A Happy Life

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I’m still trying to figure out the nuances of me.  I know that sounds strange.

But in fact, just the other day, I discovered that I can focus much better in complete silence.  It’s not that I didn’t already know this about myself; after all, I spent eight years of post-Secondary education in quiet libraries, but I’ve just recently learned to articulate this fact.  No wonder my study days in Mt. Pleasant’s Second Cup required earplugs.  How unusual that I never noticed this quiet=focus effect on myself.

I’m emotional.  I’m sensitive.  I see colours when I read words, especially people’s names.  I am a homebody.  I love to travel, often, but for short periods of time.  I have a semi-photographic memory, especially for the written word.  I am interested in real estate and architecture.  I have a spatial mind.  I communicate best through writing.  I only like camping if someone else is doing the work.  I love yoga and spirituality and self-reflection.  I need fresh air and an elevated heart rate daily.

These are all revelations that I’ve had in my adult life.  I’m 36 years old and I’m still figuring out me.  And the reason I’m telling you this?

  1. My blog is an extension of my professional self.  The doctor-patient relationship is built on trust and this outlet is how you can get to know me. (This is Me.)
  2. These revelations have affected my parenting, and hey, I like to write about parenting.

How has it affected my parenting, you ask?  Well, thank you for asking, you’re playing along nicely.  You see, as a teen I often overheard people talk about “figuring out who they are” and I didn’t quite understand what that meant.  I heard people talk about “figuring out who they are” at University, “figuring out who they are” through travel, “figuring out who they are” through sport.  I did all of those things, and yet I still couldn’t define myself, my role, my reason.  These revelations seem to have come to me later in life than most of my peers, or perhaps I’m just late in learning the vocabulary associated with soul-searching and self-contemplation.

As such, lately I’ve been talking to my children about “who they are.”  We’ve been chatting about things they like, things they don’t, things that are/aren’t important to them, and their hopes and dreams.  I’ve been trying to give them the verbiage of introspection, to open up their childhood minds to the language of what characterizes them, and makes them proud to be unique and special.  To be themselves, whomever those selves may be.

For now, my job is to give them opportunities to learn.  I see each exposure to something new as a chance for personal growth.  That’s why we spend our Summers traipsing around Southern Ontario and our Winters at every event within an hour’s drive.  We go to see monster trucks and rodeos and conservation areas and waterfalls and baseball games and theatres and ceramic studios and Teen Tour Band concerts and beaches and outdoor rinks.  We show them the world and try to help them figure out their role in this wonderful community of life.

I posted this on my Facebook Page a few days ago: “I really think a happy life is about balancing all of your favourite things.  Lower the stressors you have control over and prioritize the things that you love.”  And how are they to know the things that they love if I don’t give them the tools to discover that?

“Happiness results from the possession or attainment of what one considers good.”

And it seems to me that if you figure out your good, you will figure out your happy.

 

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Religion and Politics

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I’ve been writing this blog regularly for more than three years now.  And I have yet to write about religion or politics.  The best way to ruin a dinner party?  Talk about religion or politics.  This also applies to blogs.  However, I saw an image floating around online that really made an impression on me, so I thought I’d share it here:

pope francis

I went to church regularly throughout my childhood, my husband is a Catholic schoolteacher, and I certainly believe in a higher power.  But for the last few years I’ve been struggling to actually make it inside a church on a Sunday.  With a young family and the demands of a busy life, carving out a couple of hours on a Sunday morning seems a bit too much to handle.

Sunday mornings are often spent cheering on my husband at his touch football games, going to the gym, or heading out for a family walk in the trails.  They are spent doing things that nurture my spirit, but not within the traditional four walls of a church setting.

I’m a kind person.  I raise my kids to be kind people.  For now, our ‘church’ is our daily life; our friends, our family, our activities, our backyard.  Our church is welcoming to all and nurturing to our hearts and minds.  Our church has music and laughter and love; a whole lotta love.

And it makes me happy.

Preach.

Are you Happy, Mommy?

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My little girl, who is a month shy of three years old, is sugary-sweet and firecracker combined into a 30-lb package.  My hopes and dreams for her span far and wide.  She’s taught me things that no one else could.  She thinks I hung the moon.  She’s a “Mommy’s girl” through and through.

Lately, she’s been asking me this question a lot:

“Are you happy, Mommy?”

Usually it gets asked after her or her brother have been disciplined.  Sometimes she asks me in the darkness of the night, when her little voice has called me to take her to the bathroom.  But once in a while it’s an out-of-the-blue, regular conversation question.

Most of the time, my answer is yes.  And it’s a genuine yes; I’m blessed to live a happy life.  But sometimes the answer is no.  No, I’m not happy that you just had a temper tantrum about which pants to wear.  Or threw your fork across the room.  Or hit your brother.  In those instances, I explain that I’m not happy about what’s just happened.  But what about the times when I’m just having a tough day and she can read it on my face?

From time to time, I struggle with my answer.  Her bright eyes peer at me, her head tilts, her concerned brow questions.  Am I happy?

  • Do I shield her two-year-old heart from negative emotion and keep her safe and secure in a world of only happiness and good outcomes?
  • Or do I show her the real-life stuff and teach her that emotions, both good and bad, can ebb and flow?

I choose the latter.

I think it’s important that children see their parents be sad and disappointed and frustrated.  Upset.  Worried.  Troubled.  And yes, even angry.  But I think it’s even more important that children see their parents handle these emotions constructively.

My kids see me cry.

My kids see me get excited.

My kids see me yell.

My kids see me laugh.

Emotion is a part of life, so it is the process of learning to deal with that emotion that will serve them well.

“Are you happy, Mommy?”

Yes, my sweet girl, more than you’ll ever know.

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