Category Archives: Daughter

3.0

Daughter, Hair, Hair Bugs, Learning, Motherhood, Perspective Shift

When I first started this blog, it was an outlet to help me cope with the newness of my divorce and the many challenges that followed. One challenge included a surprise case of head lice. Fast forward 4 years and we’ve come a long way. However, my daughter’s head is apparently still a hot spot for critters. When my 13 year old daughter started itching her head a lot on vacation a few weeks ago, the first thing I did was check her head and neck for nits and bugs.

I saw nothing of concern. However, my vision is… horrible. She kept claiming her head was just oily, or dry, or this, or that . I checked her head again at least twice more, even used a lice comb. I almost went to get lice shampoo because I couldn’t understand what else it could be. She swore up and down that it had nothing to do with bugs. She said she had combed her head for them too. She’s 13 and takes care of herself way better these days, so I had no real reason not to believe her.

We got home from vacation, and two weeks later she was still itching. I took her to the doctor because I’m beyond confused at this point. And low and behold: he points out nits. Hello hair bugs 3.0. We were both horrified and confused all at the same time. How had I checked her multiple times and missed this?

We both knew what to do. I started mentally preparing myself for the long haul of weeks of combing. The doctor knew the enormity of this task as he surveyed her beautiful, thick mane of hair, and he quickly called in a double prescription of “the” shampoo.

I dropped her off at home and went to get the prescription. My son was instructed to stay in his own area, I fed him, and let him play on his tablet. He was fine. My daughter started stripping bedsheets and doing laundry as she prepared her mind for the long haul as well.

To my surprise, she didn’t want me to help comb her hair. I gave her some instructions about the shampoo, she asked a few questions, and went to work while I cleaned the house. There was an unspoken team effort. I checked my head and her brother’s head, and by some miracle from the God-Sent Sanity Fairy, we were good. I have checked our heads regularly every night since. I put sheets on all of the couches and assigned seats for the next few weeks. Everyone agreed, and we’ve been living in harmony for the past week.

All is stabilizing, but I’m still on edge.

I kept thinking “where did I go wrong? why did I let my guard down? I know better, I know better…” My past came back to haunt me, and it occurred to me that I was beating myself up for something that could happen to anyone. I was looking for someone (me or another) to blame to make sense of it all.

I wanted to cry, but all I could think was “this too shall pass.” Because it will. We’ve been through it before, we’ll get through it again. And this time I was let off the hook from combing, so I’m thankful for that. I’m so very proud of my girl.

After she got done combing out her hair that first night, she calmly came to me and said “How did you do that when I was little, mom? How did you comb my hair out for me for weeks the two different times that I had it?” And I simply shrugged and said “Who else was going to do it? I did it because it had to be done.” And she gave me air hugs from across the room.

I’ve been looking for the lesson in all of this. From challenges come great lessons. And I think this lesson was more for my daughter than for myself. I have learned, I have grown, I have tried to pass on my knowledge, but some things she must learn on her own no matter how many times I try to tell her or show her. That thought made me sad. I can only help her to a point. All I can do is be her support system.

This too shall pass.

Stifle Me Not

Seeing Clearly (Sucks)

Change, Daughter, Healing, Honesty, Hope, Perspective Shift

Yesterday was an interesting day. It was a tiring but very necessary day. It was my daughter’s birthday – that should have been the main event. What I didn’t expect was the ending to the day. My daughter sat on the couch with me that evening and began venting. She does this often, but she’s usually ranting about her friends or teachers or something she wants to buy. But this time, it was about her father.

Let me back up to provide better context. Ever since I found out that my ex-husband was, in fact, a certified covert narcissist and lying manipulative cheater, I have not shared any of the fun facts about the divorce with my children. Anything has been on a need-to-know basis. For many reasons, but mostly because 1) they’re too young and it isn’t appropriate, 2) they still very much needed a father to parent them, and 3) my parents shared entirely too much information during their divorce and it just wasn’t necessary.

I’ve never lied to my kids, but I haven’t given them a bunch of unnecessary details either. They know I’m not a fan of their dad, but I always tell them he loves them and focus on shared parenting as much as possible. As my daughter has gotten older, she regularly asks me “Why did you and daddy really break up?” I tell her she’ll understand by the time she’s in her 30s. I believe she even thought I was at fault for breaking up the family at one point, and she’s challenged me numerous times about being the reason for all of the upheaval in her life.

I guess her dad recently told her his version and actually confessed to being a cheater. I’m not stupid enough to think he truly owned it, I’m sure I was made out to be a villian in some way. Ever since then, she seemed to observe him more closely. One day she told me she knew why we split, but I still kept quiet. No point in rehashing the past or adding fuel to a fire that is already out in my mind. She didn’t seem mad at him, but I’ve noticed that she picks up on many more of his personality traits and habits lately. She is observant anyhow, but this new fact has her very fixated on his behavior lately. It started out with her noticing small things he does or says. Until last night when it all snowballed into one big realization that her dad is not the person she has idealized her whole life.

I didn’t say too much, except to acknowledge that I understood what she was referring to when she described the situation she was frustrated about. She was telling me about how he was responding to (aka manipulating) her opinion about something. As she was talking, it’s like I was forced back through a time warp when I was with him and he had me doubting and questioning my reality over and over and over. It was a personal hell of mine, to have to do that on a daily basis to the point of detaching myself from my own reality just to survive. It is not a place I want to go back to, nor do I want her to live in that world.

My daughter was experiencing the madness of communicating with her narcistic father. I always wondered if it was just me, or if he would end up treating the kids similarly to me. I guess I got my answer. My daughter sees it for what it is right now, because she’s 13. At 13, you see things clearly. It may be confusing but she’s seeing it play out in real time – It’s not too late for her yet. I will calmly support her without aggravating the situation to the best of my ability. The good news is she has already been talking to a counselor regularly, and said she wants to talk to the counselor about her father. I am hopeful that she will not relive the past I went through with her father. I really hope she can have a relationship with him and not be manipulated by him. I don’t know. It worries me, but I’m confident in her.

It really sucks to find out that a parent is not who you thought they were.

After a lot of venting and some tears, my sweet daughter fell asleep on my lap as I pet her hair. She laid there peacefully for about 15 minutes and then hugged me and went to bed. I was so proud of her for owning her feelings, facing her doubts, and being honest about her realization.

And I have never felt so validated in my life. It’s taken almost a decade, and last night was the first time I could breathe in a long time. More challenges always await, but I can see so much clearly now.

Stifle Me Not

13 Again

Change, Daughter, Honesty, Learning

My daughter turns 13 today. I remember 13 so well. It was fun and traumatizing all at the same time. As a teenager, you view the world honestly – you see what’s happening for what it is. Maybe that’s the “traumatizing” part. You haven’t learned to sugar coat anything yet. It all is…what it is. It’s a small period of time in the grand scheme of things in between the joys of being a child and the harsh reality of being an adult. Teenagers get a bad rap for being negative or weird. The truth is, they’re just being honest and expressing themselves. And as adults, we’ve somehow become accustomed to masking life with a rose-colored glasses. We call it things like emotional intelligence (of which I’m both a fan and a hater – that’s a whole other post).

Teenagers use their emotions to express themselves – whether good, bad, or indifferent. In your teens, you learn how to cope with people. You learn what you can handle and what you can’t. You determine how to navigate certain situations – what works and what doesn’t. And so it begins — you form the patterns and habits that “help” you and carry those mechanisms with you into adulthood.

I’m watching my daughter now and it’s so interesting to see her patterns. She’s very honest with herself. When she’s uncomfortable, she hides in her room and confides in her friends. She comes out when she’s ready. When she’s feeling happy and free, she gets loud and silly. She goes with the flow of her feelings. She can be chatty or sulky – it just is what it is and she’s okay with it. She is as authentic as she’ll ever be. It’s how I used to be.

After getting divorced and moving back to my hometown, I started to do what I wanted to do with my life – in my career, my daily tasks, my hobbies, and how I expressed myself. I started to feel like me again. I didn’t have this overwhelming cloud of doubt over my head anymore – I was just being me. I remember saying to one of my friends that I felt like I was getting back to my old self, “like I was 13 again”. I didn’t put much thought into that statement at the time, but now that I have a daughter that age, it’s very eye-opening.

When I was 13, I used to feel my feelings and let them guide me. I didn’t care if someone else didn’t like what I was feeling – I didn’t even think about that. I just felt my feelings and dealt with them and managed my way through each day. Then I got into my 20s and 30s and let other people’s motives override my true feelings. And I learned the worst habit of all — I learned to “adjust” to others. I adjusted, they didn’t. And so that was my demise. I see this as a pattern in others as well and I want to smack them silly and scream “Go back to being 13-year old you!”

I know she will be okay. She is a wonderful person at 13 right now. I hope she can hang on to her authenticity more than I did. If she ends up back at her 13 year old self in 30 years, she will be so lucky.

Stifle Me (Her) Not

Coffee?

Dating, Daughter, Grocery shopping, Rejection, Son

One day, just days after breaking up with 3-month boyfriend, I went grocery shopping. This wasn’t any shopping trip. This was a grocery shopping trip with my beloved children whom I had already taken back-to-school shopping earlier in the day. I usually never take them with me to get groceries. I time it so they are with their father when I go, or I’ll order groceries online and pick them up. The stress of ensuring they are alive at the end of a shopping trip and managing to get everything I need is just too much.

My daughter is a quiet, but needy 12-year old. Upon entering any store, she suddenly has every “need” imaginable – from special foods and drinks to expensive beauty products… it is exhausting and mind-numbing to process each request. My 6-year old son always has a lot of energy and is usually talkative, but for some reason walking into a store turns him into a wild animal. He turns into a literal high-powered testosterone-filled superhero that suddenly wants to touch everything imaginable and run through the aisles at a high speed.

It was a Sunday evening and we had just visited grandma and grandpa. On the way home I was passing the store, and I realized we had no decent meals for the week. If my kids don’t eat well most of a week, well, there are always consequences, a whole other story. So against my better judgement, after a long day of being out and about already, I decided to go in.

We barely get through the produce section, and I’m already regretting my decision. I’m trying to calm my nerves as my son darts around people’s shopping carts and I dodge my daughter’s never-ending list of preteen demands. I was already exhausted and just wanting to get through the mental list I had for the week.

I noticed two things. The store wasn’t too busy (for that I was thankful) and I also noticed that there were a lot of single men shopping with their baskets. I admit the thought crossed my mind that this would be a place to scope out a single dad. To be clear, scope out, not ask out.

You know how you can end up with the same people as you make your way through a store, and then you end up at the check-out with the same people? That was me, and I was getting in all these people’s ways as I rushed through the trip, because I was in multi-tasking mom mode.

Fast forward, I’m in the meat section. I’m trying to pick out some beef tips (of all things in the whole store, beef tips). My daughter is right next to me saying something I don’t comprehend, (because 12 year olds mumble, a lot). As I turn around, my son is in my peripheral vision jumping around, my daughter is right by my face mumbling, and a guy I don’t know is right behind me saying (in what feels like slow motion) “Excuse me…would you like to go to coffee sometime?”

Uhhhhh… WTF?

I make eye contact. I am stunned. My daughter squeals and runs away down the snack aisle with her brother (bro thinks its a game). I am out in the open, in front of other people, in the beef section, getting asked out by a guy who maybe, just maybe, watched too many RomComs recently. I knew my answer, but all I could immediately think was I just broke up with my boyfriend, how did he know? Do I have an “I’m newly single” sign on my forehead?

I’m not married so of course I don’t wear a wedding ring, but my kids were with me, I was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, and I was not making flirty eyes with anyone. If anything, my head was down and I was just getting through it, man, I was in survival mode. What possessed this poor guy to ask me that question? And in the meat section of the supermarket?

This guy was on the short side (nothing against shorter guys! My personal preference is just taller), he had a head full of messy dirty-brownish hair, and a big messy beard. I couldn’t tell how old he was because he was covered in hair – maybe 35, but he could’ve been up to 45. I couldn’t even tell if he was attractive because of all the hair, and I was too shocked by it all.

I just blurted out “Ohhh thank youuuuu… but no thank youuuu.” And I smiled nervously as he bolted. I mean the dude whipped his cart around and bolted like lightening down the closest aisle toward the check out area. I stood there grinning sheepishly as my daughter bounced back to me, laughing hysterically and texting her friends that her mom just got hit on in the meat section. My son was laughing too, but he didn’t know what was going on, he just thought were were all having a great time.

I made it through the rest of the supermarket, trying to remember what else I needed. I was equal parts flattered and horrified. My daughter said “Mama, you got game!” Haha, sure kid.

Life is so weird. I’ve been considering my next move (if there is one) in the dating world. Online dating is frightening, but I’m not sure having a complete stranger walk up to you in public to ask you out (before asking for your name) is much better. It’s not like we even had a run-in and joked about broccoli first. It was just bam, wanna go out?

I’m trying to keep an open mind about it all. Bless his brave heart for trying. I hope he finds the girl of his dreams soon. For now, it’ll just be me, myself, and my own coffee.

Stifle Me Not

May 22nd Lesson: It’s Not All About Me

Daughter, Learning, Motherhood, Separation, Son

Two nights ago my daughter wanted to talk. Said she felt sad. She’s sad her dad isn’t around every day and night. And I’m sad for her too. Last night, she wanted to talk again. Tears this time. Her dad was around for a couple of hours and then he left. She wished he could stay longer. I’m sad too – for all of us.

Tonight she wanted to talk again. Full blown tears. She’s worried about when we move, she won’t have any friends, she misses her dad, she doesn’t want me to get remarried (even though I’m not dating anyone openly or secretly), and she thinks that I’ll spend more time worrying about her brother than her.

This is harder on her little brain than I realized. Her brain is on overload.

I reassured her that her dad and I will handle the adult stuff and she doesn’t have to worry. I asked her to trust us and we’ll keep her involved and make the best decisions for her and her brother. I could see the weight lifting off of her little shoulders and the anxiety softening from her big blue watery eyes.

This is hard. If I thought there was a chance in hell that he would be a better partner for me, I’d let him back in the door so that this burden wasn’t part of my kids’ lives. All I know for sure is that I don’t hate my parents for getting divorced. I love them the same. And I’m grateful for the new wonderful people that they each ended up marrying. I know my daughter can’t see that now, but she will. I know she will be okay.

She asked me if I cry when she goes to bed. Oh, if she only knew. I just said that I did sometimes. She’s only nine, but she has such an old soul.

My little girl – I want to shield her from everything, but if I do, then she won’t learn from it. She won’t grow from it. I know she has to learn to deal with change and feelings – the good ones and the bad ones. I will help her through it the best I know how.

Today I learned that this new normal is harder on my children than I realized, and it makes me so very sad that it’s not all about me. It would be so much easier if it was.

Stifle Me Not

May 18th Lesson: Unclogging Drains in Now My Job (gag)

Daughter, Hair, Separation

I had an entire other post written earlier, and I hadn’t published it yet, and then I showered. Yes, I showered, and the water rose up over my feet and my arch nemesis was back – a clogged drain (gag).

And so this is similar to my experience with mowing lawns in the last 10 years. I just don’t. Except in the last seven months, I’ve been forced to fight back my gag reflex and unclog that shit.

My daughter and I have longish thick brown hair. I’m half Italian. So she’s at least a quarter Italian. Clogged drains are a common occurrence in this household.

Oh my god it makes me gag. I hate it so much.

To top it all off, neither of us girls have had our hair trimmed in six months, so its longer than usual. And we’ve been hair-washing more than usual because of the damn Head Bugs Epidemic 2.0 (finally thank you baby Jesus that’s over).

Anyhow, in the past, when there’s a first sign of a clog, this is what would normally happen:

  1. I would almost cry because I HATE knowing that the water covering my feet in the shower is because of clogged hair (So effing gross – yes, I know it’s my hair but still soooo gross)
  2. I would tell my now-almost-ex-husband that the drain is clogged
  3. I would take a few more days of showers (repeat as needed) silently cursing my now-almost-ex-husband for not immediately unclogging the drain
  4. I would nag my now-almost-ex-husband to PLEASE unclog the drain (repeat as needed)
  5. Almost-ex-husband would unclog the drain in seconds, and dump some Drano down that biotch
  6. My next shower would be heaven with no water covering my feet

Tonight was the first night I noticed the drain was clogging. That’s a lie, I noticed it yesterday and hoped it would go away, but it didn’t. When I got out of the shower tonight, I got dressed and immediately unclogged that drain (gagging the entire time) and dumped the Drano.

How easy was that? Now why haven’t I just been doing that all along? It would have saved me steps 2 – 6 above.

From now on, I rely on me (unless my upper body strength is absolutely no match, and then I will suck it up and ask for help). I better start lifting weights.

Today I learned that I can rely on me so much faster than anyone else. I can handle almost anything, even if I’m gagging (as long as there’s no blood, I don’t do blood).

Stifle Me Not

May 15th Lesson: Quality Time is So Worth It

Daughter, Motherhood, Play, Unemployment

Today I learned that my daughter likes hanging out with me! Her brother was out with their dad. I picked her up from school and the first thing she said was “What do you want to do with me?”

Huh?

When I’m working I don’t hang out with my kids much. I see them, but I don’t usually have time to play. We spend time together, but not quality time. It’s more like rush rush out the door in the morning, and then in the afternoon it’s pick-up from school, hurry up to get dinner, maybe spend some TV together, but then it’s quickly bath and bed time. And on the weekends, that’s when I catch up on housework and catch my breath from the rat race of the week.

Today, she wanted quality time with mom. Okay then. So we played a little game of Scrabble. I beat her, but she didn’t care. Her mom played a game with her and that’s all she wanted. It was fun. I need to actually spend more play time with my kids. They are cool little humans.

Stifle Me Not

 

May 14th Lesson: The Magical Oil that Brought Peace of Mind

Daughter, Hair Bugs, Hugs, Positive Attitude

I have been combing through my daughter’s hair for exactly one month now since discovering Head Bug Epidemic 2.0. As of tonight’s combing session, I’m confident that she is bug and nit-free. I was fairly sure all was fine about a week ago, but those creepy little bugs (and the mess they leave behind) instill the utmost paranoia and anxiety in me. So I overdue the number of weeks of combing.

They seriously make me crazy and make me cry. I’m pretty sure I cried the first full week. The actual bug itself is creepy, but I don’t usually cry over bugs alone. It is the amount of work it takes with combing and preventing re-infestation that really makes me cry.

This time I discovered a new natural oil, Neem oil. It repels them AND it kills them. It is a such a stinky oil, but I swear it works. I read about it online and ordered some on Amazon. Peace of mind is everything.  The Neem oil really helped with that – and my gosh the smell alone was a reminder that it was working to repel anything that may want to live on our heads. It really does smell awful.

I could go into the whole story about Head Bug Epidemic 2.0, but I really just want to leave it in the past right now. I do have some tips for dealing with it that I’ll share in a later post. For now, I just want to give my daughter big hugs and continue to repel any unwanted head visitors going forward.

What’s my biggest lesson of the day (and the entire month)? Use Neem oil regularly to keep that crap away from our hair. We had some stinky hair, but it sure was soft! I will always keep a stash of that oil in our house.

Stifle Me Not

May 6th Lesson: Quality Time is Irreplaceable

Daughter

About 2 years (or more maybe) ago my mom bought my daughter this make-it-yourself decorative stepping stone. My daughter has asked me to make this thing a million and one times since she got it. It has been collecting dust in the back sun room for entirely too long. Each spring, when I clean out the sun room, she is hopeful that I’ll help her with it. It’s a cement mixture that you pour into a mold and then decorate with multi-colored glass pieces. It takes about 48 hours to dry. Each time she has asked, I read the directions and then I say it will take too long, or it’s too messy, or the weather isn’t right outside, or I’m tired.

Today she asked, staring at me with hopeful but doubtful eyes. I had no good reason not to help her make the stepping stone. In fact, once we got started, it was really fun. Her brother went down for a nap and so it was just her and me decorating the cement mold and chatting. She even told me she really likes to do crafty things with me.

I was happy and sad all at the same time. She doesn’t need much, just a little bit of quality mama time. Today I learned that I need to spend more quality time with her. I’ve been a “working” mom for so long that I never realized how much time I haven’t spent with her. Eating dinner together or sitting in the living room on our devices does not count. When she looks back at her childhood, I want her to remember moments like today with me and not just me nagging her to put away her clothes.

I’m grateful for this day and for this valuable lesson.

Stifle Me Not