I Need a Re-Do

We just got back from a vacation to Hawaii--just Liam, Adi, Todd and myself.  We left Matt in the hands of a very capable sitter and went off for some uncomplicated time coupled with a dental meeting.  We had all been anticipating this vacation for a long time--we "gifted" it to the kids for Christmas and they were beyond excited.  By the time the trip came round, I felt my mind and body literally aching for a break--I was thrashed and Todd felt the same way.  We needed this time.

After all of the planning and logistics were set aside, particularly related to Matt, and all my tears at leaving him behind had been shed, I fully expected myself to be able to just let go and relax--enjoy my kids for the first time in a long time because there were no schedules to fight over, no chores to debate, no responsibilities to juggle....and no Matt which brings with it its own set of complications ridden with Mamma guilt.  So I was anticipating simple, uncomplicated, love-filled family time.  We even set up a "system" to help prevent fighting--kind of a "three-strikes" system with a horrible punishment attached to it (which worked, by the way).

As we were leaving, I had a chat with Liam and Adi to "frame" what I needed from them--I told them this was intended to be a vacation for us (the parents) as well and we needed them to not be....well...needy.  We needed them to be cooperative, to listen, to not argue, and to take care of themselves a little (i.e. be responsible for your own crap).

It didn't take me long to realize that every pre-framing conversation, every attempt to create this beautiful, relaxing experience that I pictured, was completely in vain.  This vacation was destined to be something other than what I pictured in my head.  Now, here's the problem....rather than embrace what it was going to be, I was irritated beyond belief that it was not what I had envisioned.  Here is the un-edited version of how it felt.

The kids didn't fight, but they literally did not stop making noise.  If they weren't talking and wanting a response, they were singing--making up songs and singing them so loudly.  They went so far as to make the most annoying sounds they could come up with--goat noises and other animals.  I think their ears may have gone on vacation because it took them forever to get moving every day--I felt like I had to leave the room to get them to panic and follow.  I couldn't do anything without an appendage, including shower--every shower I took was with Adi.  I couldn't go potty by myself because she always wanted to be in the stall with me and wouldn't go into her own.  When we would go to bed and wake up, it was with them...which is introvert hell.  Zero time to myself.

All of this is TOTALLY NORMAL kid stuff, but I could not no feel frustrated.  The more the week progressed, the more annoyed I was.  The more annoyed I was, the less fun I was.  The less fun I was, the worse I felt.  The worse I felt, the more irritated I was with them.  Here's the irony--I would tell them this--"guys, I really want to be fun Mom, but it is so hard when I feel like you are ignoring me. Can we work on being better listeners?"  And other equally in-vain requests.  Again, very normal kids.  But when they didn't magically transform into unicorn children, I would get more and more mad at myself for not being more flexible, for not being able to let the annoying things go.  The voices in my head were getting louder and louder...."you are so selfish because all you can think about is time by yourself when you are here for family time" or "you have amazing children that are capable of amazing things who just want to have an amazing time and you are getting in the way of that" or "you are letting your kids down by not being more fun! You can't even be fun in Hawaii!  That's pathetic" or "you are going to regret not just treasuring this time.  Why can't you live in the moment and let go a little?" or "what kind not a horrible human being gets upset with their children for not meeting expectations that are unrealistic because I want to have more peace and quiet?" or "your husband is not going to enjoy being with you at all if you keep being this crusty, lame human being."  Those voices were SO LOUD that I literally could not even think straight, much less enjoy myself.

Fortunately, there were days that were better than others, but I honestly felt a little depressed most of the time.  It was hard to be loving toward any member of my family, including my husband that I started to resent because he was so capable of being everything I wanted to--fun, relaxed, exciting, full of energy, playing, loving, and fully enjoying himself.  When he went to his dental meetings, I stepped it up a little so the kids weren't forced to wallow with me in self-pity and martyrdom at least. Here's the beauty though--they forgave me every time I apologized and still wanted me and my attention even when I was crusty five seconds before.  They continued to be oblivious to this internal turmoil and had a wonderful time. They won't remember for a second the moments where I sucked as a Mom and rather came home thanking us over and over for such an amazing trip.

So I went on a run this morning and purposefully didn't take music or a book to listen to.  I just thought.  And while thinking, realized something I did wrong.  I listened to the voices.  I would entertain them, agree with them, nod in response to their biting commentary and let them become statements about my worth.  And then I would look to my kids to validate me, asking them to fix their behavior because that was where the problem was...or at least if I could think that, it would somehow justify my selfishness and lameness. Rather, what I needed to do was replace those thoughts.  Just like you can't will a habit to change (you have to replace it with a new behavior), you can't will thoughts out of your head....you have to replace them with new ones.  It was almost like I needed to take those thoughts out, stare at them a little, examine them for credibility, change where I needed to and replace the thought all together with a new, better thought that motivated me to change verses wallow in self-pity.  For example, the "I'm selfish because all I can think about is time to myself" thought could have been replaced by a kinder "you are exhausted because you work very hard.  It is totally appropriate to ask how we could possibly carve out some time so that you can rejuvenate during this trip as well."  Or the thought about letting my kids down because I'm not more fun could be replaced with thoughts of what I do well.  I don't naturally do "fun" well and compare myself to Todd and other Mom's who are so good at it.  And when I DO play with them and AM fun, give myself credit!  Rejoice in the moment that was fun!  Or the thoughts about being a horrible human being for wanting peace and quiet could be changed to "kids will be kids!" rather than a commentary about my horribleness.

Once I realized this, I spent the rest of the run doing what I do best--planning.  I plan to do better at being nice to myself in my mind.  I can still envision the Mom that I want to be and one of the adjectives used to describe her IS fun....but rather than comparing myself and focusing on the gap (how far I am from that person), I will focus on the progress (how I'm getting closer to becoming her).  Rather than focusing on what I am not doing well (and where I literally feel like I am failing), I need to focus on what I am doing well and give myself credit for the victories. Because I am naturally a positive person, some of these feelings are really foreign to me--these voices aren't usually so loud!  I think listening to them gives them power.  But just like light and darkness cannot co-exist, the voices cannot stick around if you replace them, in a very intentional way and after looking at them for a moment, with the truth.  Those voices lie sometimes.  We have to look at them closely enough to decide what element of truth exists in them so that we are working at becoming better, but then we need to kick them to the curb and replace them with what we KNOW we are and what we are capable of.