Ask Moxie

Twin Cities and Toronto and Writing Through Your Divorce

I've driven 1200 miles since Saturday morning.

Twin Cities: We're meeting at the playground at Lake Harriet today! I'll be there from 4 to 7. Bring your kids or come alone. I'm wearing a navy tank top and khaki-colored shorts and black flip-flops.

Toronto: I'll be there next week for a conference. Meetup Monday, June 24 at 6 pm at the Pilot tavern, which I'm told is off the Bloor stop on the Yonge line of the subway. Who's in?

Today's the last day for the early bird pricing of the Writing Through your Divorce workshop. Price goes up tomorrow.

 

My kids are both at sleepaway camp right now. It feels a little strange that even the 8-year-old is there. How old were you when you went to sleepaway camp, if you went? Have your kids gone yet and how old were they?

Fathers Day Vent Here Safely

Today can be painful, annoying, hurtful, resentment-inducing, or just plain disappointing. Put it all here safely. You know the deal: No Misery Poker. Everyone's pain is valid. If you have any extra to spare, support someone else.

Comment anonymously by putting in a fake name and then a fake URL such as www.fake.com.

A hug to everyone.

Writing Through Your Divorce

The big announcement:

Deesha Philyaw and I are opening registration this morning for our new online workshop Writing Through Your Divorce!

If you're anywhere in the process of divorce (from pre-paperwork to years after finalization) and you'd like to use the discipline of writing to both process and create written pieces you're proud of, this workshop is for you. It starts July 8, and we're giving an early-bird discount for registering by June 19.

Everything you need to know about Writing Through Your Divorce is here.

If you're not in this place right now but you know someone who is, please pass this along to her!

Braindump for me and Primal Scream Thursday for you

Wow, I don't even know where to start. But here's a braindump:

1. I'm opening up a new workshop tomorrow with a collaborator that I love on a process that I adore and I'm super-beyond excited about it.

2. I'll have a vent post up for Father's Day (Fathers' Day) on Saturday at noon EDT running through Sunday, for anyone for whom this weekend is hard or irritating.

3. Drowning Doesn't Look Like Drowning. Our kids are all going to pools and lakes and the oceans in huge numbers and knowing what to look for could save someone's life. Please, please read this for the actual signs of drowning.

4. Julia from Mom Meet Mom is helping to put together help for Anon with the 6-year-old and twins from last week. You are all amazing for wanting to help, and I'll let you know what's happening when I know.

5. I'll be in the Twin Cities next week. Anyone want to do a meetup? I'm thinking Wednesday 4-7 pm (so people can come with kids after naptime or from work with or without kids) but we need a location. LMK if you're in (with or without kids) and if you have a location suggestion. I won't have my kids, fwiw.

6. The last week of school is grueling.

7. Too much work is way better than not enough work.

Now, Primal Scream Thursday for you. Release the hounds!

Feeling that "tug" and responding to it?

I'd been having a bad interaction and was feeling a little bruised about being on the internet, when this email from Andrea landed in my box:

"I just wanted to thank you for bringing "Waiting To Unfold" to our attention.

I have a friend in labor right now (seems to be a week long process, so I told her to quickly read the pregnancy posts!) with her third girl. Her first two girls have had some medical issues, and they don't know yet if this third child will, so the idea of waiting for a child to unfold is strong.

When I read your review of the book, I felt a little tug, and I'm starting to learn to listen to that, so I ordered it and was able to deliver it today, on the heels of a neighborhood girls' night out for her.

It's so easy to get busy in my own life, with work and school and baby turning one soon, and the laundry and things that are not getting done, that I forget the struggles of my good friends. Then I realize that even they have amazing support compared to so many, like your recent post.

So i'm going to do my best to listen more to that tug that tells me to reach out to someone. The same tug that suggested I donate my son's clothes to my former student, unwed and twenty, having a boy the same month mine was born. Easy to think, but I need to take the next step and act on it.  I know people of different faiths have different theories on that tug, whether it's God or some other force. I don't know if I need it to have a name, as long as I learn to listen to it.

So all that to say thank you for providing a way for me to listen and reach out and do something small for someone special."

This hit me, hard. First of all, what inspired Andrea to send me that email exactly when I needed to hear it? She must have been listening to the tug in order to send it.

Also, I've started trying to pay attention to the tug when I hear it in my own life. I feel like sometimes I'm afraid to put my neck out or to overstep my bounds, but inevitably when I do follow the tug it opens up something or I find out the person really needed it.

I thanked Andrea, and she responded:

"I was thinking about times that I haven't responded to the tug... They really stick with me. Like something so small, but I was behind a young mom at the library and they told her she had fines that had been sent to a collection agency and I wished so badly I had my purse so I could cover her fees. I still try to remember the name I heard so I could go back and give the money, it was clearly a tug I should have listened to.

Definitely safety concerns and a general social awkwardness come in to play when the tug is related to a stranger. It's A lot easier when I get the feeling a friend could use dinner or flowers or a break from their kiddos. It's harder when I don't know the person and feel weird about even walking up to them to see if I can help.

Would love to hear people's thoughts on that, and on balancing the desire to teach our kids to listen to the tug, while maintaining the basic safety rules and stranger guidelines we want them to follow."

Yeah: Do you know what Andrea and I are talking about with "the tug"? I wouldn't describe it exactly as a feeling of obligation, but more of just an opportunity, an opening, and the thing that makes sense is to fill that opening. Whether it's a small conversation with someone, or handing someone a twenty dollar bill, or giving someone a ride, or anything that helps someone else in a concrete way.

And, how do we respond to it? In some ways, I feel like it's easier for me to respond when I'm feeling like I have fewer personal resources. When I'm feeling like I have more to spare, I don't seem to notice the tug, or there's more resistance to answering the tug.

Thoughts? And also, what about Andrea's concerns about safety and modeling for our kids?

Q&A: What do you do when you feel like you just can't do it anymore?

Anon writes:

"I'm a single mom of a 6-year-old and 2.5 year old twin boys. I got divorced right after the boys were born and I've been doing it alone the whole time. My 6yo is helpful but is having some very serious behavioral issues right now, in the form of tantrums, acting out, saying she hates everyone, etc. Her best friend's parents (my friends) have even instituted a "break" between my child and theirs because her behavior is so out of control. (Not physical, nothing dangerous. More like a simply time out ends in 2 hours of screaming bloody murder from her room). I think her behavior is due to the fact that her horribly-unreliable father hasn't seen her in months and doesn't have any plans to, despite promising for months that he'd be taking her for the summer, as is written in our parenting plan. (He simply says he can't, because he has to work and can't afford sitters for them.) I've given her individual attention, I get sitters for the boys and take her out alone, I've tried talking to her and truly listening (she says she doesn't think anyone likes her and her dad doesn't want her), we do a TON of fun stuff, I go to every school function.

The thing is, I'm at the end of my rope. I'm so tired of being told that she hates me, and her brothers, and doesn't love me, and wants her dad. The boys ask for him all the time but don't have the resentment and anger (yet). I don't work (I live off my child support/alimony, just barely) because I can't afford childcare with the wages I'd make. So I have no break. My friends and family are only supportive in the "that's a bummer" way, not in the "let me help you out" way. I wish they'd step up, because I think my daughter could benefit from having another figure in her life who isn't stretched so thin. Alas, there's no one here.

I just don't think I can handle this. As we all know, the highs are high and the lows are very low in parenting, and sometimes I do ok. But overall, I'm just spent. I just don't know if I can keep this up. I'm on antidepressants, I have anxiety meds, I have sleep medication (which I can't take, because I'm solely responsible for these kids and can't be zonked out). Still, I'm having heart palpitations and "losing it" a little more than I'm comfortable with. I'm genuinely getting worried about having a nervous breakdown. I exercise, I have friends, I hire sitters about twice a month to get a break, I'm doing what I'm "supposed to."

I just don't want to hate my life, and constantly fight with my kid. I've tried a zillion methods of parenting, but God, I'm just so tired and overwhelmed. I just can't figure out how to make it work. I love my kids, of course. That's a given. But it's so constant and monotonous...and the fighting, and the screaming, and the tantrums, day in and day out times infinity.

All I can think to do is drop the kids off with their father, just so I can get a break. Legally, he should have them this summer. But I'm not sure that's actually best for them, despite their longing to go. (Not to mention, if he can't work because he takes them, he stops paying me.)

I keep hearing "suck it up" and "dig deep" kind of comments...but I just can't. There's nothing left to dig from. Please don't think I'm overdramatic or whiny or whatever. It's not like I'm about to turn them over to the state or anything. I'm just out of ideas for how to make this work. It's not working."

I'm really sorry people are saying "suck it up" to you. That's both clueless and cruel, and I'm guessing it's coming from people who aren't alone with their kids 24/7 and who don't have a child who's acting out constantly.

I asked Anon some follow-ups questions, and it turns out that her kids' father lives 500+ miles away. So she can't just give him the kids for a weekend or after work. He says he works six days a week, and is uninterested in seeing the children, although Anon is willing to let him stay in her house to visit the kids while she stays someplace else. He doesn't want to see the kids.

So.

Everyone: This is the fallout that happens when parents don't take their responsibilities seriously. I know it can be really, really hard to have to deal with an ex, but if you don't keep pushing to see your kids whenever you can, your kids are going to bear the pain of that. I know there's someone out there right now who's wondering if they can really keep dealing with an ex to be able to see their child: YOU CAN. You can do it, no matter how much it hurts you, because the alternative is hurting your child. Your child needs you.

Now, to Anon: Your daughter's hurt is more than you can deal with on your own. For one thing, you can't really comment on your ex to your daughter. And for another, you don't know enough about the grieving process in kids. You need someone who has experience with grief and separation to help your daughter through this. I would search for a divorce support group for kids for your daughter. If you can't find one, look for a counselor who has experience helping kids with grief. I'd call her school counselor or social worker as a starting point to find someone.

Once you find someone to help, you'll have that other adult who will understand enough about the process to be able to talk about it with you honestly and give you the feedback you need about how to help yourself deal with it.

In the meantime, I wish I lived across the street and could just tell you to send your kids over to play with mine and @jenunexpected's in my front yard while you spend some time alone. Not being able to afford to work is serious, and real, and happens to way more of us than people in different employment markets imagine. The good news is that eventually all your kids will be in school and you'll be able to work for pay. The bad news is that that's a few years away.

If you felt like you could, you could email me back and tell me where you live, and we could see if we could find more support for you, whether that was just finding a few like-minded moms to hang out with who would understand your stresses, or more substantial childcare or employment help.

What I do know is that even though you think you can't do it, you ARE doing it. I just wish the tunnel wasn't so long so it was easier to see the light at the end of it.

Who has words of help for Anon?

Survey request from Moxite: Looking for parents who have lost babies

Please read and pass this on, from a long-time Ask Moxie reader:

My name is Kelly Leahy and I am pursuing a Master of Social Work degree from Tulane University. As part of my professional project, I am investigating the availability and impact of bereavement options and ritual on parents who have experienced the death of an infant. Below is the formal announcement for the study:

I am seeking participation from parents over the age of eighteen who have experienced the death of an infant less than one year old or fetal demise at greater than 22 weeks gestation and 500g in weight, to complete a ten-minute online survey on interment and ritual options available to them when they lost their child.  Survey responses are anonymous and confidential.  Participants must be proficient in English.  Please visit http://www.noibf.org/survey/ to complete the survey.

If you have any questions about my project, please feel free to contact me at kleahy@tulane.com. Thank you for your help.

Community FYI

Just wanted to let you know that our beloved commenter hedra's sister died suddenly and unexpectedly a few days ago. Hedra and husband and kids are hurting. I thought you'd want to know. I'll tell her I posted this so if you leave any comments here she'll see them when she comes up for air.

Discussion: Waiting to Unfold by Rachel Barenblat

Welcome to the Summer Readalong 2013! Our May book is Waiting to Unfold by Rachel Barenblat. Rachel is a rabbi and a blogger at Velveteen Rabbi. She is an infertility survivor and a mother.

I haven't been in a discussion about poetry since 10th grade, so forgive me if I'm missing some key poetry discussion features!

Waiting to Unfold consists of two cycles. One cycle is poems written during her pregnancy, and the second is poems written during her son's first year.

I chose this book because I loved how intimate and raw her poems are. I feel like Rachel is able to capture the very specific and make it universal. She's a poet, and I'm not, but this stanza from the poem "Introduction (Three)" in the first cycle was so deep and true for me:

Asked to introduce myself
in seven words
I come up with
"growing a new poem
line by line."

The idea of the dailyness, the building, the creating something beautiful of being pregnant made me remember being pregnant with a fondness I know I didn't allow myself to feel while I was in it.

She makes the intimate epic, and the epic intimate. I started crying again reading these lines from "Night Feeding" in the second cycle:

as a hind longs for water
my soul longs for sleep

but I pace the round carpet
until I can crawl into bed

praying that I get a whole hour
before you summon me with your cries

which call in equal measure
my milk and my tears

Her use of the scriptural language connects us as mothers with the Divine, with nature, with all animals, and with all other mothers at the same time. It makes us both little and big, everything and nothing as we do what we have to do to nourish our young even when we think it's breaking us. How many of us have cried through feedings? I wonder if anyone hasn't.

The second cycle brings us through Rachel's fight with post-partum depression and her recovery, along with weaning and her coming to terms with infertility and how dislocating pregnancy was for her after that infertility.

I feel like this is the book I would give to someone who said to me, "No, TRY to tell me what motherhood is like," because even though Rachel has had some experiences not all of us have had, the way she captures the emotion of those experiences is the translation of what it's like in that first year of being someone new that you didn't know you would be.

Questions for discussion:

 1. Did the poems in Waiting to Unfold make you think differently about your own experiences, or did they feel like a window into someone else's world?

2.Were there any of the poems in the second cycle that seemed to be the direct inspiration for the title Waiting to Unfold?

3. Were you at all struck by the poem "Grandparents' House"? What emotions did it make you feel, if any?

Anything else you'd like to say about the book as a whole or individual poems?

 

Next book: Tulips, Water, Ash by Lisa Gluskin Stonestreet. Discussion post goes up June 26.

Happy Memorial Day