amber rahim

Chronic illness: the parts we don't talk about

Category Archives: Family


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The lessons we learn from our children

I saw this on Facebook and wanted to spread the message as it means a lot to me. It’s a cause I have taken up, to create a world where we SEE and are SEEN.

It has also helped me get through something that happened today and I have learned again the value of being seen.

(warning: yes I really did use the word poo 3 times in this blog. well, 4 if we count this warning).

I see you

There is a light sense of irony that while this is my mission with my children and in my work, I have spent the last week feeling unheard, not listened to. Inaudible in place of invisible.

The main culprit is my cheeky minx, little S, but to be honest the whole household has contributed. A huge amount of frustration has been building and was released this afternoon when little S felt unable to wait two minutes for me to get to her and decided to explore her own poo.

Yes, it was as disgusting as you think it would be.

After dumping her in the shower and impressing upon her the wrongness of what she had done I forced myself to stop talking. My tongue was running away with me and I had visions of her in therapy in years to come working through the traumatic “poo incident” where she realised she was naughty.

Man, oh man, yes what she did was naughty but she is not naughty. She is curious, smart and tough (come on, “you make me wait so I’m going to play with poo” talk about playing hardball!). I just don’t think she expected me to flip the way I did.

All cleaned up, I put her back to bed for her nap and gave myself a time out with the Colbert Report (always makes me laugh).

At the end of my time out, nap time was over. Little S told me she loved me and gave me a huge hug. We debriefed the incident and agreed some rules.

She has seen me today, in the many shades that I come in:

in the terrible beauty that is my anger, a sight to behold; forceful, scary, loud

my compassion kicking in to make me stop talking and avoid saying anything more that could harm

my sense of protection, for her and myself, to put myself in timeout.

She has seen me and she loves me anyway.

Though I may not feel heard right now, I am seen and it is transformational: until now I did not see the compassion or the protection, only the anger.

I also see that I am a bit tense, lacking in patience.

No wonder she has been tuning me out. Time to pick a new voice.

 


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Make the ordinary come alive

I know, comparing yourself or your life to others is the first step on the road to dissatisfaction and frustration yet sometimes I do compare. Or notice the differences.

Perhaps I am just fooling myself, but “noticing the differences” feels better, more innocent, even a touch scientific. There’s a clinical detachment with “noticing”.

Ok, I’m getting distracted. What have I been noticing?

It’s the school holidays and as usual we don’t have a lot planned. While there is an underlying spirit of freedom, going with the flow, living spontaneously, there is a seed of doubt: are we just too tired to put some effort into it? It’s hard enough figuring out what we are going to have for dinner let alone plan exciting adventures that all the kids will love.

Try to find something that a 13 year old boy, a 6 year old girl and a 2 year old toddler will all like and can do at the same place. And that doesn’t cost a fortune. (Leave tips in the comments)

But when you have swings, climbing frame and a football… Everyone is happy. So although there are so many amazing things we could be doing while on holiday, most of the time we are playing in the garden.

While I was noticing how our activities are always super simple and wondering if I was shortchanging my kids, a dear friend of mine sent me this (and saved me):

image

I don’t know who wrote this but I like it. I love it. It is at the heart of me and everything I believe about life. Sometimes I forget but when you appreciate and value what you already have, life is extraordinary.


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The Art of Lego: (re)visited

A while ago I wrote about the Art of the Brick exhibition. I couldn’t decide if we should go or not.

Well, we went.

It was really great. It’s amazing to see these great pieces of art and sculpture. My thoughts flitted between “oh, so that’s how you do it” (to recreate The Scream with lego) to “how will I ever be satisfied by my own creations ever again?”

S didn’t break any pieces but she did hug the lego man in the play area at the end. And started to build onto him (well, they put lego there to play with! it was hard to stop her).

F loved it. She listened to the audio tapes about the artwork for every piece. Well, she certainly used the device and entered the number for each piece, I don’t know how much of the recording she actually paid attention to.

Sometimes you just need to stop thinking and go and do what your heart desires.

photo-3S is at that age when she really wants to see the picture you have taken, and comes to look before I have even taken the picture. But trust me, it was really cute to see her hug this lego man.

 


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“I’m going to runaway!”

Sometimes I let circumstances get the better of me. It happened this week. The details contributing to my mini meltdown are not relevant – could anything justify me exclaiming “that’s it, Im running away!”?

This post is about about what happened next.

run_away

The other day I was feeling pretty lost, tired and steadily being driven nuts by F’s constant interfering in everything I was doing (J, the irony is not lost on me. Taste of my own medicine? Absolutley).

I snapped. I told her I was going to run away. She replied “go on then” (small side note, I am incredibly proud of her response to me).

So that was the start of our role reversal and then this happened…

“If you stop being cross and say sorry then I want you to stay” said F.

…and the role reversal was complete.

My little F, not yet 7, is more mature than I am.

I don’t know what got into me (but there is a definite yearning for some peace, as in, alone time) yet I am grateful that F is so wise, compassionate and willing to stand up to her mum and call me on my silly behaviour.

My conclusion? Our children are better than us.

Yet I don’t feel better than my parents. What’s that about? Am I just at that stage in life where I am stuck in the middle, looking at the greatness that surrounds me? Feeling inadequate, hoping that I am not doing too much damage. Holding on to the idea that “what doesn’t break you, makes you stronger”. (be grateful kids, you’re going to be superheros when you grow up!)

Then we had the most wonderful conversation. We heard each other, we made agreements. We hugged.

Maybe F realises that I am only human. Actually, I think she always knew and loves me anyway. It is I who keeps forgetting my own humanity. Now to start loving myself anyway.

 


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Ooh wish I was a cat


I’m taking a break this week.  I am tired, pleasantly tired . Oh and replacing the kitchen so the house is a mess.

If any of you know where to get one of these for humans (not an ordinary hammock but just like this and especially with the fluffy lining) don’t tell me where I can get one, just send one to me. Please.

image

Chilled out CPCC


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The Art of Lego

The thing about chronic illness is that it never stops. At times it can feel like those drops of water that carve through rock. Sometimes it creates a stillness in me and words disappear. Silence. Kind of what I have wanted from my kids today (who doesn’t?).

I am also in the mood for some art this week so that’s what this post is about.  Cool art. I saw that there is an Expo starting in Amsterdam tomorrow, The Art of the Brick which is an exhibition of over 70 sculptures made from Lego.

While this is nothing compared to the amazing works of art my kids and I create together (with F usually designing and me usually being the “finder” of all those cool weird shaped but tiny pieces), there are some in the exhibition that are passable.

(And I bet the artist Nathan Sawaya didn’t need finder to dig through all the different colours and sizes for just the right piece. I bet he had them all delivered and sorted exactly how he wanted them. Yes, there is definitely an envious tone to this bit of my post. Lego hurts. When you are digging through that box and especially when stepped on).

Having googled and seen images I now have a dilemma.

A. Go the the expo with my kids and

  1. hope S doesn’t break off a piece so she can play
  2. give F grand ideas about what we can make when we get home

 

B. Stay at home and miss out.

What to do?

In the meantime, here are some that represent the kinds of creations I imagine my efforts produce (and may explain why I actually get upset when the kids break them apart after 3 days. Master pieces ruined!)

We actually had a real one of these in my parents’ shop:

lego till

This is what I think F will want to make:

lego figures

Some art that I just love. How did they do this with those little bricks?

Lego Scream

lego waves

lego girl with earring