Therapist Mom

Well today I read a blog post by a therapist friend of mine called Lexie - so Lexie yes if you're reading this your post propelled me to think about this post and spiraled all these thoughts - talking about how we're all therapists and for the most part, most of her blog entries are about things she learns as a therapist. After reading her last post I panicked. I'm only seeing clients on Saturday and they're what you would consider your easy clients, not because they don't have real problems, but because they're willing to work and they don't trigger my own personal issues. I felt literally stuck in my own feelings as a therapist. I started thinking and wondering whether I was being stretched like I was during my training. I seriously started wondering if I was growing as a therapist, and if it was fair for my clients to be with a therapist who didn't feel all that challenged as of late. Again I panicked. This was somewhat funny, because I thought it was ironic that I felt better when I had clients that were driving me completely nuts as I felt I had to push myself to serve them better, than now that I had easier clients. I panicked because I couldn't remember when was the last time I had felt inadequate as a therapist, and I didn't like this feeling, not one bit. As I found myself panicking over my career and lack of growth that I was feeling I noticed that Alex seemed unstable hanging onto one of his toys trying to stand - he's crawling and trying to stand now - then his hand slipped and down he went but not without hitting his face on the toy. Mother fail. He started crying and I picked him up trying to comfort him. I felt so bad I had been right there next to him the entire time, and while I knew bumps were inevitable part of this new independence of his I couldn't help feeling inadequate as a mom. Inadequate. Wait did I just say inadequate? Alex stopped crying within seconds, and he was fine, and I found myself chuckling because I realized that feeling inadequate as a mom was helping me become a better therapist and that I didn't need to be in the therapy room 20hrs a week to learn more. You see, being a therapist is all about allowing yourself to be vulnerable, to be human, to be imperfect with your clients. And I quote directly from my friend's blog "What is wrong with me making mistakes as a therapist?!? What is wrong with me being imperfect and weak and growing in understanding? Why can't I treat my own humanness with compassion, dignity and ... humor? Why can't I take myself a little less seriously? Mistakes, feelings and humanity are not the enemy. The enemy... the "disease" is the idea that my weakness makes me wrong, unacceptable, ineffective, unable to contribute and have something to give in a relationship with others." All of a sudden my feelings of panic left me, and I realized that embracing my own humanness makes me not only a better therapist but also a better mom. I understood that being a mom has been the most vulnerable experience of my life, and that if anything I have learned to be more comfortable with feeling vulnerable than I was before. Inadequacy had never felt so sweet, I'm learning how to be a better therapist by learning how to be a better mom. And while learning how to be a good mom has definitely been more emotionally challenging than learning how to be a good therapist, I'm grateful that two passions in my life are so deeply connected.

When Alex was just a newborn

My other (better) half

You know you're a lucky woman when your husband comes home after a tiring day of work, sees you just lying on the bed with your face buried on the pillow facing a huge headache and without being asked gives you a back massage. Yep I'm a lucky woman! Today I want to write about my other and better half: my sweet husband. I realized that when I was learning so much during our first and second years of marriage I was completely away from my blog, so I don't have many posts from the time we got married as most of the posts were written during our dating days - awww. Well, yes he is my better half for many reasons but here's just a few.

1) He was worthy of taking me to the temple to be sealed to him, and made me feel like a princess on our wedding day - and continues to do so today

2) When we get upset with each other he has never been afraid to say "I'm sorry" (and with that charming smile of his all is forgiven haha)

3) He always makes a big deal and celebrates all of my small and big accomplishments (small like the first time I baked a pie and big during my Master's graduation dinner)

4) He is oh so romantic! A true gentleman!

5) He is a terrific dad! (This during Alex's blessing day)

6) He appreciates everything I do as a mother

7) And last but not least, he makes me LAUGH!

Thank you dearest, I love you!

OCD Remedy = Beets

Anyone that has been around me long enough knows that I have slight OCD tendencies. Now, for all my dear therapy friends out there I don't mean OCD in the correct professional term but more of the cultural understanding of what an OCD person looks like. That being said I have some minor problems with mess, and mostly mess that creates stains on clothes - I'm my mother's daughter! I can't help it! So if you're a mom you're probably thinking: being a mom means tolerance and acceptance of mess! And to you I say: Yes I know haha. So, with that knowledge I decided once Alex started eating solids and wanting to feed himself with a spoon, that I didn't want to restrict him from being a child because I don't like mess. I didn't want him to restrain himself from jumping on a puddle, or playing on the sand, and in this case exploring, learning and simply having fun because mommy has some cleaning issues. When the first so called mess came along every part of me wanted to grab the baby wipes and clean as he was eating to prevent further mess, but I restrained myself, and now that I think of it the mess really wasn't that bad. But my first true test came when I decided to make him a combination of carrots and beets. I love beets! And he has proved to have good taste like his mommy because he loves them! At first it was smooth, but then he put his hand in his mouth, he looked at his hand covered in this very bright color. This single act alone spiraled down to a series of events that tested my OCD for the very first time. Beets brought so much fascination to my little one that he decided to celebrate his new discovery by making a big big mess. He was unstoppable. So, fighting all of my CLEAN NOW urges I decided to help him. What?! Yes, I decided to have fun with him and let him do whatever he wanted to do with the beets. I took some pictures to celebrate our discovery - which do not do justice because you can't see that his pants were completely covered in beets (stain phobia gone!)

I know that as he grows he will make much bigger messes, but I'm glad that his first real mess was such a learning experience for me and that I was able to join him in the fun. So whenever I feel my OCD coming back I go back to the kitchen and make more beet puree.

Work Misunderstandings

The title for this post can be confusing so let me explain. Most people when they think of work or their job they think of something they put effort - in some cases- and then get something monetary in return. Ever since I had Alex I have been asked multiple times whether I'm back to work. Most people that know me know that I love what I do, I love being a therapist and have enjoyed working as such (most days haha); I do feel very blessed with having a career that I enjoy and have the skills to be able to do a decent job at it. That being said, it seems that most people think or believe I'm just dying to go and work part-time or believe that I'm already working since Alex is almost 8 months and always start their conversations with me by asking me whether I'm back to work. Conversations have been awkward to say the least they go something like this: - So, are you back to work yet? - Not really, only some hours on Saturday - Oh so what do you do during the week? - I stay with Alex at home - Oh Silence. End of conversation. AWKWARD. Sometimes the conversation even ends earlier when I tell them I haven't gone back to work part-time like I used to. When this happens I can't help but wonder WHEN DID BEING A MOTHER BECOME DOING NOTHING?! Seriously, it feels like a social expectation, almost obligation, for me to go back to work as soon as Alex is older because otherwise what do I do with my time? Again, this is not to offend any working mothers out there whether by decision or obligation, this is just about my experience as someone who has decided to stay home and work only occasionally. I believe our current culture has devalued motherhood to such a degree that is not even considered a sort of work. But goodness it is! Unpaid work! At least monetarily. So yes I believe most people have completely missed the point of what work entails and definitely the hard work it is to be a mother. Now, I know some people work because we're not just mothers we're women with needs. I have felt that some people believe I need to go back to work to fulfill those needs because otherwise motherhood is simply not enough. Wrong again. I can have those needs fulfilled on my own time and with my the complete understanding that I need time to take care of self but also being realistic that taking care of self no longer involves hours and hours for me alone because Alex takes most of that time. If this post seems unorganized, well it probably is, as I'm still trying to wrap my head around my experiences and how they have made me feel. It has definitely been uncomfortable to say the least, and I can't help but feel judged at times. I'm sure some mothers out there can resonate with this. I'm grateful for the opportunity that I have to be both a mother and a therapist, but I cannot regret my decision to be first and foremost a mother. Yes, sometimes I would much rather be doing therapy as I know that would be easier than facing some of the difficult situations with Alex - like all this past week Alex teething= very tired, stressed out momma!- but I stick with it because he only has one mom and that's me! I feel the heavy responsibility of those words and while I know that I could be helping many people outside the walls of my home the truth is I know there are other people who can and will do that, Alex only has one mom and one dad. I feel the heavy burden but also the honor of having such a spot. So let there be pride in saying we're mothers and not out of obligation but because we chose to.

Healing arms

The idea for this post came to my mind about two weeks ago I just hadn't had the time, or made the time I guess to write it. I suddenly woke up around 8:30am with Alex's screams coming from his room, still very much sleepy I looked at the monitor and could not see him...I panicked. I immediately jumped out of bed and ran to his room, I found him in the corner of his crib with one of his legs stuck between the crib rails and him fighting to get out. My heart went out to him hoping he hadn't been fighting for too long before I heard him. He didn't see me at first as he was trying hard to get out - I have one determined and persistent baby boy:) - but as soon as he saw me I simply saw both his arms stretched out to me...needless to say this melted my heart. I got his leg unstuck and finally held him in my arms...he was crying hard at first, but soon settled down and gave me a huge smile. I knew then that there was no safer place for him than my arms, a hug from me was healing to him. I have been thinking about hugs lately, in these and many other cases arms seem to have a genuine healing power. What is it about an embrace that can make everything right so quickly? I thought about a couple of things. First, an embrace is warm; you can literally feel the other person's warmth when you are hugging, physically and emotionally. Second, an embrace is letting the other person in, it is quite the vulnerable moment as you allow to open -literally- yourself to the other person, vulnerability is healing in an of itself. Third, the person being hugged is allowing herself/himself to be vulnerable and feels safe doing so; it has happened to me that when I feel safe when hugging I start crying more because I feel I can let go. And finally, a hug is a big message of love and care; I know no one who can say they don't like to feel loved, everyone does and a hug achieves that very effectively. So yes, here I was hugging Alex when I understood why he immediately reached out his arms when he saw me. It has become even clearer to me the power of my arms whenever Alex is close to me. Not only because he is comforted in my arms, but because I am comforted in his. I feel it all, his warmth, he lets me in, I feel vulnerable, and I feel his love. Yes arms have magic powers, arms communicate more than our words. Yes arms are healing. Thank you little one for reminding me of this.