Whew, boy I managed to go a whole month without blogging!  That’s a first for me in 2 years & I’m trying not to feel too bad about it.  I have another writing project in the works and it’s been hard to switch gears when I have some dedicated time to write.

But I’m here now.

Life has been a little crazy lately…I feel like it’s always a little crazy.  I mean c’mon I have a toddler, it’s not going to be well manicured.  It’s gonna get messy.  Messy like last week when I got a call from my mom after an AA meeting, “Holden’s okay but…”  I couldn’t let her finish, all of the blood seemed to rush out of my body.  “What happened?!” I asked.  “He fell and bit through his tongue.”

I rushed home and we all went to the ER, first trip for this mama.  He was in pain but the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.  He had a pretty big open gash on the tip of his tongue.  It was late, he kept falling asleep & then waking back up to the pain.  We were seen pretty fast & the doctor said it could really go either way, if he was unable to get stitches he would probably be fine but he was going to stitch his tongue up anyways.  They administered some drugs up his nose and swaddled him in some white blankets like a little toddler burrito.  My son became like a happy drunk, watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and laughing at anything that was even reasonably funny.  The doctor managed to get a couple of stitches in before H became wise to what was happening.  He started jerking around, so the doctor gave up on that last perfect stitch.

As we drove home my son begged to go back to the hospital.  The drugs were still working through his system, he now vacillated between happy and mean drunk.  “I want to go back!” he shouted.  He kept crying & wailing.  It was around two in the morning now & us three adults were really only thinking about our beds & some sanity.  He refused to get out of his car seat.  He kept hitting me.  I had to carry him out of the car and into the house against his will.  He wasn’t supposed to walk on his own, because of the drugs he could fall.  I finally got him to bed with my mom’s help.  Nope, it wasn’t fun.

This is a somewhat extreme example of how hard being a parent can be (it could have been worse, yes I’ve heard the stories!), it’s not just roses and sunbeams all of the time.  You will be inconvenienced.  You will be karate chopped on the bridge of your nose by a very small (but strong) toddler.

You will be questioned incessantly.  You will be stressed.  You will be tired.  You will want to give up.

Lately I’ve had to seek a shift.  Morning hits me like a freight truck.  “Get up Mommy!”  I’ve had to switch my ways of thinking about him & how I react.  Because it’s easy to react wrong & it’s harder to react right.

I don’t react right all of the time & no, none of us is perfect.  But, I am my son’s only parent.  He has his grandparents too (Thank you Jesus) but I’m going to be with him for most of his early life.  This is a weighty thing to think about.  I’m it for him.  What I do will shape his mindset & beliefs.  It’s scary to think of myself like that.  It’s scary when my rational brain shuts off & I just feel annoyance or anger.

Because damn, three-almost-four-year-olds are quick.  While I was typing an email on my phone earlier, he dumped out two card decks, mixed them together, and poured all his toys over them.  Why?  So he could jump up and down on this flotsam, of course!  Pretty fun to clean up & yes he has to help too because that’s the lesson I want to teach him.

So I’ve begun to have to change my ideas about what he or I should be.  I’ve had to take breaks.  I’ve had to take more time to explain things to him.  I’ve had to discipline which is not natural for me to do.  I’ve had to nourish his spirit because I don’t want to crush it.  I’ve had to answer non explainable questions.  I’ve had to reach a little bit deeper.

I’m not feeling like I’m perfect at it, but I am feeling like I’m trying & doing my best.  I’m asking my HP for help always.  I know as other parents read this they will chuckle, their heads naturally nodding in agreement, remembering their own experiences & struggles.

Wishing all parents & kids out there a break.  A deeper understanding & love for one another.  This is what it’s all about.



Published by Liz Brower

I've practiced yoga since 2006, I stumbled into a class at my local gym. I didn't really "get" yoga, I wanted to do all of the poses to the max, I didn't focus on breathing, and I was very competitive. A year later I quit smoking and my mom purchased a three month unlimited to a local studio. I fell in love with yoga! Plus the metaphor was strong, my lungs began to repair, I could take really deep inhales without coughing! I later began to go to a free outdoor yoga classes in downtown Long Beach, CA that was also affiliated with a donation based studio. Yoga was fun, affordable, accessible, and outside! I loved it. I started practicing at home by myself. I started meditating. Right after I found the classes at the gym stopped drinking alchohol. My sobriety and yoga have intertwined ever since. They compliment each other amazingly and I am so grateful for them both. I stopped practicing yoga after getting pregnant and being caught up with the taking care of a newborn in 2013/2014. When he was 9 months old I realized that I really wanted to redirect myself back to yoga. I also had the seed planted in my mind while driving home from Christmas break, why don't you go do a yoga teacher training?! I started practicing yoga at a local studio and began scouring the internet for a teacher training program. I found Three Sisters Yoga, a lovely program, based out of NY & PDX. I was more than motivated to teach, I started teaching some free yoga in the summer of 2015 at a local park. I continued after that with an internship at the same studio I had signed back up with at the beginning of the year. I quit my day job. I hit the pavement, scouring for yoga gigs that would hire a newbie. I found a job and began to teach! Now I am navigating the great balance of being a single mom, a yoga teacher, and doing my best to trust my higher power with my future. I love to teach and practice vinyasa, but also know what it's like to be drawn to slower types of yoga due to injury or body type. I feel a special affinity for yoga new comers and like to teach practice at all different levels. Thank you for taking time to read a little more about me and I wish all of you the best in your own individual yoga practice. ~Namaste!

One thought on “A BLOODY MESS

  1. Brings back memories. I remember the first time my daughter needed to go to the ER. I was so grateful to be sober. She got her stitches and pain meds. I reveled in my silent recovery. She was 2 at the time. Seems like not so long ago I was getting sober (w toddlers underfoot). The kids are 15 and 17 now and I still remember. Love your stories.


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