My kids have a lot of feelings about things and their feelings about things aren’t always easy. What’s more, I’ve been telling them since before they could talk that their feelings matter, that they have a right to share them and that I will (try to) listen. (Sometimes this is prevented by the need to, for example, merge into traffic on the freeway since both my kids have this uncanny ability to bring up heavy topics when I am most distracted.) For the most part, this has worked out. My kids are fluent speakers of the often complex language of feelings, which means that I can help them process events and that they are able to problem-solve for themselves when something isn’t working for them. They are also compassionate kids and I’m not just saying that.

But there’s a flip to this, which is my god, sometimes I want to outlaw feelings. Stupid feel good seventies! I grew up on Sesame Street and their “sad, mad, glad” sketches and it shows! See, back in the alleged good old days, kids didn’t feel — they stuffed those feelings! They stuffed ‘em and grew up to be alcoholics and had unhappy marriages and ulcers but at least their mothers got a break, right?

There is no rest for the feeling-oriented mother. (Of course, mothers back in the day didn’t get to have feelings either; they just had Valium. Ask Betty Draper.)

Anyway, the feelings in my house? They are flying so thick that I can barely walk through the kitchen without knocking into one of them. I am processing with my kids every time I turn around. I am looking into their eyes with compassion and good listening skills several times a day and I am tired. There’s one kid on the cusp of adolescence and one kid still working out her little brother’s arrival and it’s a lot, let me tell you.

Besides wearing me down and making me old before my time, I also sometimes worry that all of this respect for feelings creates feelings. I know that’s not true (Sesame tells me that’s not true) but sometimes I hear other people’s voices ringing in my ears and these voices say, “If you’d ignore it, maybe it would go away. Maybe you’re coddling all of those feelings.” This is partly because that’s the kind of the message that we send each other (the collective we) and partly because these feelings are hard and I do wish they’d go away. Not that I want my kids to stuff how they feel — I just wish their feelings were all happy. All happiness, all the time. Go away bad feelings! Missing someone? Feeling lonely? Worried about tomorrow? Have a cookie! Have a drink! Pop a pill! Watch tv!

Ok, so maybe not quite the good old days.

Abby and I talked at length about this over the weekend because Abby is the same kind of feelings junkie that I am and you know, her kids are needy in the same way mine are. I said, “I don’t see other parents going through XYZ — do you think we’re creating it?” And she said, “I don’t think those parents are allowing it. If we allow it, then it’s going to come out. If we don’t allow it, it won’t stop it — it’ll just stop coming out.”

I think she’s right.

Noah is turning out swell so far (knock wood) and so I thought I’d be a more confident parent the second time around and for the most part I am. But every kid is different and every kid has their own personal path and you know, I revisit my decisions a lot more than I thought I would. I needed the encouragement Abby gave me to stay strong and keep on lending words to my kids when they can’t find their own instead of giving in to the siren song of the loving brush-off that goes like this, “Oh you are fine! Now run along and find yourself something to do!”

(I remember having horrible, gut-wrenching worries in kindergarten and they were as real and as insomnia-producing as my fully-fledged adult worries are now. I imagine it’s the same way for my kids even when their worries and fears seem small.)

It’s hard. It’s really hard to always be there and to listen without getting discouraged or impatient or annoyed or so sad that I try to run away from what they’re saying. It’s hard to listen without judgment and reflect back what they’re saying and carefully couch suggestions to help them find their own way out. It’s hard not to give unasked for advice. It’s hard not to say, “If you’d only…” or “Why can’t you…” It’s just hard. Parenting is hard. Parenting, unfortunately, is not for sissies.

• The baby shower was awesome due in no small part to the hard work of this blogger (who rescued me in more ways than one starting with her pointed empathy and shower game take-over), and this blogger (who called up and said, “Are you totally stressed? What do you need me to do? Never mind, I’m bringing food!”) and my sister (who made prizes and notecards) and OF COURSE Carmen at Surly Girl who emailed me and said she would take care of everything so stop worrying!!! Also? Cupcakes! Surly Girl cupcakes are the best ever!!! Oh and Carmen? Took one look at my panicked face and brought me over a blueberry lemonade drink of some kind that took the edge right off, lemme tell YOU.
• More baby shower awesomeness included the arrival of Thorn and Lee who I really need to see more because I think I love them. Also getting to see Pennie’s friends again, who I’ve technically known as long as I’ve known Pennie (we met them all the same day), especially Sam, who is lovely and is Madison’s designated BabyDaddy, so christened by Pennie. (I love that!)
• Pennie was gorgeous (see pic below) and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her in a dress! She carries her pregnancies well even though she is about tired of being pregnant.
• More goodness from the internet came via presents from Susan (whose gracious gifts choked Pennie up seeing as how unexpected they were), Julia (who whipped up a  beautiful baby blanket, no problem and included a fancy bracelet for Madison, which was much appreciated!) and Suz (who may have sent the high chair to the wrong address but whose encouragement is extra-laden with love).
• Click pics for bigness!

Thanks to all who weighed in (on blog and off) about grad school. It’s kind of a moot point since I’m not in a position to go for a fellowship right now (because I still need to make money) and I wouldn’t go to grad school if I had to pay for it. But it’s a maybe someday kind of thing. Hearing that I may not need that degree to do what I want was encouraging. I know that if my book sells that this will go a long way to building my career, which is one reason I want to write it. I want to get to the next stage in my life as a writer and I feel like having a book is the next stage. I’m not thinking much beyond this proposal (because I want to revel in the experience of having one out) but I am thinking about what I can be doing to support that proposal (and my interest in adoption) and help me grow into other projects if that book doesn’t sell.

Here’s some stuff in my head right now:

1. Brett’s doing the taxes and I made more than I thought last year. Although I was technically full-time freelance, I was really working part-time and I made a very nice income for a part-time worker. That made me feel much better about things. What hurt us was that when I went full-time in 2007, I wasn’t making enough at all and we ran through the cushion we’d built to support us while I got things up and running. Then when clients paid out late in 2008, we had no cushion and went into debt and I didn’t make enough to pay ourselves and pay back that debt so Brett had to go to work. But I was short by much less than I thought — we are not as bad off as I feared.
2. I had coffee with Alicia who had encouragement and good advice about doing workshops. She knows whereof she speaks since she gave me my first workshop gig. I left our meeting more excited!
3. In my continuing critique of the past year, I realized that all of my jobs came via networking. ALL OF THEM. None came from marketing/cold calling/warm calling. So I’m going to work on developing my connections and let word-of-mouth bring me work. In other words, I’m going to fret less and trust more (having Brett at work to pay the regular bills gives me the freedom to do this). And with the cushion that is Brett, I won’t take work that I don’t want this year.
4. Some of last year’s mistakes were necessary so that I could figure out what I was doing, like joining too many networking groups because I bought into the “it’s a numbers game” message even though I don’t like networking. I’m good at relationships and I’ve done better by focusing on relationships and easing up on the glad-handing strangers. Lesson learned. Of course I had to spend a lot of money and time to find it out and because I’d invested so much money and time, it took me longer than it should. (I kept trying to make it work, going to lunches and brunches and coffees and spending a lot of money on business cards that I gave away and that only got me on other people’s pitch lists.)

I have not, by any stretch, closed shop. I’m still here slugging away but having Brett bring home a paycheck is giving me room to put to work what I learned in the past year.

I am very grateful to Brett. (I should probably tell him that.)

Now that 2008 is over, I will say cautiously that it was a good year, even the terrible last quarter. Because sometimes a person has to fall flat on her face to look back and see what was tripping her up.

I am feeling very hopeful.

(Seriously — having that number there in black and white and knowing that I earned it on my own, flying free has gone a long way to making me feel better about it all.)

I’m at a place where I need to stop and reorient myself and figure out what the heck I’m doing and it’s not been easy. I met with someone today and started out thinking I was going to have to resign myself to a certain situation but she asked enough pointed questions that I ended up all trembling and tearful confessing that I don’t know what in the heck to do next but that the way I’m doing things now isn’t really working the way I want it to. So she gave me a sound (but loving) talking to and reminded me of what I really wanted out of this great freelancing gig I’ve been working on. She shook her finger at me and shook her head and patted me on the back when I needed it. Plus she bought lunch because I was pitiful. (Honestly — we agreed that this was so. I was a little pitiful.)

Having mentors is a great blessing especially, I think, for women who have some extra things to overcome. (Like the number of people who think I’m freelancing as a hobby. You know, until my husband gets a real job.)

One of the hardest things in the world for me is to accept help when I don’t have something to trade to make it all even. It makes me feel guilty and vulnerable and like I need to scurry away and hide somewhere. But there are a couple of women in my life (Julia being one, Chris being the other and the one who bought me lunch today) who just won’t let me reject their support and encouragement. I want to be them someday, which is as a good a reason as any to hang in there, right? Because this freelancing thing? It can be ugly and competitive and people will sell you out so if you don’t have some folks who are there to cheer you on, it’s easy to become overwhelmed. And man, I’ve been feeling disoriented and overwhelmed and ready to throw in the towel.

But they won’t let me quit. They believe in me when I’m having trouble believing in myself. (sniff)