These kids. My kids. They have been though a lot as individuals and together. They are the cause of my grey hair, my tears and my laugh lines. They are the source of my pride and the origin of my insanity! They build each other up more than they tear each other down. They may be at different ages and stages of life, but watching them share space as they grow and mature fills up my momma heart. I find peace in the fact that long after I am gone, they will still have each other….. and the memories of our times together. I have, and always will be, their Kristine (mom)… whether they like it or not…. they can work that out in therapy! Peace #tutulady #forwardisapace
On January 18 I turned 55. What did I get for my birthday? I got… An off leash dog A missed curb A wipeout A drive to the ER 1/2 a narco(my choice) A hematoma block A closed reduction A splint An appointment with an orthopedic doctor An appointment for a minor surgery A covid test An ekg A full blood panel Anesthesia K wires Another splint More narco(which I chose not to take) Gummies The first dose of a Moderna Covid vaccine Another appointment with an orthopedic doctor A cast And I’m not done yet…. I’ve had more medical care in the past few weeks than I have had in years. Do I like it? No. Am I grateful? Yes. Medical care and taking care of of myself was not seen as a priority during my marriage. Taking care of of my physical and mental health was seen as a selfish and weak expense that we could not afford. When I did visit the doctor, the bill was never paid and I could not go back so I stopped going all together. It was not worth the embarrassment. But now? Now I’m learning to take care of myself. Im learning that taking care of myself is worth every penny. I’m not self indulgent but I go to the doctor when I need it. I go to regular therapy appointments. I take care of this vessel that holds my heart. I’m learning… sometimes the hard way… to take care of myself. And it is so worth it. Peace #tutulady #forwardisapace
2021 Pay-It-Forward: The first five people to connect with me will receive from me, sometime within the calendar year, a handwritten note, perhaps with a gift attached. There will likely be no warning and it will happen whenever the mood strikes me. Let’s all pay it forward this year! 🖊 Pay it forward!! Let’s connect!! Peace, #tutulady #forwardisapace
Visual representations of times, places, people. Images can be real, imagined or manufactured. Images capture a single moment in time but not the context. While we spend time looking sometimes enviously at others photos of holiday and other family celebrations, we know not the daily struggles behind those smiles. Every picture tells a story. Sometimes the story is one we tell ourselves and sometimes it is a fairy tale others want us to believe. This years holiday gifts in my family were those of photos. My children were gifted photos of childhoods long gone and gifted me with photos of who they are now. Each photo carried a story that was told as we turned the pages of the books and our lives. Memories were shared and new ones created together. As I sat alone at the end of the night in the glow of the Christmas tree, I scrolled social media. I looked at the images that family and friends had posted. I saw more than the surface in many of those photos. In some I could see strained smiles and sad eyes. In some I could see body language that most would not recognize unless they had lived similar lives. I looked at the often highly curated settings of many photos and saw what many would miss. Most people would just hit the ‘like’ button and keep scrolling but not me. Perhaps it is because in the past I had been the one posting those “impression management” photos to cover for the inadequacies, deep pain and heartache I felt. Perhaps it is because some of those posting the photos had privately shared their struggles with me or because I just knew the reality of their lives. We all want others to believe that our lives are perfect and without strife or struggle. We see the ‘picture’ that others present and think “why not me?’ or “what is wrong with me?” We step into that place of lack…that feeling that we are somehow inadequate….that feeling that somehow we are not and do not have enough. STOP THAT! STOP right now! Life is real and messy and imperfect…and so are we. Which is why I shared the stories behind the photos my kids had in front of them. I shared joyful, happy memories as well as pain-filled moments as we looked at the photos. I owned moments of grief and anger as well as moments when my heart overflowed with love and pride for each/all of them. The more that we are authentic and real with one another, the more grace we offer each other, the kinder we are……the more love is created. Accept yourself for who you are and love the person looking back at you in the mirror. Accept one another, and yourself, for who they are and love the person…not the image. Every picture tells a story…own your truth and tell your story. Peace #tutulady #forwardisapace
I have always been a morning person. Early bird catches the worm and all. I was never one to sleep the day away like my kids often do now. I do my best work in the morning and love to see the sunrise. This time of year, my anxiety gets the better of my and I have trouble falling asleep and staying asleep. Insomnia is my constant companion. I worry about so many things at the holidays, making lists in my head, replaying conversations, and catastrophizing all that can happen. It is always an issue but this time of year it gets worse. I have worked long and hard to calm my anxious thoughts and behaviors, but sleep is one of the most difficult. For years I would lie awake waiting for my wasband to arrive home. He worked nights and often went out drinking after work. I never knew what his mood would be when he arrived home and often slept on the edge of the bed afraid to even breathe. Mornings I would tiptoe out of the room as not to wake him and incur his wrath. I would keep the kids as quiet as I could for the same reason. It was a difficult dance for all of us. For years after I left, I still had trouble sleeping and would get out of bed feeling like I had been in a fist fight. Every muscle ached…especially my hands. One evening, my therapist mentioned that I looked more tired than usual and asked me to talk about it. As I spoke, she watched me then she asked me to lie on the floor and show her my sleep position. I did as she asked, hopeful she could provide insight into my insomnia. She asked me to talk about each part of my body and how I felt. What I realized was that every single part of me body was tense, my whole body was in a tight ball, my shoulders were by my ears, and my hands were in fists. She told me that I was a resting fighter, always vigilant. That I was ready to defend myself in while I was resting. I was not, in fact, really ever sleeping. My body and brain would not allow me to let me let my guard down. Trauma is stored in the body and appears in many different forms unless it is healed. It has taken intentional practice to release that trauma and vigilance, letting others into my life. The boundaries are firm, walls are high, guarded fiercely to protect myself and those I love. I am keenly aware of my body and its cues when it comes to sleep and other trauma responses. During the holidays, insomnia wants to not just visit but stay. So when the insomnia rears its head I can say hello and send it packing again, not allowing it to overstay its welcome. Trauma takes many forms. With the help of others, we can identify as well as address the issues in order to find hope and healing. This is an ongoing process as healing is not linear. We are all in the process of becoming stronger humans. With some help, and some sleep, we can all find peace. Peace. #tutulady #forwardisapace
Kristine Binder 