Persona

When one becomes a parent it is expected that one's life is now no longer centered on one's self but on that child. Basically, it means that a parent now becomes another person entirely. Thus, parents are then two people sharing one body. Some parents are quite comfortable with this role and even seem to somehow meld certain aspects of their former self in with their new parental self. However, there are others who struggle with this transformation. It may not happen immediately it could take months or years, heck, decades for the other entity to become restless and confront their parental persona.

My question is, as parents, do we ever get back that former persona? Is that person lost forever? Doomed to be nothing more than a memory, your own personal joke. Do parents have a modified version of dissociative identity disorder? Obviously I wouldn't compare most parents to Shirley Manson (Sybil), that would be a gross exaggeration.


Thoughts like these pop up on me sometimes and it makes me wonder who will I be when my children get older? Will I have more personas to giggle with over some recollection that only we know about? It is apparent that as our children get older their needs will change and parents would have to adapt to those changes. The mother who kisses boo boos and wipes bums will eventually cease to exist, changing into a mother begging for everyone to sit and eat together and encouraging her children to do the right thing when she isn't around which will be more and more often. Then they move and who is there to care for in any capacity? Who am I then? These questions exhaust me.

Christmas wishes

Many sit back and think about what they would like on Christmas morning. My thoughts are beyond that morning. My Christmas wishes are far more complex than a Kindle or a new purse. These things will not fix what has been broken. What about 3 months after Christmas? Where will we be? That is my concern. Everyone hopes for a better New Year I hope for a 180.

Lost it

In younger years I had so much to say and no one to say it to. The paper was my friend my hand numb and screaming in retaliation. Fast forward and the words are gone although I have an audience to entertain. Irony, sweet irony. The words are all gone. How I long for their return, syllable by syllable, vowel by vowel. All stolen, taken, never to be returned. I ache for them.

Happy Holidays 2010

Love Joy Christmas

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The Holidays

How messed up is it when you can't really have your kids put the ornaments on the tree without secretly knowing that once they are in bed you will go through and rearrange everything yourself? Ok guys, good job on the tree! Time for bed! Queue Mom and Papi- Ok honey can you put these Hallmark ornaments towards the top so Jack can't destroy them? Thanks! It's merely a strategy to ensure our expensive heirloom ornaments last until they are tweens. However, in all fairness I do have our "it's ok if it breaks" and decoupage Disney ball ornaments towards the bottom for hours of take them off throw them around enjoyment!

Stinky Breath

My middle son had his tonsils and adenoids taken out 2 weeks ago today. Although I am very happy that he had it done so young, the tender age of 4 almost 5, there are certain areas that cause me distress. The doctors make the post op care seem so simple: give pain meds every 4 hours, use cold compresses for pain, follow a soft diet, avoid physical activity, and watch for bleeding. They throw in other little instructions via the nurse: watch for fever, make sure BM's are happening (just in case, BM means bowl movement), he may be nauseous so give anti-nausea meds to help, and he may have some bad breath a couple days after surgery.

Seems simple enough, right? Not really! What they fail to mention is the emotional roller coaster your kid experiences thanks to the anesthesia that seems to take forever to work out of their system, the regular fever to expect, the night sweats and night terrors, the constipation caused by the pain meds you HAVE to give so your child doesn't feel like they have swallowed knives, and the "bad" breath is not "bad" it's make your entire house smell like the devil's sewer horrible! So now I have an emotionally unstable, pain riddled, no BM taking, terrified child who I can't comfort properly because his breath makes me want to vomit if I come within 5 feet of it!

Perhaps I should be writing their post op instruction and guideline list!