Needing Comfort

Hello. I just spent 20 minutes sitting in the sun in front of my house. (Have to get that vitamin-D in case I get Covid again.) I find I like looking at grass. And trees. And shadows of trees.

I’ve learned that the best comfort comes from things I really liked as a little girl. The birds chirping high above everything; the sunshine on my skin; the sound of leaves rustling; shadows dancing across the lawn. My summers growing up were spent jumping on the trampoline, imitating hawk calls, eating fruit fresh off the trees, and running through the clown-head sprinkler with my little brother.

I still call my mom when I’m having a hard day—not looking for advice or even a place to vent. I call to hear her voice. My mom’s voice comforts me even when I can’t talk about what’s wrong. It occurs to me that I’m that for my kids now.

Last night I told my son that he did really well and that I’m so proud of him. He lit up and (in uncharacteristic seriousness) told me, “Mom, that is so important for me to hear. Thank you.” And then that quiet moment slipped away as he remembered a new Bo Burnham song on YouTube that he was dying to show me.

I haven’t always been great at giving my kids comfort. We crashed into this CHD world at full speed (with twins). We had 4 kids in diapers. Surgeries, cath-labs, appointments. It was hard and I did things I couldn’t do. (That four-toned pulse/ox alarm is permanently stuck in my brain.) I barely slept.

There are things I regret. I wish I had enlisted more helpers to be with my heart baby during those times that she lived in the ICU. I wish I hadn’t seen my older kids as resources to help take care of the younger kids. (This is called parentification.) I was doing my best and I thought I was killing it. I was so busy. I was so hurt.

I was taught to correct your children and then show love afterwards. Turns out that’s backwards. And abusive. It teaches kids they aren’t worth loving until they do exactly what you want. It teaches children that they are worthless inside. It teaches children to ignore their feelings and be the child who doesn’t cause problems.

Connect before you correct.

That simple parenting advice would have saved my family so much pain. I thought I needed everything to go exactly as planned. I had no time for my kids to be angry or lazy or scared. They kept showing up with ideas of their own. Ideas different than mine.

I could have said, “Oh wow, that IS a cool bug. Where did you find it? Come outside with me and tell me all about it.” Rather than repeating, “No bugs in the house, get it out!” Connect before you correct.

I don’t know where you are in your journey, but stuff like this matters, too. I’m happy for your joys and empathetic of your tears. Please reach out for extra comfort when you need it.

I want you to know that you are doing a good job….and I am proud of you.

This week I hope to post a light version of Tetralogy of Fallot (ToF). I also want to update to a summer header—maybe something with rainbows to honor pride month. If you have any good summer hearts or summer baby pics, please share them with me. I’d love to see your beautiful heart warriors. (Here or on facebook/twitter.)

♥ Be good to each other ♥