My kids thought I was crazy at first. They called me a “crazy oil lady” and asked me if I was going to become “antivax”. The older ones even protested my suggestions to use oils at first. And I get it. Oils really? I thought it was weird when I first heard of them too. I mean NO ONE around me used them growing up or even in college or as a young mom. Even now I struggle to find other local Essential Oil Enthusiasts. It didn’t help the kids perceptions that I made the decision to dive into essential oils during the midst of grief after my mom died. Get ready, I’m gonna go deep in this one.
A lot was different about me while I was first trying to adjust to losing my mom and my kids just thought these oils were another weird new behavior and phase I was going through. I knew it wasn’t.
It had taken me a while to realize I needed essential oils in my life. I only became aware of essential oils in the last ten years and dismissed them at first. But when a friend you trust offers you relief when you are suffering and desperate you’ll try almost anything. That’s how it played out for me. I went to church even though I was suffering from lingering migraines on the regular. I had one in particular that had lasted a couple of days and nothing was touching it. My friend had dealt with something similar and offered to share her essential oil roller blend with me. When I said okay, she whipped that sucker out of her purse and said, “Here. Put it on your temples, neck, and wrists.” So, I did. I’m not kidding you. The migraine I had carried with me at varying intensities for a couple of days was gone before the service was over. I couldn’t believe it. It was like a miracle.
That, however, wasn’t even enough for me to dive in. That same friend helped me again a couple of years later with another roller blend for my neck. I couldn’t believe how fast I got relief! I was intrigued but I had relief and I went on with the day to day hustle. My next exposure was actually at a workshop for work. The presenter shared the benefits of essential oils for use with older adults. We passed around different oils, smelled them, learned the different ways to apply them and about some of their benefits. Suddenly, they weren’t weird anymore and I wondered why I wasn’t using them. All of that still wasn’t enough for me to jump in.
What did get me to jump all in you wonder? Grief. It was grief.
My sisters and I had just spent an intense amount of time caring for my mom through lung cancer to death. The burdens were heavy but processing the emotions and the loss afterwards was worse. Suddenly, I couldn’t compose myself. I couldn’t focus on my work. I was exhausted from the roller coaster of emotions. I had no patience and just wanted to be alone. I wasn’t sleeping and I lost 20lbs. I was depressed and I knew it.
I had experienced postpartum depression after my oldest was born and I have several family members who struggle with depression. I had even completed an internship working with clients with depression in college. I know the signs, I know what it looks like. I know what it feels like.
I sought a counselor who was super helpful and helped me gain perspective and insight. She recognized that counseling wasn’t going to be enough. She asked me to consider talking to my doctor about antidepressants. I knew that was coming….that suggestion. I also knew I didn’t want to take it. My close family members who I knew had tried antidepressants didn’t have much success or they lived with personality changes and side effects that I didn’t want to deal with. I know that antidepressants work for lots of people. I’ve seen them work. I just hadn’t seen them work in my bloodline. I also know that it can take a while to find the right antidepressant. I couldn’t handle the thought of having to deal with all those trial and error scenarios. I decided that I’d rather deal with the devil I knew rather than the one I didn’t and keep struggling. What I felt I really needed was time and space but I couldn’t get it. I had to go back to the high pressures of my job and taking care of my four girls. I didn’t want to let them or anyone down and I kept pushing myself but that was making it worse.
I decided I needed to do some more intentional self-care and so I finally got an essential oils starter kit. I was thinking about relaxing baths and sound sleep. That was a place to start right? While I was waiting for the kit to arrive I was introduced to a whole essential oils community that I never new existed. I read the descriptions of oils and their benefits and I discovered that other people used them to help with their mood and emotions. I couldn’t wait to try them now! I had such positive experiences in the past that I knew this was the right direction for me.
I was right! I’m using essential oils in my daily life in many ways now. The essential oils have not absolved me of grief or cured my depression. They’ve given me time and space. The essential oils effect my mood just enough to take the edge off or motivate me. I’ve been able to feel peace and joy. I now feel like life will be good again instead of just knowing it will be.
So I may go crazy for oils (and geek out a little) but its only because they work for me and my family. And by the way, my girls ask for them now:) I’ll claim this joy!
This is not medical advice for anyone. I recommend you do what is right for your situation in consultation with your doctors and counselors. This is just the retelling of my journey.
Depression and thoughts of suicide are real struggles. If you are dealing with these very real feelings I encourage you to seek help.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255 #SuicideAwareness
Locally, Call CONNECT at 800-284-8898.
I bet you are jumping into this post thinking I’m going to make claims about how awful, filthy, and germy, bathtub toys are. They are filthy and germy, don’t get me wrong. Have you ever cut one of those plastic things with the squirter hole open? YUCK! Soak those suckers in thieves cleaner! But I digress. This post isn’t about the germy bath tub toys. It’s about grief! Yes grief!
I walked into the “little girls room” and had a seat. I looked up and across from me was the brown monkey bathtub toy container. You know the vat that holds all the germy toys till the next bath. I looked up and all the sudden I realized that I couldn’t remember the last time it had been used. I had moved it around more times than I could count to clean but the toys hadn’t actually floated in a bath in forever. Then it hit me. NO MORE BATHTUB TOYS.
My youngest wasn’t interested in playing with bath toys anymore. It was time to throw them out. And so I cried. I couldn’t help it. The reason I kept them around was because they had brought her so much joy. I could still see the sweet smiles. But now ….no more bubble baths, no more abc’s on the wall, no more adventures with the little wind up mermaid. I actually sobbed over the little germ infested things. I was grieving my kids infant and toddler stages. I guess maybe the three times before it was no biggie. I got baby fever and was just like hey honey let’s make another baby. Not this time though. Four c-sections is more than enough and we are not prepared to foster or adopt. So NO MORE BATHTUB TOYS.
I was sad for a bit but then I did that thing I do. I started searching for the bright side. I started to searching for the benefits. There is the obvious….I don’t have to clean or move those suckers around anymore. But I didn’t really mind that as much as it sounds. I just kept thinking, “it’s the end of an era for me and Cory”. Then poof! Epiphany! We have all the other “eras” to go through still! Nothing is over, it's just evolved and there are good, fun, and joyful things in every era of parenthood. So I will treasure the bubble face smiles in memories while I relish the joys of the current eras. So no more bathtub toys, HALLELUJAH! I’ll claim that joy!
I worry that I’m getting it wrong with the kids. I understand that’s a fairly common Mama concern. Some days feel like such a battle. At times it feels like every interaction with them is negative. When you enforce boundaries they complain and whine and stomp off as if they are living the worst life ever. Ask them to do chores and the sky is certainly falling. Apparently, I am the only parent that asks their child to do the dishes or clean the bathroom. But we parent on, reminding perfectly capable children daily to clean up after themselves, load the dishwasher and be kind to each other. The other phrase we continue to repeat is: “If you start your laundry you have to keep it going. It’s not done until it’s dry and in your room.”
I know you feel me Mamas and Daddys. We weren’t perfectly compliant as teenagers either though, remember. We didn’t follow instructions every time our parents told us to do something? We pitched fits and threw eye rolls. We went to our brother or sister and told them Mom wanted them to do a chore she had really asked us to do. Sorry Dee:). We started the dishwasher when it was half full sometimes to say we did it. I guess I shouldn’t worry too much. I turned out okay after all.
Reminding myself what it was like to be a kid and teenager helps me get a more realistic perspective. Then I can stop all the what if and worry thought.
What really brings me peace, though, is when I notice that we got it right.
For years I’ve partially censored what my kids would listen to on the radio. The “rule” I go by is that if I don’t want to hear it coming out of their mouth then we don’t listen to it. I don’t do that so much with the teens now but they also have come to understand as they had more freedom that what goes into the ears eventually comes out of the mouth. Needless to say if you follow that “rule” you flip radio stations A LOT. Scanning for stations gets old after awhile and so we would “just leave it here” on the 80’s, 90’s, and today station or spiritfm. If we don't do that then we put in one of our cd’s or upload a playlist. My husband particularly loved when we only played Disney soundtracks for the 12 hour drive down to see the mouse (this is sarcasm in case you don’t know us personally). My kids definitely have preferred the pop stations and songs with words and phrases I don’t want to hear them sing and so there are still complaints and groans but overall we find a happy medium.
Recently, one of my teens was struggling through something. I don’t always get to know what it is now that they are older. They keep some things to themselves. I get it. I did the same thing. I could tell that she was sad. She seemed to be trying to understand the why’s in life. I’m generally worried that they will put their clouded teenage perspectives on situations and struggle more but in this particular case, I didn’t worry. Cory and I had gotten it right. She was walking through the room with her headphones on and she didn’t know we could hear what she was listening to. It was When the Rain Comes by Third Day.
If all the fuss and station scanning was leading up to just that one moment it was worth it. When she was feeling down she went to a song she knew, that brought her peace, and offered her meaning and comfort. I’m gonna claim that joy!
Yea. I finally understand it, the midlife crisis. AND, it is not an ailment of 40-50 something white men buying sports cars and trading their wives in like 80’s movies portrays. Although it might be a 1st world problem.
The "crisis" did come on a lot earlier than I expected.
When I was younger, I used to get the JCPenny catalogue out (you know that giant one) and star all the things I wanted in my bedroom. That dreaming grew into planning the ways I would decorate when I had my own house. I dreamt like others of being successful at a job I loved. I’d plan an amazing wedding to a wonderful husband. We'd be rich of course. We would plan how many kids we’d have. I would be an awesome a mom to those bazzilion kids and it would be easy. Surely we’d take family vacations and be able to do, go, be, and have whatever we wanted.
I had to set goals and dreams as a kid. My family struggled. We always had a roof over our head but the conditions weren’t great. I always had clothes on my back but they were my mom’s or came from a friend. We always had food but it was purchased with food stamps. We always had Christmas but it never compared to my friends’.
I was determined to pursue a life that would be successful and free from financial struggle. So my expectations entering college didn’t change much. I thought I’d be successful at a job that I would easily and happily leave to be a stay at home mom in my big house. I’d spend my time going to fancy parties, volunteering, and baking. We’d bank a nice 401K. We’d take vacations whenever we wanted and go on mission trips. Every day would be blissful and happy. [insert eye roll here]
Then life happens, right, and it derails those dreams.Your ego is bruised. You don’t get that perfect job. It takes you three years to conceive that miracle. You realize there are too many things outside your control to achieve all those perfect dreams you planned and thought God had blessed. Some of my friends will read this and say well that sounds a lot like your life and others will say your life is blessed. It's true we have have achieved some of those things and we are blessed but I still find myself trying to reconcile my dreams with my realities. This takes an emotional toll on us.
I think the stupidest thing I thought is it would be easy. In my 20’s I could see those aspirations and they seem so attainable, so natural. I had so much heart and drive that it would be a cinch.
As you start pursing all those dreams you begin to discover that you don’t have as much control as you thought. You will have to work hard for some of it no matter how much heart you have; no matter how capable you are, you aren’t alone in those kinds of dreams. So you have to bob and weave or set and reset. You make hard decisions that push you further away from those dreams or you realize some of them might have been foolish to begin with.
You are plugging along doing the best you can day to day and BAM! There comes a time when you are hit smack in the face with the realization that you are not going to reach all those dreams and maybe you aren’t even on track to get there.
That’s it. Welcome to middle age. Now what?
Well, as in most things, the important part is how you respond. Will you ignore it and go on living the same day to day routine making no changes that will get you toward those dreams of old? Do you deny it by proving you can have all the control and do a little retail therapy, (aka buy a sports car) or do you reflect and adjust your course? How we respond at this point is critical in the long term toward our happiness. The way I look at it I can linger in the disappointments and become bitter or I can be hopeful in the new possibilities.
I choose to be hopeful in the new possibilities. I am reflecting and trying to readjust. This takes more than planning. You can’t just reset your course. In these 40 years (yes 40 #hariflip) I’ve learned so much about myself. For instance, I am a better mom because I work. I don’t need a big house. What I really want is a little family homestead. Having all those things from the JCPenny catalogue ….not important. I want experiences over things. I didn’t know any of that when I was in my 20’s. What is important to me and those things I dream of now are different than they were 20 years ago.I understand that I wasn’t ever really looking for success. I was searching for happiness.
So I finally understand it, the middle age crisis. Only for me I wouldn’t call it a crisis. It’s been an epiphany.
Happiness is something we all want and think we understand.
As children happiness comes naturally and is easy to recognize. It is measured in smiles and laughs, jumping, squealing, and hugs. Joy sees somehow less sought after. I think it’s often equated to happiness or considered an elated version of happiness and something we sing about at Christmas.
My youngest daughter has taught me that there is a real and distinct difference between happiness and joy. In utero, she was the most active mover. I nicknamed her hummingbird. (Recently we have been lovingly calling her hurricane.) As she grew from infant to toddler, though, she bubbled with joy. It wasn’t happiness, it was joy. I may have noticed it more with her since I’m sentimental about relishing the moments with our last little one. I’ve got no babies coming up behind her. I really think, though, that she has been blessed with an innate ability to be joyful.
Her joy is the infections kind. Just look at her with that lollipop. I remember this day, vividly. It’s the day I understood there was a true difference between happiness and joy.
It was time to redo our family photo. Everyone had grown up so much since the last. I ended up booking with this awesome photographer. It was the first time I had done it this way. Prior to this, we went and got the stiff ones made at Sears. Boy that sounds antiquated. It really wasn’t that long ago. The photographer was great and kind and patient with us and the four girls. Not only did we get a family picture but each of the girls had their own photoshoot. BONUS! It didn’t cost much more than we used to pay at Sears. We all had fun with it.
As you can see, Natalie was not quite two and a half. She was still an active hummingbird and she was still a toddler. She was growing tired of taking pictures and waiting. In a desperate attempt for a smile, I reached into my purse and grabbed a lollipop for her. Thank goodness I stuck lollipops into my purse! Her favorite thing in the world was a lollipop. When we opened it up and gave it to her she relished her own moment. She took that sucker and enjoyed the heck out of it. You can see the joy in her face as she lifted that lollipop up.
I treasure the picture.s It’s a reminder to me that joy is almost tangible. It’s a moment that can be pin pointed or spontaneous, instigated or a surprise, and remembered. Joy can penetrate sadness.
To us, happiness is the feeling resulting from experiencing joy. Happiness is the emotional outcome felt in a moment and realized in retrospect. Joy doesn’t seem significant in the moment though it is enjoyable. However, string it together and the more moments of joy a person experiences, the happier they are. Collective moments of joy is happiness.
Joy is the reason anyone is happy which means that everyone can be happy. If joy is tangible then we can reach for it. We only need to recognize it and relish it. We need to claim the moment to collect it. I want to look back and realize my happiness. I want to string my moments of joy together? Do you? Let’s travel this journey together.
