Back in April, I mentioned I was trying a new plan for Mother’s Day. I told my family ahead of time what I wanted, and then tried not to feel guilty for asking.
My family delivered. A big part of my plan was not being responsible for preparing meals on Mother’s Day. I honestly can’t remember what we ate that day. Which is fine. Because whatever it was, I had nothing to do with it.
My family actually OVER-delivered, because they willingly let me get more family photos of them than they have in a very long time. We spent time outside together. It was relaxing. There wasn’t a lot of pressure.
It was just what I wanted.
When I was pregnant with Seven, I went to the chiropractor regularly. It started before he was born.
I have a lot of responsibilities. Some might say, more responsibilities than I am capable of keeping up with. So in order to get a break, sometimes my body just quits working. This can look like a head cold, a stomach bug, or a sudden, unexpected nap. In this case, I tried to lift my head off of my pillow one Monday morning and it felt like something in my neck had snapped.
The TLDR? Don’t take your journey when you’re stressed or in crisis.
When I heard about the Enneagram from a friend, I liked the idea right away. Like many people, I suspect, I like taking quizzes that tell me more about who I am. Even better if there are details, things I can really resonate with, and in this case, a compassionate narrative to walk alongside as you (re)discover your strengths and weaknesses.
The time my mom put my pigtails in too tight. That is to say, the scalp sensitivity referenced below may be of a genetic nature.
There are some things you can only learn by living them.
Black Hair is something I am beginning to understand. I first had a glimmer of understanding in college, watching a comedy where Caucasian girls were disparaged for flipping their hair around. As a Caucasian girl, when I did have hair, I always liked the way it flopped around, especially when I was running and had it in a ponytail. But it also always bothered me when other girls with my hair type were really obvious about their personal grooming or touching and flipping their hair around in public. In the movie, it was portrayed as something annoying because it is something Black hair just doesn’t do.
This year, my middle daughter is in her third year of competition dance. For each of her three classes, she has a different costume, makeup, tights, shoes, and a hairstyle. For ballet, that usually means a bun, and after I finally looked up how to do it on YouTube, I’ve had good results. It’s super satisfying to take a couple of my oldest son’s worn out (and laundered) black socks, cut the toes off, and roll them into a fat donut that makes my daughter’s bun look thick and round.
When you come in to work a shift at the hospital, you always know who the senior nurse in the room is. It’s the person who has worked on the floor the longest – the person who’s the most experienced. You identify that person early on so if things go south, you’ll know who to look to.
It’s the person you want to ask if you have a question or a problem to solve. It’s the person who will offer to pass meds on one of your patients if you’re having a crazy night. Someone who will get up and just start helping you before you even ask.
Last night, that was me.
