Saturday, June 12, 2010

In the sandbox....

We went to the beach the other day. What a perfect day. Mary was so excited, but it was so hard for her to wait the hour it took to drive there. I was feeling quite content and peaceful. I was in my sandbox all day. I wish I could bottle up that feeling and take a drink whenever I need it. Unfortunately that can't be done, fortunately, they sell wine at the grocery store. My son played with Mary and she had a blast! Jimmy is only 15 months older than Mary. When they were little, they were inseparable, now he gets easily embarrassed by her, and will avoid her as much as possible. I know it is hard for him to understand, even though we have been dealing with her sometimes odd behavior all her life. If we are out in public and she does something silly, he gets upset and tells her to stop. I know how he feels, I was just as bad. That's probably where he gets it from. It was hard for me to change my way of thinking and dealing with certain situations when we are out in public. My two older daughters have no problem, they love and accept Mary just the way she is. I will keep working on Jimmy, I know he will get through it.

Why is it that our children pick up on all our anxieties and negative hang ups? My oldest daughter will be 21 in Sept. I am proud of the responsible, well adjusted adult she is slowly becoming. I thought for sure I screwed up her life for good. Luckily I didn't, but I do see that she is a terrible worry wort, has anxieties and fears for which I am constantly telling her to get over. Gee, wonder where she got all that from? I had a meeting at Mary's school yesterday with her teachers and a school psychologist. We went over her evaluation and discussed how to help her with her school/homework. Probably the most important thing that came out of that whole meeting is how I need to deal with everything. I know that my anxiety about her doing her homework or not understanding something is transferring onto her. Mary has anxieties and fears that are magnified 10 times worse than mine.

Somewhere in my mind I equate worry and stress about my children with love. If I don't worry enough, it means I don't love them? I realize that is a very twisted way of thinking, and it has done nothing for me but mess with my health. It seems I am constantly learning something about myself and how I mother my children. I don't strive for perfection, lord knows I don't want my children to think they have to be perfect. I just hope that I can reverse some of the negative things I feel I have instilled in them. You know, like not freaking out that a car is going to back up over them in the parking lot, choking on a hot dog, falling off the earth, that kind of stuff.

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