I was wondering what to post this year – and I found that I’ve done quite a few bits already and would probably wind up just repeating myself!! Plus the weather’s so lovely, y’know, at this very moment, so I really do want to get to the beach… (#practicewhatipreachetc)
So – if you’re in a reading /bookmarking-then-running-away mood here are links to my most recent “Happy Mothers Day – or maybe not??” on Family FriendlyHQ and “Are you a good enough mother?”) which you may have read before if you been signed up to my blog since last year. In both, particularly the latter, you’ll find links to others – all for the day that’s in it.
“I have ignored all the shelves – the ones I’d usually stop at – and ignored the adverts online and on the TV. If only my online searches could restrict Mother’s Day content, sure don’t they know everything about us? They listen in, yet, apparently, they haven’t heard that my mum is dead”.
A heartfelt, gorgeous piece.
Or maybe you’d rather just lie down after a feed of icecream??
What to do… what to do…
I’d imagine myself ruminating over the same thing if I had a daughter with ‘the tattoo itch’. But then being someone who has veered (well, purposefully steered) down the tattoo route herself I might be something of a big oul’ hypocrite if I were to dodge a conversation about this one.
So I organised my thoughts and wrote this for Family Friendly HQ – click if this is relevant to you – and if it is – good luck!#
I regularly receive calls from distraught parents who cannot make sense of their child’s anger. Over the years, personal as well as professional experience has taught me that rage is often – if not usually – a cover for fear, sadness and grief.
An effective one at that!
So I wrote this piece for FamilyFriendlyHQ and maybe it will assist you in deciphering your child’s anger. Especially so if you’ve had a recent bereavement or loss. It might even assist in understanding your own anger – after all, we’re all adult-sized children!
Click on the pic to read the article:
Christmas has a way of jerking those tears right out of us doesn’t it? It’s a time where the pressure to be happy is really on – HO HO HO! Jeepers. It’s a cheer fest, that’s for sure. One that would make the calmest people want to gouge their own eyes out if they are also trying to cope with feeling of loss and loneliness. Feelings that don’t “match” with how we are ‘supposed’ to feel Christmas.
What strikes me this week is how quietly it’s slipping by, we’re nearly in November. And not much has been said. Is it par for the course? Child loss is one of those things we don’t talk about – that women (and men) often “bear” in stoic silence and secret, private agony. One would think, given the referendum and outpouring of grief and concern for women and their babies that there would have been more said this month. Or maybe it’s because so much has already been said – maybe there is a collective compassion fatigue? Are we just exhausted from it? Because loss is exhausting, there’s no doubt about that. Or maybe there are just too many other things going on this month – it certainly has been busy in the media.
There’s a “syndrome” called ACOA – are you familiar with it? It means Adult Child of Alcoholic, or, as experience has taught me, Adult (or teen) Child of any Addict.
I came across it years ago, before I trained actually. Before I really understood what alcoholism was, or how common it is. I was lucky, I know. Since then I’ve learned how the idea of ACOA as a collection of “habits” really helps to explain a lot of the thought patterns and behaviours that thousands of adults experience and struggle with every day – every hour maybe. And the people who love them struggle too.
I have a friend – well, I know and admire a woman who might yet be a friend – and this morning I woke to find an email from her in my inbox, with a recording attached. She’s a journalist and normally an email from her means she’s writing a piece and is interested in my professional opinion on the topic. We’ve been back and forth-ing for a couple of years and, as you do, we’ve been rearranging the boundaries a little more each time.