Every Mother Has Cassandra Complex

In case you've never heard of her, here's what Wikipedia has to say about Cassandra, "[according to] Greek mythology, Cassandra was a daughter of Priam, the King of Troy. Struck by her beauty, Apollo provided her with the gift of prophecy, but when Cassandra refused Apollo's romantic advances, he placed a curse ensuring that nobody would believe her warnings. Cassandra was left with the knowledge of future events, but could neither alter these events nor convince others of the validity of her predictions".

In case you haven't realized it yet, if you're a mom, this is you. Not that our status as Mom gives us the gift of prophesy, per se, however, our life experiences have imbued us with knowledge of actions and consequences, and human behavior in general. We may understand that the boy who is picking on our daughter probably has a crush on her, or that the girl who is excluding her may be reacting to her own fears of being excluded, but nothing we can say will make our children understand that the way we do. Things that roll right off your back as an adult can be truly devastating as a child. It's really tough to have to watch your child experience these hurts for the first time and know that there's nothing you can do to stop it or assuage her grief.

I haven't experienced this too much yet, but I know I'm in for it big time. They say when you become a mom, you get paid back in kind for the way you behaved as a child. When I was a little girl, my oldest brother, Steven, was about to graduate high school the year before I started Kindergarten. (I know, poor mom! She got one out and another just started!) and he took me aside and gave me some sage advice. He said, "When I was a kid, people told me I was stupid, and I believed them. Don't ever let anyone tell you you're stupid." He meant, of course, that I shouldn't let people tell me lies about myself, but, being that I was only five, I took it quite literally, and anytime anyone told me I was stupid I told them they were wrong. I stood up for myself and never, ever believed I was stupid. I wish I had understood the broader meaning, and not allowed others to tell me I was ugly, trashy or worthless, which are beliefs I held until I was in high school. 

I kept all the diaries I ever had, starting with the first one I ever got, in fifth grade. When I went back recently and read through some of them, the one I kept in 8th grade had a lot of musings in it like, "My mom keeps giving me stupid advice about how to get boys to like me," - that's what I thought of my mom's advice, it was all "stupid". In retrospect, my mother had some very wise advice, not just about boys, but life in general that I never, ever listened to. I simply sat in my room and cried when people were mean to me, instead of standing up for myself. I vividly remember the first time someone other than my mom told me I was pretty; it was my Freshman year in high school and I had gone back to the middle school to visit my 8th grade English teacher, Mrs. Lopez. I was walking with her down the hall and she kept looking at me and finally said, "Elizabeth, I have to say, you were always pretty, but you have gotten so much prettier over the summer!" I was abashed and said thanks, and I have never forgotten it. 

Why did I believe my brother when he told me I was smart, but not my mom when she told me I was pretty? She'd been telling me that since before I can remember. All I can assume is that my thought was that mothers are obligated to love, and love is blind, and so mom can't possibly know whether or not I'm pretty. 

I'm dreading the time when my eldest, Bella, comes home crying because some mean kid told her some lie about herself. I will hug her and wipe her tears and tell her all the same things my mom told me, and she won't believe a word of it. I'm going to have to let her fall and hurt herself, skin her knees and get emotionally bruised, because, as a Cassandra Mom, she will never believe me when I tell her differently. I guess, when that day comes, I will call my mom and cry with her over the phone, and ask for some more advice that I finally understand is not "stupid", but wise, and helpless in the face of her child's pain. 

Learning the Ropes...Again

Vivienne and Isabella, April 2013

It's been about a month and a half since I started staying home with my two daughters, on purpose this time. I was a stay at home mommy for 13 months when I was unemployed between February 2010 and March 2011. I had all but given up hope of getting another job when I was hired to work for Texas PTA as the Communications Coordinator. Working for a non-profit really changed my perspective of what I do for a living. Instead of looking at things from a sales perspective, I was using my talents to work toward a goal, which seems so much more self-actualizing. I loved working there but after Vivienne was born it became a lot harder to afford daycare, and then when the tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut happened in December 2012 I developed separation anxiety and I began feeling like I needed to start spending my time with my children instead of at an office while someone else raises them. This is not to say that I feel judgement for anyone who chooses to work, I just really, very fervently wanted to be the one to raise my children, see all their milestones and teach them their first lessons in life. This is my passion, just as some people's passions are their careers.

It has been interesting so far, Bella is much more advanced than she was when I started back to work, she talks incessantly and has a wild imagination that is very entertaining for all of us! I am trying to teach her the alphabet and she has the classic bright-child problem where if she doesn't know the answer to a question she will make one up. When I point to a letter and ask her, "What letter is this?" if she doesn't know it, she will make up some inventive new letters like "Key", "Co", "Bo" and "Bum". Vivi just sprouted her first tooth, and when she's not teething is just about the sweetest natured, mild mannered, easy-going child anyone could ask for. Whenever I'm feeling overwhelmed or exhausted I can just pick her up and hold her and her serenity seeps into me and calms me down.

I hope that this blog will be the personal side of my professional blog, and I expect to be able to write more often now that I'm staying home with my sweet babies. Thanks for stopping by!