It Makes Sense That You Would Feel This Way
Dear Friends,
This week my toddler and I began her potty-training journey. Or, as I’ve come to learn from Gentle Parenting Internet, what I should be calling her potty “learning” journey.
I’ve been dreading this for a while. Not the accidents, really–I knew I’d be cleaning a lot of pee off the floor. But more the return to paralysis. We’re trying the three-days-locked-in-your-house-naked method, where you’re absolutely not supposed to go ANYWHERE for two days while you watch your child like a hawk, then on the third day you can take “small outings,” like (as the potty training course I took suggests) “to check the mail.”
I find that the pandemic has done a number on me when it comes to being trapped in my house. It feels a lot more panic-inducing than it should. The idea of isolating indoors brings up memories of being in lockdown.
This is why I’ve been dreading potty training in the first place–not the messes, but the limitations in what we can go out and do. Can we still go on a half-day adventure around the neighborhood if we don’t have the ease of diapers? Will we have to stop every fifteen minutes when a child who is not yet in tune with her bladder thinks she might have to go?
This is also where my head has been with COVID lately. Now that my child has received one dose of the vaccine, and my husband and I are vaccinated and boosted, I feel almost no worry about having adverse effects or being hospitalized from COVID. Sure, it won’t be fun when we have it (and thanks to BA-5, or whatever iteration we’re on now, I know we will), but I’m not worried that we’re going to experience major complications.
So why am I still masking at the grocery store? Because I don’t want my life shut down for ten days. Being trapped in the house with my child, whose true loves include cafe patios, playgrounds, and the library, feels like torture.
Perhaps people who spent the early months of 2020 probing the edges of Netflix don’t carry this kind of trauma. But spending the lockdown phase of the pandemic as a round-the-clock caregiver (overseas in Qatar, no less, where it was 120 degrees outside) transformed me into someone who needs to be OUT.
Getting to the root of my feelings is always an interesting exercise, but then it’s like, okay, now what? There’s a cliche about therapy that all you do is talk about your childhood–getting to the bottom of why you are the way you are. (For the record, that cliche doesn’t really hold up.)
But then, what do you do with the information you’ve uncovered?
I start with a very simple affirmation, one that I actually did pick up in therapy: It makes sense that you would feel this way.
You may be reading this thinking, Good god, woman, it’s only potty training. And go eat indoors at a restaurant already, it’s TIME.
Believe me, this is the voice I hear in my head, too.
But I find I can actually make more progress in getting through my issues if I start with kindness towards myself. If I begin by affirming myself in a way that speaks to my values: namely, being logical.
It makes sense that you would feel this way.
When we start with affirming our feelings and how they connect to our past experiences, we can begin to cope with our present circumstances.
We can then move on to asking:
Did you survive this last time? Yes. I mean, the pandemic broke my brain, but I am still here.
How is this situation different? Potty training isn’t COVID. This isn’t the global unknown–this is teaching a perfectly capable child to master a milestone. I will get to leave my house again.
Can you let this fear go and allow the possibility of a different experience? I can try.
Transitions, even seemingly simple ones like ditching diapers, are hard. But if you convince yourself that things are going to be terrible before you even begin, you’re limiting your experiences of joy, surprise, and even how this new phase might be an improvement.
In writing this now, we’re not far enough along that I can claim victory over much of anything–the potty, coping in a new pandemic phase, or being enlightened during tough transitions. But as I walk through these affirmations and questions, I am experiencing a new sense of calm.
Being trapped in the house doesn’t have to be stifling. It can be cozy. It can be a time for connection. For slowing down and releasing agendas and expectations. Doors closed, mind open.
Take good care,
Dot
News & Updates
Join art therapist and certified Zentangle teacher Adele Stuckey and yoga instructor Beth Wolfe, E-RYT 500, for a unique creative experience that combines the meditative practices of Zentangle drawing and yoga.
During this workshop, participants will create beautiful pieces of art using the Zentangle Method of Drawing, combined with an all-levels yoga flow practice.
No art or yoga experience is required. All drawing materials provided; bring your own mat.
WHAT: Tangle & Flow Art & Yoga Workshop
WHEN: Saturday, July 30th from 11AM-12:30PM
WHERE: Faith Lutheran Church, 3313 Arlington Boulevard, Arlington, VA
COST: $40, includes art materials
Matthew Brooks now has openings for adults looking for support around life transitions, anxiety, depression, and general wellness. Four openings now available for virtual sessions on Wednesday mornings (DC and VA residents only).
Have questions or want to get started? Email us at info@alexandriaarttherapy.com.
Blog Posts
Have you heard of the “mood meter”? Marc Brackett, founding director of the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence, developed this chart to help people identify and label their feelings. In our latest blog post, we share a free download of our own recolored version of the chart, plus five art prompts to try as you explore the mood meter as a tool for processing emotions.
Links We Like
What to know about 988, the new mental health crisis hotline. (NYT)
Feel (and name!) your feelings.
This new journaling app looks interesting.
“Raising children is not an individual responsibility. It is a social one. If that sounds wild to you, it’s because the United States has privatized human rights—health care, child care, housing, education—and succeeded at normalizing a uniquely American, inhumane way of life.”
Don’t kill time, enliven it.
"It's easy to be spiritual in the forest; it's hard to be spiritual when you're on the phone with an insurance company."
“My O.C.D. diagnosis was a blessing, until it became too central to my identity.” (NYT)
It’s worse than you think (so live more intently).
“Get up, get out, and go find things.”
From Behind Glass by Lisa Sorgini:
I really love these questions that help frame situations about which we are uncertain. Thank you.