Hide & Seek has never been one of my favorite games. Even as a child I never felt like I could find a good enough place to hide. When I was found, I felt like I didn't hide well enough; and if I wasn't found, I had that little moment of all kinds of panic: "What if they ditched me? What if they forgot me?" And seeking? Forget it. So imagine my chagrin when my kids ask me to play Hide & Seek. As an adult, there are even fewer hiding places I can squeeze in to.
Today was my scheduled appointment with my counselor, and with a couple of sessions under my belt, I half expected to be wiped out afterwards. My counselor and I are a good match, and I'm covering all sorts of ground. The drive home aways finds me enlightened and exhausted. On the other hand, since I've been feeling very level since our last session, I thought today's session might be a cake walk. It's really up to me: what do I want to explore.
What I got around to today was my insecurities as a mom; and trust me, I've got a lot of 'em (insecurities, not moms). When you get down to it, my worries stem from one theme: I worry that our kids will grow up and move away, leaving me alone and lonely. (Yes, I know this sounds crazy coming from the same person who occasionally considers running away to a remote northern island free of children's demands. Even as I write I have a wee helper.)
Why would my children move away? Well, with luck and love, our kids will move on to fulfilling lives of their own, which may or may not happen in northeast Ohio.
Why would my children leave me alone and lonely? If I hurt my kids emotionally, they might not want to be around me. I have visions of lying alone and forgotten in a nursing home.
Why would I hurt my children emotionally? Not intentionally, of course. But what about all those unintentional times I hurt them?
"Mom, will you play with me?" "Not now."
"Mom can I have...?" "No, we don't always get what we want."
"THIS is dinner? Blech." "Just eat it, it's good for you."
What about those times I lose my temper and become snappish or sarcastic? What about the bad example I set when I don't do my own chores yet expect my kids to complete theirs?
My counselor and I spoke for a good hour, which somewhat surprised me since I didn't think we'd have much at all to talk about. Then again, earlier this week when I saw my daughter's final elementary school Halloween parade, I knew I was grieving inside and needed to find a way to cope.
I knew I needed to find a way to cope because since I've begun counseling, I've rarely used food medicinally. As a matter of fact, I've come to view comfort eating in a different light. Without my old coping tool of food, I needed to do more. I needed to hold my dilemma up to the light like a crystal, seeing how the light plays off this surface and that, so I can understand just what it is I'm holding on to.
Driving home today, I thought about how so many times when I give my kids the short end of the stick, it's because I'm trying to maintain the illusion of perfection (don't laugh). My kids absolutely don't think I'm perfect - just ask 'em - but they're loving and precious and I don't want to ever let them down. And in my efforts to never let them down, I put unrealistic pressure on myself.
And I realized that instead of answering my daughter's "Can I help?" with "Not this time," I owe her and me a better answer. I owe us "I'm trying to figure out how to do this." I can tell her what I'm trying to accomplish, and invite her to try to solve the problem, just like I am.
I can show my kids that it's okay to not have all the answers. I can teach them the value of "I don't know," and how "I don't know" isn't the end, it's just a bump in the road.
I can teach them how to overcome obstacles. My husband is extremely good at this, but my kids need to see it from me too. Just like my husband talks through this challenge or that, I need to verbalize my inner dialogue and model this skill of figuring-out.
I think that's why I'm so crazy about working out and lifting weights. Every time I accomplish a new lift or level, I feel self-reliant and empowered. Unlike the external praise won through cooking or crafting, exercise gives me self-made pride.
Having explored this fear of mine (abandonment) in a new light, I felt so calm that I was able to play hide and seek with my youngest this afternoon. I found her and she found me.
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