Come Undone: Ode to the Overworked Mamas

Women are expected to keep it together no matter what. We are the nurturers and the heart-center of our families. We work from sun-up to sun-down to make sure that everyone has what they need--often at the cost of our own bodies and sanity. 

Sometimes however,  we need to allow ourselves to come undone. 

To fall facedown into our pillow and cry until our tears are spent. 

To lock ourselves into the bathroom and cry under a running shower. 

To cancel the work meeting, PTA phone tree or coffee with an acquaintance that you really aren't needed at and really didn't want to go to so that you can have that internal freak out that has been brewing for months. 

To park in an empty parking lot and lay your weary head on the steering wheel, turn your damn phone off and cry until your eyes are raw. 

Come undone. 

Let go of the bullshit that's been stacking up on your shoulders for ages. 

Come the hell undone. The world and it's expectations will wait for you--I promise. This is your moment, Love. Fall apart. I swear that you will come back together again.

Allow yourself to be free of expectations if only for a moment. Allow your shoulders to be free of the weight of the world. Just be delightfully goddamned free of all the bullshit. 

Come undone. 

My God, doesn't it feel go to LET GO? 

You can have it all together again tomorrow. No one needs to know. Just allow yourself the respite, the freedom of coming undone. You deserve every moment, Darling. 

Come undone. 

It's going to be okay. It is.

The Beast of Not-Enough

I am slowly realizing that the root of my anxiety is a deep, deep feeling not being enough. Not a good enough person, nurse, wife, mother, woman...the list goes on and on. 

I don't remember a time that I did feel as though I was enough- worthy, deserving, valuable- not even in childhood. There is a pervasive fear within me that I will fail over and over again and the world around me will have proof of unworthiness. Or, that the world around me will come crashing down upon me to punish me for my not-enoughness. It is a constant and unreasonable fear that lies as deep as the DNA at the core of who I am. 

The world knows who it expects me to be- a perfectly dressed and coifed mother that is successful in her career, volunteers actively in her community, busy rearing children that are perfect carbon-copies of my own perfection all while living in a perfectly clean and decorated home with fresh, whole foods at the ready.  I'm not sure if any other women have ever managed this feat(my worried mind can think of more than a few that from appearances alone surely seem to be managing it) but I fail at this day after day. And, yet- it isn't the failure of the world's ideal of a mother, of a woman that is the core of my feeling of unworthiness- for even on days when I manage to have it all together, still this feeling of not enough persists, ugly and screaming underneath my carefully shellacked and ever smiling exterior. 

I fear that the not enough gene is woven within my cells in a way that it can never be untangled. It lies in wait for any bit of weakness so that it can come bursting through to haunt me. 


I've come so far with my anxiety and even my feelings of worthiness. However, I am realizing just how persistent this icky core belief is. I cannot tell you the root of it- I simply don't ever remember a time that I felt truly worthy of good things. As I age, I am realizing that this belief seems to be common among other women(and I imagine men, too). I think that many of my large life decisions have been made as the Beast of Not-Enough fervently whispered in my ear. It likely played a large part in my decision to become a nurse- I thought that if I helped enough people, I would become worthy. Worthy of what? I would go as far to say that there have been times in my life that I wondered if I was worthy of life, itself. 

I have sacrificed of myself in order to build others up as they seemed ever so much more worthy than I but this sacrifice did not lend itself to my own healing. 

I wonder if it is time to try something new. If it is time to expend my own energy to find my own sense of worth, far outside of the expectations of society. If it is time to find forgiveness inside of myself for my own imperfections and show my children how strong and happy their Mama can be. 


I am ready. Ready to conquer and destroy the Beast of Not-Enough. 

A Kleenex Salute

Some days as a nurse are harder than others. Today was not a particularly hard day but the desperation of my patients just seemed unbearable for some reason. So, after my last home visit I pulled into an empty parking lot and had a cry. 

As I was having a pretty impressive weep, a police car pulled up several rows down from me. Now, in the poverty-stricken areas that I work there is usually a strong police presence so I wasn't surprised to see him but I was sitting in the parking lot of an abandoned and empty grocery store and it did seem like a strange place for another person to park.  So I watched him. 

I could see that he appeared to be talking on a phone so I just continued on with my cry, gathering myself together before I picked up my kids after my shift. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bit of white flash and I looked over- the white flash was a Kleenex that the burly police officer was using to wipe his tears as he wept into his phone.

He noticed me watching and seemed embarrassed. Then, he seemed to take in the stethoscope around my neck and my own Kleenex in my hand and nodded, like he had put together all of the clues and knew why I was here. He raised his chin in hello. 

I kept imagining the call he was making or what he had just seen(I imagined a thousand different horrible things in just a moment's time- we nurses have seen many horrors and our imaginations are sickeningly active) and I cringed. 

I raised my Kleenex in silent salute and appreciation. He raised his back to me. A shredded, pulpy, messy salute. 

Then he went back to his call and I drove off in the direction of my home. 

There is no shame in crying.  Some days we must purge the pain to continue to march forward and warrior on. 

For all of you in helping professions of all kinds- I raise my soggy Kleenex in salute to you.

Embracing Our Emotions(why it's okay to be a crybaby)

As a child I was often mocked for my propensity to tears. I feel things strongly and would often cry if another classmate cried, if the book I was reading became sad, if a teacher was harsh with another student-- you get the idea. There were children that chose not to be friends with me because I was a "Crybaby".

As I became older I found many other coping mechanisms and found myself crying in public less and less. I still cried in private as I found that crying was a great release of the pain and sadness that I often felt, particularly at the end of the day after being bombarded by the sadness and pain of others all day. As an empath, I have always been sensitive to the feelings of others and having a "release valve" is important.

I find that, particularly as an adult, crying has a stigma attached to it. Many perceive crying as a sign of weakness. I believe that such a thought could not be further from the truth.

The emotional and physical release of crying(which is believed to assist our body in releasing stress hormones and toxins) allows us to purge ourselves of negative feelings and move on with our life. Without a form of release, we do not have the emotional space within us to continue to tackle life at a deeper level. I believe that crying makes us stronger human beings.

So, the next time your child falls to tears, do not be so quick to shush them. Put an arm around them and allow them the emotional space to release what is bothering them.

When your notoriously emotional co-worker has tears streaming down their face, allow them to purge their feelings and move back to work.

This life can be hard. We all need healthy ways to release the stress, the sadness, the anger. If crying is your way, embrace it. Life is too short to carry unnecessary burdens. Release what you no longer need.

Have a good cry today if you need one, Lovelies. I'll pass you the tissues.

To the Parents of the School Bully – You Have Created This Monster.

Every school has at least one bully. The child that, no matter how vigilant the school is, finds a way to make other children miserable. Sometimes this child appears to have lovely, engaged parents and no one can make out how this bully was created. More often, however, it is wildly apparent to all of us that the parents are the direct cause of the child that feels free to be cruel to the other children.

Maybe it is a naïve thought, but I believe that the vast majority of parents have their children’s best interests at heart. That fact somehow makes it even harder to watch from afar as parents make choices that not only negatively impact the other children at the school, but also will one day impact their own child.

There is a boy at my children’s school that I have watched from afar as his parents slowly and surely created within him a selfish and cruel child. I have watched as they asked for special treatment of their son time and time again, thinking their beloved son to be better than the rest of the population. I have listened to their public rants each year about why his teacher isn’t good enough for their son. I have watched, horrified, as they witness his poor behavior and do nothing to stop it and sometimes even encourage it.  I have watched as they, the parents who should be setting an example instead broke school rules themselves over and over again.

They have fostered a son who believes that the world should and will bend for him. With their own actions, they have not only raised a son that often makes the school day hard for those around him but they have also raised someone that will likely struggle to achieve much in this world for the world will surely not bend to accommodate their child’s every whim as they are teaching him that it will.

I simply cannot believe that these parents wish for a bad life for their son or those around him. I try to find compassion for them, even as their misguided actions have led to tears for my own child. I wish for them to see what those around them can see so clearly. 

What I wish that you could know for yourself:

Your child does not deserve better that anyone else.  Of course your son is special. All children are special, especially to their parents. Expecting your child to always be treated better than those around him is creating a child that believes that the world should and will place him on a pedestal. As much as you would like for the entire world to see your son the way that a mother does, it will never happen. Do you truly believe that any boss will allow him special treatment, even as he breaks the rules over and over again and publically shames his coworkers? Will police officers and judges give him his own set of laws to follow because he is “special”? I shudder to imagine the adult life that is ahead of him if he continues on this path.

Kindness must be cultivated.  I believe that kindness is innate in most children. However, as they grow up, it is important to teach them to be kind even when those around them make mistakes. I’ve seen the way that you treat school staff- with disdain and expectations of them witnessing your superiority. Your son treats his peers in this same way. If you treat others with kindness, they will follow your lead. Cruelty can be fostered in the same way and it is toxic to everyone.

Bullies never win in the long run. It may give your son, and maybe you as well, some feeling of superiority to act in the unkind way that you do. It must be serving you in some way for you to continue in this way.  However, in the long term, this behavior leads to a very lonely life. It is impossible to foster relationships when one is frequently cruel and submissive. I cannot imagine that you wish for your son a life of loneliness.

Humility is always better received than egotism.  Your child is a human being and, therefore, cannot be the best at every, single thing that he does. He will have strengths and weaknesses and there is nothing at all wrong with admitting that you aren’t great at something. It’s also important to be humble and admit when you are wrong. Everyone makes mistakes and it’s necessary for both parents and children to be open about their own mistakes and apologize when necessary. No one wants to befriend someone who only flaunts his or her own ego around.

If you do not have consequences for your child’s poor actions, they cannot learn from their own mistakes. People always say that the best way to learn is by making mistakes, something that most of us have learned firsthand. However, you cannot learn if there are not consequences. If you continue to make excuses for your son’s behavior and continue to expect the school to treat him differently than others, he never has an opportunity to learn and grow from his mistakes and-possibly even worse- believes himself to be above the rules.

The school is your ally, not your enemy.  I know that school decisions aren’t always correct, for teachers and staff are human, too. However, the school system is full of teachers and staff that work incredibly hard for little pay- they are doing this grueling job because they truly care about children and want them to succeed. Fostering in your child a belief that the school system should be bucked and fought at all costs is creating a strain on the staff, students and even your child. If you have a concern, treat the school as team members and treat everyone involved with respect. Always listen as much as you speak. You will likely find that they are eager to help you make the best life for your child.

I’m not holding my breath and assuming that you may read this piece and miraculously change the way you parent your child but I cannot help but hope that you will, for your son's sake as much as for the other children at the school. It is very hard as a parent to place limits on your child and to discipline them when necessary. I understand that pain. However, I believe your child will someday thank you for giving him the tools to be a kind human being and, hopefully, someday be a productive and compassionate adult.

Inside the fish bowl: Life in Iowa during Caucus season

I’m proud to live in a state that has such an important role in the presidential election. It is a rather wonderful experience to go to the caucus every four years and help to choose a presidential candidate and I look forward to that each time caucus season comes around again.

It is also quite overwhelming to live in Iowa during this time, especially for a sensitive soul and a mother with children. For months and months leading up to the caucus, our phones ring off the hook with political surveys and recorded diatribes, the television and radio ads are full of snarky, smarmy commentary about just how horrendous the “other” candidates are and our mailboxes are full of graphic mail full of unkind pictures of candidates with cruel commentary of all the mistakes that they have made in their lives.

There was a time when caucus season was not so overwhelming. We’ve always been deluged with advertisements, mail and phone calls- however, there was a time when the candidates used their voices to tell us about their own platform. That time has long past. We now spend precious minutes of our day listening to vitriolic attacks of one candidate on the others. It is emotional exhausting and depressing.

It is especially trying to experience these days as a mother. My younger children become filled with anxiety, wondering aloud if our country will ever be okay if any of these men or women become president because if one were to listen to everything that we hear, they each are the spawn of Satan himself. We are one of the archaic households that still has a home phone line and it has now been unplugged from the wall. We watch only programs off of the DVR so that we can fast-forward through the hateful commercials. We listen to MP3s instead of the radio. It has become imperative to shield our children from the hate even as we raise them to know the importance of the Democratic system and doing their civic duty and voting in every election.

I do not do my vetting of candidates from advertisements or even from the debates, which seem to no longer be a venue for the candidate to share his or her ideas for this great country but instead have snowballed into a place to throw barbs at one another much like inviting a group of playground bullies upon a stage.

I will educate myself about each candidate and make a decision, proud to use my voice in the caucus. I am grateful for that opportunity and am grateful for opportunity for the world to see how wonderful my humble, Midwestern state is.

However, at this point in the circus  that is Iowa during the caucus season- I will mostly be grateful for the process to be over. On Tuesday morning I will plug my phone back in, turn on my radio and watch television without worry of spewed hate swirling its way into the sanctity of my home. I will wish for a day in which our election season is returned to a day in which I hear about the candidates themselves without sickening malevolence towards each other. But, for now will be simply grateful to reclaim my loving home without the daily intrusion of venomous politicians and their campaigns.

Post-holiday Hibernation

The busyness of the holiday season has passed. Weeks of preparation- the baking, shopping, decorating, card writing blur of busy days that culminated in a single day of celebration are now done. I have blinked and the time has passed, leaving me exhausted and still.

I allow myself to sink deep inside where the shadow of the celebration still lives- inside my heart, which knows that each and every day is meant for celebration. 

The holidays have a way of amplifying everything- love, joy and sadness alike.

I am raw with feeling. My weary body cries for rest. My soul is now as coarse as if it had been rubbed with sandpaper and I nearly vibrate with the need to hibernate away from any and all stimulation.

This, the blurry days no longer marked on a calendar punctuated by holidays, is the time of my very own holiday- the hibernation of self. These are the days where rest is celebrated- sleep and quiet days lost inside a warm house while outside the cold wind ravages the barren Iowa topography. The snow does not discriminate. It falls softly over everything in it's path, softening the hard edges and forcing a calm to settle over the world, reminding our very souls of the importance of stillness. 

These are the days in which I remember the flickerings of my soul, the deepest parts of myself that were forgotten amidst the flurry of holidays that have been long lost to consumerism. 

Those harried days have passed and now, I am here. I am alone, deep inside my head with the thoughts that were forgotten in the bustle of the past months. Every year I promise myself that I will remain strong and still amongst the busyness of the season and every year I fail and lose myself inside the sanctity of busy- the place where your moving limbs blur the need to remember the core of who you are.

I was lost, but now I will find myself again.

There is nowhere else that I need to be, that I want to be. I am alone with only my own thoughts for company. I shall sink into this solitary place for as long as is needed. Until my life blooms again around me. Until I am rested and whole.

This is my holiday. A simple celebration of the quiet within.  There is nothing needed to prepare for this holiday- I am all that was ever needed.