What I Don't Tell My Daughters

Women are amazing creatures.  I say that, being one myself, but we are.  We were designed to do what men couldn't...have children.  And thinking about those children, particularly daughters, made me think of the changes I see in girls as they get older.  My three year old girl is feisty and smart.  She's tough and if you asked her, she would tell you that she rules the world.  But she's also kind, loving, generous, and sweet.  My older daughter is wise beyond her years, talented, beautiful, a wiseass, and has an unbreakable set of values and rules.  Her spine is made of iron.

I see girls grow up and they become less sure of themselves as time passes.  Instead of relying on their own inner strength and beauty they start to wonder if their thighs are touching or if they are pretty enough.  You can say one critical thing to them and couch it in a thousand smooth compliments and they will remember forever the one critical thing.

All of that taken into consideration, I don't want my three year old to stop ruling the world.  I don't want my teenager to soften that iron spine or hide her sharp wit behind a fog of faux stupidity just so she can make a boy feel smart.  I don't want them to bend, give, break, or sell themselves short.  So there are a few things that I don't tell my daughters:

1) Are you going to wear that?  I don't criticize what my daughters wear.  For the three year old it hardly matters, and for my teenager, she's old enough to know what she likes and doesn't like, and it's not always going to be what I like.  We're not the same person.  As long as it's modest and doesn't show too much skin, I don't really care.

2) You're too sensitive.  Guess what?  All girls/women are sensitive.  It's in our blood.  Telling a female that she's too sensitive, even if she is, tells that female that her feelings are really not that important and that her opinions can be discounted because she's too upset, hurt, concerned, whatever. 

3) You're too dramatic.  Too much drama.  Drama queen. etc.  See number 2.

4) Why are you listening to that?  My daughter has introduced me to some fantastic music.  I've introduced her to some.  We sometimes don't like each other's tunes, but that's not the point.  We're sharing, and we respect what each other likes.

5) The guys will love that short skirt. Why don't you wear it?  Ahem.  They probably will like it.  But I don't want her to get the message that that's an acceptable way to get attention. A killer sense of humor and a great attitude can go a long way towards being attractive also.  

6) Why can't you dress more like/be more like/wear makeup like/do your hair like so and so?  Moms, for the love of all that's good and right in this world, do not EVER compare your daughter to some other girl.  You have no idea the damage this does.  To your daughter, and to the relationship you have with her.  Because what you're really saying is, I can't accept you the way that you are.  Why can't you change, because what you are now is not good enough.

7) You are so silly/weird/etc. Teenage girls do act goofy.  It's a transitional time when they're trying new things, trying to figure out who they are and what they really want out of life.  Telling a girl that she's silly or weird does more damage than you might think.

I'm so thankful for my girls.  They are truly daughters of God.  And I want them to remember that, always.

My New Obsession

A couple of weeks ago, a friend invited me to a Saturday morning yoga session.  I'd never tried yoga before (except for a couple of times with a video), and I was really curious about our local studio, so I went.

Let me just stop here and say that the first time you do yoga, you may feel like you are going to die.  There will be people in the class that are much more advanced than you, who can do crow and handstands like it was nothing.  You will go there and see people thirty or forty years older than you who can complete an hour long session without getting red in the face.  So, I'll just repeat the advice that our instructor gives us on a regular basis:  pay attention to your own mat, not someone else's.  This particular discipline really is a journey, so everyone is at a different place on the road.

So, yeah, I felt like I was going to die.  But then I felt sooo good.  And I knew I had to come back.  I actually enjoyed it, and after doing it for a couple of weeks, I can recognize other important benefits as well.

I have a very stressful life, for reasons all my readers should be aware of by now.  If you don't know what I'm referring to, then go back and read every post I ever wrote about autism.  I find myself now, after going to this studio for an hour twice a week and hour and a half on the weekends, breathing.

And by breathing, I mean that when I feel stressed, or scared, it's almost automatic now for me to focus on how I'm breathing, and reminding myself of where I am, what I'm doing right at that moment, and that everything is okay.

This really ties in with mindfulness, which is something that some psychologists use to help people who deal with anxiety and other issues.  Mindfulness means actively thinking about where you are, what you are doing, what is happening around you, and so on.  It means being in the moment.  It does not mean worrying about the future, inviting trouble, getting angry, allowing stress or anxiety to control you, or anything of that nature.

So, what does Namaste mean, anyway?  We say it at the end of every session.  Basically it means, I bow to you.  The deeper meaning is I bow to the divine in you, I bow to the God in you, The divine in me recognizes the divine in you, etc.  For me it is acknowledgment that we are children of God, that each of us has that within us.  And that is a beautiful thing.

Quote of the Day

"We should just go home. Everything is on the wrong channel today."

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

-lana del rey

Are you Mental?

Well, I'm not sure what to write here except to say that this, so far, has been a remarkably uneventful month.  And that's just fine with me.

Logan has been on his new medication since October, and it has positively affected our lives and his.  He actually said the other day that he feels better when he takes his medicine.

There are many people who are critical of parents who medicate their children, whether it's for ADHD or some other ailment, like autism.  My theory is that people are critical of medicating children because they don't actually understand the disorder that the medication is for, and they're only looking at the surface of the situation.  It sounds horrible to say, I give my child Prozac.  There are many parents who hesitate to talk about it because of the stigma that surrounds it.  I do not hesitate.

We don't know enough about mental disorders in children.  They are hard to study and understand because children aren't "finished" yet.  They are still growing, still changing.  Hormones start going 0 to 60 once they reach puberty.  So it's hard to talk about disorders in children the same way that we talk about them in adults.

Mental illness, mental disorders, whatever you want to call them, really should be viewed the same way that other physical disorders are viewed.  People have a hard time doing that because the brain, for many people, is largely an unknown. We hear that someone broke their leg and we understand exactly what that means and what needs to happen next to fix it.  We hear that someone had a heart attack and we know exactly what that means and are familiar with any number of outcomes from that situation.  But we hear that someone was admitted to a hospital because they were hearing voices, or that someone has to take a pill to keep from ramping up and down between extreme euphoria and extreme depression several times a day, and we don't understand.  It's scary.  What makes someone do that?  It's not a broken bone or a blood clot or too much fried chicken.  So, something must be wrong with them..as a person.

My hope is that in my lifetime, the world, or at least the United States, will see a paradigm shift in the way we view mental illness.  My hope is that awareness will increase, services will become more readily available, and that the stigma that is attached to people who suffer from mental illness and disorders will slowly and permanently disappear.

With that in mind, maybe we should just get rid of the term "mental illness" altogether.  Whenever I say this phrase, it reminds me of a phrase I used to hear when I was growing up and someone proposed something outlandish.  They would say, Are you mental?

When we say someone is "mentally ill", it's really not very descriptive.  It conjures up an image of an unkempt crazy person, rocking themselves back and forth and muttering.  I've also heard people say things like, Well, so and so was mentally ill, and so they did x, y, z, or they were mentally ill, so they tried to kill themselves.  Or they were mentally ill, and so they set the house on fire and robbed a convenience store.  Whatever.  It's a label we attach to people when their behavior is dangerous or doesn't make sense to us and scares us.

What the label doesn't do, is explain anything to anyone.  Why did so and so go into a school and shoot ten people?  Because he was mentally ill.

Because he suffered from extreme depression and psychosis, did not receive the proper treatment and medication, because he lived in a poor community where these services are practically non-existent, because he was abused at home, because he was high on meth.

Do you see how much more awareness could be gained if we actually looked beyond the label of "mentally ill"?  If we were really interested in the WHY instead of the convenient explanation that makes us feel better and doesn't require us to think?

But sometimes there really isn't an easy answer and the only information we have is that someone is "not right in the head".  I get that. The media can only do so much, and sometimes, they do more harm than good or the answers just aren't available.  Personally, though, within our own social sphere, what if we actually made the time to understand people that are otherwise labeled as "strange", "out there", or "mentally ill"?  What would happen then?  You might learn that there is a good reason to stay away.  Or you might learn something completely new, and you might gain an understanding of something that you never quite grasped before.  Like what it's like to have OCD.  Or suffer from PTSD.  Or bipolar disorder.  And that, my dear readers, is where change begins.

The semester has started.  Let the games begin.

There's Something About the Desert

(photo from geology.com)

I could have easily titled this post "There's Something About the Dessert" and written about my love of chocolate and sweets, but that wouldn't really support my intention behind this post.  It brings to mind my Aunt Rebecca, who was in the Air Force, and brought home a t-shirt that read "Operation Dessert Storm".  I think she got the t-shirt in  Turkey, hence the misspelling.  Anyhow.

Recently I came to the conclusion, with a little inspiration, that I need an adventure.  Of all the places I thought of going to, Iceland and Marfa, Texas, came to mind.  Really funny, because they are two extremes, totally opposite of each other. It's important to travel, especially if you're involved in anything creative.  New scenery and landscapes stimulate the creative juices.  I have two novels in the works, but I was looking at R's Photo Spot and realized I need some new stuff.  And when I thought of that, for some reason I thought of the first time I ever visited Arizona.

If you've never been there, it's very different.  Everything is bright.  The sky, the rocks, everything, is saturated with color. It amazed me, because I had never seen a landscape like that, except in pictures.  The saguaro cacti were fascinating too, because they have an eerie, human quality.  Not all of them grow the way you see in that picture up above.  Sometimes, they grow with their limbs twisted or reaching.  As you head up into the foothills around Tucson, there are hundreds of them, and you get the feeling you're being watched.  The coyotes, which are very active in those parts, also let you know you're not alone when they start yipping and howling.  Probably the most significant thing about that trip was what happened when I got home.  I couldn't stop writing.  The words just poured out, and much of what I wrote was related to what I saw.  It felt like switch had been flipped in my brain with all the new things I got to see.

Sometimes, though, you don't have the time, or the money, to go someplace, even for a weekend.  I think it's still important to do something new. I live near a very large city.  I grew up here.  There are still things I haven't seen or done, maybe because the easy proximity makes me put it off, but getting out of the house, and saying, today, I'm going to go to the 6th street museum, because I've never been there, or I'm going to try that Pho noodle house, because I've never eaten there before, can still do wonders for a jaded soul.

That being said, there is a weekend in my future with far west Texas written all over it.  

So, I had this fantasy last month of what would happen if I actually moved to Iceland.  I've always wanted to visit there.  They have volcanoes.  And hot springs.  And skyr.  If you don't know what that is, it's a type of yogurt that tastes kind of like ice cream but it's pretty much fat free.  They also have northern lights.  It's like a geologist fun park.

But then, this week, I haven't been able to get warm.  I forgot that when winter rolls around in Texas, I feel like a naked mole rate in the heart of Siberia.  I love winter.  I hate feeling cold.

I write this, of course, as I am eating mint chocolate chip ice cream.  I'm a bundle of contradictions.  I think it's time for pj's and fuzzy socks.