Trauma Parenting
my limits.
I try not to make decisions when I’m angry. It’s a work in progress. Sometimes I’m good at it, sometimes not so much. Hubby is mostly aware that he’s not great at it either, so he tells me to wait…
peace on earth.
It’s Christmas Eve. I may have forgotten if it had not been for the cops on my porch this morning who so kindly reminded me that, “everyone wants to be with their family today.” Ahhh, yes, that’s what I hear. …
ho ho ho.
It is no big secret that I am not a big Christmas fan. It is the gift thing. I like the giving of gifts part, it is the being on the receiving end that I can’t handle. The pressure to…
how old am I?
I had an interesting conversation with Mr. Gatsby last night about chronological age versus biological, or emotional age. I try often to attempt to help others around me understand trauma and the changes it makes to the body. I feel…
the lightbulb is missing.
I say several things at least 2-3 times a month that I find are applicable to many real life situations. First, stop looking for logic where there is none. This applies to most arguments with teenagers and/or hysterical people, along…
trippin’.
Monday. It’s my favorite day of the week. Started out great. House was quiet, baked a pie, prepped dinner, did some laundry. The biggest problem before noon was a broken Christmas tree bulb. Sweet! I’ll take it. As I’m curling…
my limits.
I try not to make decisions when I’m angry. It’s a work in progress. Sometimes I’m good at it, sometimes not so much. Hubby is pretty aware that he’s not great at it either, so he tells me to wait…
where there is smoke.
I struggled with writing this one. Likely because I don’t want to create a label for a kiddo. However, it is probably important for someone out there to know that this is something that happens. I know I really make…
thanksgiving.
We’ve made it to Thanksgiving. I’m not cooking, I haven’t cooked for Thanksgiving in several years. Instead, I place an order at BJ’s Catering and let them handle the job! So later this afternoon hubby and I will be heating…
all that and a bag of chips.
My 42nd child, (who doesn’t live with me and typically costs me the least amount of money), lovingly nicknamed “Century21” for blog purposes, started the day on the hunt for a missing bag of chips. His first problem here is…
