I wasn’t expecting to have a visceral response to observing someone I hardly knew do home renovations.
I landed on a question that made total sense to my helicopter parenting mom-brain: Does that feel safe in your body?
After combing through mommy groups, I landed on a question that made total sense to my helicopter parenting mom-brain: Does that feel safe in your body?
My family still couldn't talk about her death out loud, but I needed a reminder she was really gone.
I touched “Aunt Kelly” on the screen and waited for a robotic voice to say, “this number has been disconnected.” This is how I met Shawn.
Parenting gets harder. Giving up control of our kids is an art.
My mom helped me find the balancing point between caretaking and controlling because she insisted on her autonomy. “I don’t need your help in the shower,” she’d say, “and I can dress myself.”
That summer became the fulcrum of a seesaw: as my children need me less, my mother needed me more. My mother's arthritis taught me to love and let go.
Coming out of dissociation can feel like waking from a lucid dream. One moment you’re on the other side of physical reality, and then you cross the threshold and are part of life again.
As each moment came to pass, I relaxed just a little more. She wasn’t the only one learning to let go. This is parenthood!
And accept them for who they are.
Sometimes a woman gets stuck in blame and anger after divorce because it’s far too painful to look at themselves and the role they played in the end of their marriage.
This article is the second in a two-part series.