate accounts, make sure to communicate about who is responsible for what. We have a separate account just for our rent and car payment. I have a separate account for all my writing, but it barely breaks even.

Know your income. Know the salary at your job. Make sure to getting what you’re owed. Check pay stubs and make corrections. Get the most income by adjusting withholding for taxes at places of employment. No need to lend that money to the government to get a big tax return. Most of us would rather have that little bit more each paycheck.

Insurance. Research the best options for your family’s needs. Everyone needs affordable health insurance. Shop around for the best auto and renters or homeowners insurance for your situation. And update as your frequently as your lifestyle changes.

Investments. As soon as possible, invest in Roth IRAs and max those babies out. We’re not even there yet. We’ve never been able to max them out. We do have 529s for our 4 kids. That’s a great way to help kids begin their adult lives debt-free, with no student loans!

Debt. List all debt and be honest with yourself. Student loans. Car payments. Child support and alimony. List minimum payments and due dates in order.

Food. This is often a HUGE expense and can be curtailed with some planning. See info about “meals” below.

Gas. This can be a big expense. The USA is a huge gas guzzling empire, and cars are everywhere. Most towns and cities aren’t built for bicycles or pedestrians. Public transportation is minimal and unreliable in most places. If possible, limit your family to one car and plan well – carpooling, limiting errands to 1 or 2 days a week, bicycling and walking more. It cuts down on expenses and pollution.

Miscellaneous. There’s always something, right? We have to be aware of regular expenses and plan for emergencies. Know when car tags are due and put that on your spreadsheet. Spring is a big time for our family’s birthdays. Autumn comes with new curriculum and school supplies and clothes. Summer camps and rec sports for kids can really add up. Holidays can often make for surprises. We don’t give greeting cards anymore and we limit gift-giving.

3. Meals

Prepping and planning. It took me years to develop a good system and I still sometimes struggle.

I try to limit waste and plan meals around store sales and coupons on shopping apps.

Sure, we get bored and have to mix it up sometimes.

We sometimes throw a plan out the window for holidays and celebrations.

We seldom eat out, which saves money. We make our food from scratch which is healthier and more satisfying for us. We don’t like a lot of processed, pre-packaged foods.

Shopping. I tend to shop weekly at Kroger and/or Walmart.

About once a month, I do a big haul at Costco and/or the commissary.

I price compare and keep track of where the better deals are.

I buy bacon, sausage, and cat litter at the commissary.

Cooking. Someone has to make dinner. Every day.

I feel it’s important to have dinner together as a family every night, if possible.

As the kids get older, they help so much with meals and it’s great for us to all to work together.

I often prep and my husband grills.

Occasionally, I serve the kids earlier and have a nicer meal and movie night with my husband.

4. House

Maintenance. Whether it’s an apartment, rental house, or you own your own home, regular maintenance is important. We’ve always rented homes, but we try to stay proactive and let the homeowner know when and if items need repair. We replace filters on time, we keep everything clean, and we maintain the yard and grounds regularly.

Decoration. We are frugal and simple with seasonal and regular home decor. It took me years to find a home style I feel comfortable with that isn’t overwhelming. I’m still evolving and since we move every few years, it allows for some fun updates.

Organization. Everything in its place. If you have to buy storage for your stuff, you have too much stuff. With four growing kids, we had so much stuff for so many years. As they grow and don’t need so much, it’s so refreshing to donate or sell items as they outgrow toys, clothes, and homeschool materials.

5. Children

Discipline. It’s important for spouses to be on the same page about how to raise children.

Chores. Kids really want to help, so let them.

Activities. Less is more. We’ve had seasons of overscheduling and find it’s better for each child to have one extracurricular activity at a time. We do family art lessons and each child has a seasonal or recreational sport.

Day care/Babysitting. Day care is just so expensive. We made a hard choice for me to stay home with the kids to save money and not outsource them to someone else to raise.

While we had a season when we hired babysitters so we could socialize, I regret that now that it didn’t really help our family grow personally or spiritually.

School. There are lots of options for education. Public, private, religious, charter, homeschool. Each has its pros and cons and your family has to make the tough decision how you want your kids educated. And it can even change from year to year, season to season, or with different kids.

We tried homeschooling and never looked back. It was an easy choice for us with moving around so frequently. It allowed so much more freedom for our family to travel and learn how we want.

Religion. Even if it’s not important or an issue for you and your spouse, kids will most likely bring this up at some point. It’s better to have a response in mind beforehand than to have to scramble and stumble with ill-conceived explanations. Know what you believe and why so you can explain, teach, and guide your kids. They will have questions. Don’t be embarrassed or shame them if you don’t know the answers. Find out together.

Setting Goals for the Future:

Sometimes, this is really hard and life throws really fast curveballs.

We’ve had our fair share of struggles and setbacks. We’ve lived through tragedies and adventures we never imagined or planned for and here we are, living to tell about it.

I often think about these things, dream about it, and set goals:

1 year

Where do I want to be a year from now?

Sometimes, we know we’re going to PCS and I make plans for our new location.

I research our homeschool activities and curriculum.

I consider our debt and finances and plan better.

My eldest is beginning college and will probably move into a dorm.

3 years

What dreams do I have for 3 years from now?

I consider what my kids will be doing in our homeschool.

My eldest might be finishing college and starting her career.

My middle girls will be high school age. What do I want that to look like?

5 years

What do we want 5 years from now?

We’re getting close to my husband’s retirement. Where do we want to live? What other job does he want?

My son will be our last child at home. What will his high school years look like?

How can I support my middle girls in their higher education?

What will our relationship look like with my eldest daughter?

10 years

What do I want our family to look like in 10 years?

What am I doing right now to ensure my kids are friends as adults?

How will we juggle relationships with four adult kids who might live all over the world?

How am I managing our finances for our future comfort?

How can I care for my aging parents?

It’s important to set goals and reevaluate your family’s needs at different life stages.

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Breaking the Cycle of Negativity

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May 13, 2019 By Jennifer Lambert 20 Comments

When I can’t offer grace to myself, I can’t offer grace to others.

I must overcome my hurts and negativity to allow my children to make their own decisions and become resilient.

I have authoritarian parents. I had no voice. I kept my opinions and emotions to myself. I was the poster child for “seen and not heard.” I was naturally quiet and observant.

I grew up in a time when I went to school and then played outside until the streetlights came on. During school breaks and summers, I played outside from sunup until sundown, grabbing lunch, snacks, and drinks at anyone’s house who would have me.

But I went through my childhood and youth in a fog.

Most of my memories are negative.

I remember punishments. I remember being snapped at, complained about, ridiculed, humiliated, smacked, switched, spanked, pushed, yelled at, and isolated in my room.

I remember being told I was worthless when my grades weren’t “good enough” because my “only job was to go to school.”

My interests in art, music, and literature were ridiculed as stupid and worthless towards a good career. I was told I should go to college for business or computers, which were not my interests at all.

I was always a disappointment.

The first few years of my marriage I had PTSD.

I lived in survival mode. I could barely cope with daily activities. Without constant reminders from my parents of how worthless and disappointing I was, I became self-destructive. My inner monologue reminded me all the time.

I couldn’t accept my husband’s affection. I couldn’t trust him (I still struggle).

It only exacerbated the situation that we moved out of state twice, I had to quit my job, began homeschooling my eldest daughter, both my husband’s parents suddenly passed away, and I gave birth to my middle two daughters during that time.

Living away from my parents forced me to confront my issues and seek healing.

It took me about 10 years to start to feel healthy.

My relationship with my parents is a rocky road.

My parents visited us in Utah, mid-May 2011, while my husband was deployed.

My son had just turned one. My middle girls were preschoolers. My eldest was the only one who even really knew my parents.

They stayed in a hotel nearby and graced us with their presence about lunchtime while disrupting our schedule and constantly telling my children to go play in the basement while they sat on the sofa to read the newspaper they brought with them.

I would sit awkwardly in a chair, not sure what to say or do. My heart broke for my children, who were confused.

I was torn between being a daughter and a mother.

It was a miserable few days until they had a tantrum and returned home early.

I received a handwritten letter in the mail a few days after that.

In the letter, my father told me what a horrible mother I was, that I should spank my terrible, ill-mannered children.

So he basically brutally criticized me for not parenting like him.

My kids are great kids. Their eating and resting schedule had been disrupted and they were confused by having virtual strangers in our house and they didn’t know what to expect. They were treated like burdens.

I still have that letter.

A few years later, we visited my parents before leaving for Germany. I figured since they’re in their 70s, I would regret not spending time with them if something happened while we were overseas.

We stayed with them for 11 stressful days.

One day, we went out to a local BBQ place for lunch. My husband ordered and paid for everything and I suggested to my mom and my kids to go find a booth to sit and wait. When we brought the food to the table, my mom literally snatched stuff and snapped at my eldest daughter to give her the food. She acted like a starving person. She acted so selfishly that my kids looked at me with wide, scared eyes, not knowing how to react or what to do. I look back and wonder if she thought she was getting out of the way so my kids could have the rest, but none of us saw it that way. We just do things so differently. We serve our kids first and then take the rest, if there is any. We would have bought more if it had not been enough.

I realize my mother suffers her own demons.

During that same week, my father had promised my son that he would take him to his barber for a haircut and they would have an afternoon out to themselves and maybe get ice cream. Well, my dad had a tantrum and left by himself without informing anyone and got his own haircut and was gone a really long time. It was so heartbreaking to see my son confused and hurt.

I realize my father suffers his own demons.

It was a peaceful time in Germany, for the most part. I read and grew and learned a lot about myself.

We stayed with my parents again for just a few days upon returning from Germany. It was a little bit better this time. We recently moved to Ohio.

My parents promised multiple times to help pay for my eldest daughter’s college education, but they lied and said they never promised that – even though my daughter, husband, and I all remember these promises. They said they would help, but when we told them the price of her tuition in September and December, they hemmed and hawed, then finally paid for both semesters – but after the due dates.

They always ask what we want for Christmas and birthdays.

Then they always say they can’t or won’t get those items for various reasons.

My mom sends seasonal boxes with dollar store items and cheap, generic toys that we often just donate to thrift stores.

A year ago, they didn’t send anything at all for Liz or Tori for Christmas.

My dad didn’t speak to me from October to February. He later admitted his feelings were hurt because he felt I only wanted money.

I’ve come a long way in my self-improvement, but this is all bullshit.

He complains all the time how they have no extra money.

Which I could accept if it were true. And no, things aren’t what’s most important.

But last year, they just bought a third car – a VW Bug Turbo and 2 brand new iPads.

Recently, my mom sent some money for summer camps for my kids and mentioned they’ve never supported me in educating the kids at home.

Wow.

It’s just always so confusing and I never know what to expect. I hate feeling like I’m always walking on eggshells. And everything they send always has strings attached.

I realize they parented me the best way they knew how.

I am trying to break generational curses.

My parents can treat me however they want, talk to me however they want…but they can’t hurt my children.

I will break this cycle.

I will be a better mom, a happier and healthier mom.

Ways My Negativity Can Hurt My Kids:

Control

Every aspect of my life was controlled.

I grew up and lived in fear until I was almost 30 years old.

I want my kids to feel free – to talk to me, to feel and express all emotions, have friends, learn how they want, go to college (or not) for what they want to study, eat what and when they like, etc.

Unforgiveness

My parents hold grudges.

Loving unconditionally is not something I ever knew. I had to unlearn and relearn so much.

I have to separate misbehavior, mistakes, unkindness from the person and address the situation without shaming.

Bitterness

My parents are gray with bitterness.

They have so much hate. They have so much anger.

I didn’t know rage and hate were different until a few years ago.

Do I want to be bitter or better?

What I Can Do Better:

Mindfulness

I think it’s important to be self-aware of what upsets me, my triggers – reactions to circumstances that may remind me of abuse or negative memories.

I need to recognize covert and overt narcissistic tendencies in myself, reactions that I learned. Some tendencies that I even see in my children.

I don’t want to perpetuate the cycle I grew up in, but apparently, I’ve inadvertently passed on things to my kids despite all my knowledge and attempts to be better.

There’s always work to be done.

Apology

It’s so important to recognize and address mistakes and when we misspeak. We practice sincere apology.

When I make mistakes, I apologize and ask forgiveness. I model this to my family.

Simplicity

We constantly reevaluate and simplify by minimizing and resting.

Things aren’t what’s most important. We have so many choices, so much material wealth. We can go to the store and purchase almost anything.

Credit cards are a poor option. We want to leave a better legacy for our kids.

Vulnerability

It’s important to me that we all feel safe in our emotions and the ability to discuss everything as a family.

But sometimes, they need privacy and I have to respect that.

While I want to be transparent, I also want to have healthy relationships with my kids and not burden them with adult problems.

It’s a constant balancing of realizing they’re maturing, growing, and learning. I have to adapt to their needs and our changing relationship.

How do you break the cycle?

Helpful: Hamilton Anxiety Rating Scale for ACEs (Adverse Childhood Experiences)

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Discouraged

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October 30, 2018 By Jennifer Lambert Leave a Comment

I can’t stop my tears this week.

It’s October but I feel like it’s February in my soul.

It’s been a busy week. I finally made it to grocery store at dinnertime on a Saturday night. Completely out of milk and bread. This is the epitome of domestic bliss, right? Saturday night grocery shopping, alone.

They’ve rearranged and updated the store over the last month or so. I still can’t find anything and I used to have the store memorized and my list according to aisle. I wandered around the store three times before I found the bread aisle. I was hungry and exhausted and I needed to get home to make dinner.

I cried in the bread aisle at Kroger, y’all.

No witnesses.

They’ve been out of our favorite brand of bread for over two weeks, at multiple stores. There was a preschooler having a four alarm full-blown on the floor tantrum an aisle over that echoed throughout the store, and I felt a spirit bond with her.

It was like the final straw for me this week. I just lost it in the face of so much hate, evil, and sorrow happening in the world, in our country, in our cities, in our churches. It’s overwhelming at times.

I feel so useless just going through the motions of mothering, homeschooling, housework, taxi service to the kids. Barely blogging, working just a little from home, trying to help with little tidbits where I can. Finding projects that I can do. Cutting costs, trying to save wherever to pay off debts more quickly.

My eldest just turned eighteen years old. So much potential and the scary world all wide open before her. She’s more mature, capable, honest, and confident than I was…like a year ago.

What have I done? What do I have to show for eighteen years?

I want to do so much more.

Earlier, I cried when my middle daughter carved her brother’s jack o’lantern. I am ashamed that I didn’t, couldn’t. She is an artist and oh, so capable. She runs circles around me with her abilities and energy and strength.

Today, I cried when my son dusted the entire house because he saw it needed it. They canceled his last baseball game of the season due to bad weather. His always cheerful attitude slays me. I’m more disappointed than he will ever be.

My youngest daughter’s drawing artwork chokes me up with her talent and abilities. What will she do in the future? She is fearless.

My children are better than I am.

And that’s how it should be, what I want for them.

I’ve cried every day recently, multiple times a day, about what I see in the news and on social media – the fear, hatred, evil, sorrow…but also so much kindness, joy, hope, love.

Let us love. Let us be kind.

May we have hope.

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