Independence

Musings

I really had no idea what I was getting into when I had children. After the initial love affair and honey moon of the twins birth was over, reality set in. For me, reality consisted of the constant caring for needs other than mine and the tedium of those same needs over and over. Nurse, burp, puke, pee, poop. Poop, puke, nurse, burp, pee. Even the different order of tending to those same needs never spiced up the situation. So I always had this baseline of, “When is this going to end?” I couldn’t wait for the day my children were more independent and capable of taking care of themselves. What I found out is that that really doesn’t happen until three at the earliest. And then it’s really only very small things that aren’t done very well. Like putting laundry in the laundry basket. Now that the twins are five and my youngest is four, life is much better in some ways. They can pour themselves a glass of water, turn on the TV, find the cereal and pour milk in a bowl, wipe themselves, brush their own teeth, dress themselves (and if you saw what my daughter wears sometimes you would know she is definitely dressing herself - they can have their own style as long as it’s weather appropriate), they even know how to use the DVD player better than me (which is a complete mystery since I’ve never shown them how), and best of all, they no longer wake me up in the morning.

Along with the aforementioned lovely, independent new skills, they have also obtained some other independent skills that never occurred to me. I am no longer allowed to answer the phone and if I happen to pick it up at the same time or after my oldest son Jacob has already answered, I am chastised repeatedly until I hang it up and then he will bring the phone to me. The problem is he can’t read the caller ID yet. I am no longer allowed to sing or dance. I thought this was a rule that would be instituted when they would be about ten at the earliest. Not so. I ask, “What, you don’t like my singing?” to which they reply, “No, it’s annoying.” I am fired on a regular basis. Jacob starting firing the babysitter about a year ago but since I’m home now he gets to fire me. Luckily his sister always hires me back. When did they learn the concept of hiring and firing and where was I? I only allow my children to watch PBS during the day and we watch no TV at night. Was it a theme on Sesame Street? I went to Target one Saturday to pick up an extra laundry basket. I was forced to buy one for each child, and trust me, I am no pushover. It’s that pick your battles thing that Dr. Phil always talks about. So now they each have their own laundry basket and have figured out how to get the clothes in them, but God forbid if someone puts clothes in the wrong basket or I take one to clean the clothes without their permission. The horror! Trust me, I had no idea what I was getting into when I had children. But I love them and cherish them and they crack me up.

Although I have been writing this about my kids, my intent for this entry is really an adult theme. When I was a child, I was fiercely independent. I couldn’t grow up fast enough. I knew everything, noone could tell me anything, and look out world, I was an adult now! What I had essentially done in striving so hard to be independent of my family and friends was to chain myself to ideas and beliefs that kept me completely dependent on them. For instance, I didn’t need anybody, I could take care of myself. But I desperately sought approval from others and because I was desperately seeking it, I normally ended up with disapproval. So for all my striving for independence, I had essentially put myself in jail. My first mistake was to think independence would make me happy. I wish I could remember all the conditions I had on being happy. First it was I’ll be happy when I’m out of high school, then when I go to college, when I move to Wyoming, only when I’m riding horses, when I get a good job (although I had plenty of them), when I get a dog, when I get another dog, if I have a boyfriend, live in a different house, blah, blah, blah. I spent so much of my life shackling myself with another condition so I never enjoyed what I had when I had it. How could I, I was so weighted down with so many balls and chains I could barely get out of bed in the morning. But one day I woke up.

Have you ever said, “I am sick and tired of being sick and tired”? Well one day I woke up and meant it. But again, I had no idea of what I was getting into. It’s not a fun realization to think you were chasing down independence and finding yourself in jail - and realizing that you were the one that locked yourself in. The good thing was, I still had the key. For me awareness is the first step in healing which leads to so much more than independence, it leads to true freedom. One by one I have started to unlock my shackles. And although I’ve gained a few pounds these last few years, I feel lighter. I don’t have conditions to being happy anymore, (not even being skinny), I don’t have a baseline, “When is this going to end?” I know that my human emotions are a privilege and when I am angry and frustrated and not getting my own way, it doesn’t mean I can’t still be happy with what I have now in this moment. Anger, grief, depression, sadness can be happy blessings. They have something to teach. What I have found is you have to look the emotion in the eyes though, no matter how hard, and say, “What are you here for, what are you trying to tell me?” The answer just might be liberating. So now I am striving for freedom which is a process, not a destination. And although I love and honor my independence and that of my children a little INTER-dependence never hurts.

Debbie @ October 12, 2007