- There is a song by a band Switchfoot called “This is Your Life.” If you’ve never heard it, give it a listen. I could try and break down the whole song like I’m back in lit class trying to decipher Shakespeare, but instead I’ll take it easy.
“Don’t close your eyes. Don’t close your eyes. This is your life, are you who you want to be?”
I’ve found myself reflecting on my past a lot recently. I’ve been writing at night, and the topic at hand is dredging up many memories, some that I would rather not reflect on for a long period of time. I think of then, and I think of now. - My life now is a comedy at times. If I’m the leading lady, then my supporting actress is a two year old. She has become very talented at arguing her point. I’m certain she will be a lawyer. I feel like I’m in a scene from A Few Good Men. There is a reason for everything. Her new favorite word is “but”, and her explanation for her behavior is completely justifiable in her mind’s eye. Perhaps Mommy just can’t handle the truth. If I’m not in a John Grisham movie, I’ve fallen onto the set of Home Alone. I get stepped on (“cause that’s what feet do Mom”) and pooped on. I got spit up in my hair and boogers in my coffee. I feel like I’m dressed up if I’m in blue jeans instead of stretchy pants, and I feel sexy when I opt for the black, polka-dot nursing bra, instead of the white, cotton one. I sweep the floor so dirt can be tracked onto it. I put toys away so they can be dragged back out. I wash dishes and laundry so they can get dirty all over. I clean my child’s room. That’s probably the dumbest and most pointless thing I did today. I cracked my scull on the oak bunk bed twice. No, I didn’t learn the first time. But, I also live in a Nicholas Sparks movie. I married my true love after 10 years of being apart. He picks me up and spins me around. I even kick up the one foot. Our kisses are from the most romantic scene, in my eyes. I can hear a great soundtrack playing in the background as I get a hug from Chloe for no reason and she says “I wub you.” All the missed sleep is forgotten when my baby smiles at me.
- If I had to tell you what I think that song means, it would be pretty simple. Don’t close your eyes. Yes. Time does speed by. We all know that. If you don’t then you’re one of my teenager readers. Are you who you wanna be? That’s a loaded question. I think everyone wants a little more for their life. That’s ok to have dreams. I’m certainly reaching for mine. There’s a lyric that says “today is all you got now”. I have to remind myself not to dwell on the past. God forgave me, so it’s alright to forgive myself. That is easier said than done though, isn’t it. But, if you can move past your sinful nature and grasp a hold of what God has for you, then I think you’ll open your eyes one morning and realize that you are indeed who you want to be. I am. I love the movie collection that is my life. I love the funny moments, the slap stick accidents, the romance, and the heart-warming family moments. With the director of my life writing the script, I can even manage the scenes that make you cry tears of sadness. This is my life. I’m still working on it, but I’m finally becoming who I want to be.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- It’s no secret to anyone that knows me that my childhood could be considered far from ideal. If you didn’t go to school with me, then have you ever seen the movie “Mean Girls” with Lindsay Lohan? Haha. Nah, I won’t blame my pitiful high school existence on anyone else. When it came down to it, I guess I was just an odd little kid. I had to find my place in this world, and youth is a difficult time to find yourself period. It got a little easier as I went along. I had some really good friends in my journey. There weren’t many, because I was selective I suppose. (when i wasn’t trying too hard to fit in). Even as I got older, I discovered I’d rather hang out with myself than people I didn’t have anything in common with. As a small child, I had no siblings or friends to play with since we moved so much. I did have an imaginary friend named Carla. As I got further into elementary school, I had one best friend. Her name was Amy and we were inseparable. In high school, I had people I hung out with, but once again, just one friend I could share my true heart with and just be me with no fear of judgement. Chasity.
- In college, life became even weirder. As you get older you’re supposed to start knowing who you are in life. I had always been a late bloomer, and I felt even more out of place as I tried to discover where I fit. In my early twenties I had the opportunity to become friends with a wonderful girl. Mary and I would be like peas and carrots (to quote a favorite movie). The great thing about becoming friends with Mary was the fact that she introduced me to the life of a Christian walk. I knew about going to church, but she talked about having a relationship with Jesus. She spoke about God like they were relatives or something, and it really intrigued me at the time. There were many great things about our friendship, but a wonderful fact that made it stand out was that it ushered in a time of my life where I would start finding where I fit. I wouldn’t find it because of the new church I attended with her, or the new relationships forged, but because I would begin to see myself as Christ saw me. With His eyes, I could finally see my different qualities as unique characteristics as a child of God. This is not to say that happened overnight. God would begin that work in me then, and He’s still working on it now.
- Today, my friend Mary came to visit me. We don’t see each other much anymore. We are both married with children, and life just gets busy. We live in different towns. We also are both very close to our families, and spend most of our free time with them. My husband is my best friend now, and I’m sure her husband is hers as well. The great thing about us though, is that we can always and easily pick back up like not a day has passed. There’s no hard feelings over time lapsed, and conversation flows easily. She will always hold a special place in my heart. She might just kill me for the picture I’m using in this post, but it’s a perfect example of us. We could be crazy and have fun without worrying about what other people thought of us. Thank you dear friend for introducing me to the fact that I’m a child of the King.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- I don’t know what happened while I was working Sunday, but apparently my husband got mixed up and switched our baby with another one in the nursery at church or something. That’s the only explanation I can think of to justify my sweet baby’s behavior. Normally asleep by 9 pm at least, Bailey instead stayed up till after midnight. I was exhausted after work and feared we both might turn into pumpkins. I patted. I rocked. I nursed. I pleaded. I would have signed a contract with that child in blood if I thought it would have made a difference. As she continued to fight sleep, it just made it worse. I have never been able to let a baby cry it out. I just can’t do it. When I hear them cry, I want to pick them up and make it better. I want them to know if they cry, Mommy will hear them. I want them to know I’m always there. This often leads to marathon rocking sessions like last night. Even after I put her asleep in her room, I had trouble drifting off. After so much crying, I could still hear it ringing in my ears. I would get up because I thought I heard her crying, but she would be asleep. The baby monitor was plugged in a living room outlet, and I was too tired to rearrange things. We both eventually slept, but that little Duracell bunny was up an hour earlier than usual this morning.
- One thing I like about Mondays is taking a shower with the luxury of another adult on the premises. With my husband here, I can actually take a shower. I usually take a bath when it’s just me and the girls, so I can hear everything. I used to enjoy a hot bath immensely, but it’s kind of different with a toddler. The bath is no longer my own. When you pull back the curtain, there’s always bubble bath residue mixed with little kid dirt. Where did all that dirt fall out of is what I want to know? There’s toys everywhere. I used to be lazy and just run my water with the toys still in there instead of picking them all up. Have you ever sat on a small plastic doll? It’s not comfortable at all. That’s not a place where Dora should explore. So I enjoy a nice hot shower when the hubby is off work. I put the baby to sleep for her nap, and put her in her room with the door closed. Ben had Chloe. No problem. A knock always comes to the door anyway, doesn’t it. Ben asking was the baby asleep when I put her down, and I can hear her cries through the cracked door. Minutes later as I try to get back into my quiet me time, Chloe comes in next (Ben is no doubt distracted with Bailey). She has started to strip. “I wanna shower with you.” Well, it was nice while it lasted.
- Today was my little brother’s birthday party. He is 11 years younger than me. When I saw the “24” candles on his cake, I felt old. Such a young man, I thought, and I felt proud of my baby brother. I bought him a mushy card. I always buy him funny cards, but this year I went all sentimental. I couldn’t help it. My life is busy. His is busy, and about to be busier. He and his wife are expecting. We live in the same town, but can go weeks and not see each other. That is a lot better than when I was in the military, and saw him once a year, though. I remember him being a little blond-haired toddler just like Chloe. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’m glad I went for the mushy card. I want him to know how much his big sister loves him. I never want him to wonder. So glad I have my family so close. When we get together, I’m always left with a full heart and a smile on my face.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- As I got in the shower this morning, I began to pray as I always do. I started asking God to help me have a good day. I asked Him to help me wake up. As I was going to ask for something else, I stopped myself with a giggle. “Sorry God” I prayed. I realized that so often I go straight to Him with requests. I see my relationship with God a lot like my relationship with my kids, with Him naturally being the parent. I realize there’s more to it than that, but since He’s my Father, I often see it that way. I think that He gave me the gift of being a parent so I could begin to get a glimpse of how much He loves me. Many times I see behavior in my children that I can relate to my own behavior towards my Heavenly Father. Some days I feel like I’m a servant to my child’s every whim. Every time I sit down, she’s asking me for something else. I love to take care of her needs because she’s my child. It just comes natural. Sometimes I wonder if she remembers how to say please or thank you. When she hugs me tight, and tells me she loves me, I know in my heart that she is thankful for the things I do. This morning, when I stopped myself in the middle of my prayer requests, I laughed at myself, and said, “Lord, I’m glad you love me anyway.” Then I began to praise Him and thank Him for my blessings instead of barraging Him with needs.
- I got a good send off this morning. When I woke up, it seemed to have woken Miss Bailey. She had been sleeping in my warm arms, so it’s quite understandable that she woke once I wasn’t there. Usually I can get her right back to sleep by rocking and feeding her. This morning she showed no interest in a morning meal. She only seemed interested in my face. I am amazed how such a small baby can give such a penetrating glance. Her big eyes focus right into my soul, and can’t help but make me grin stupidly back at her. I had never seen such a joyous smile on my husband’s face until I saw him smile back at our first child. I knew that same silly grin was plastered across my face this morning. She began to talk to me with coos and gurgles, no doubt telling me about a dream, or perhaps commenting on my bed head. She became so loud in her exclamations, that she even roused Ben from his own dreams. He simply smiled. By the time I got her settled back down, I found myself having to rush to get to work on time. I can think of no better reason to run late.
- I enjoyed a nice day at work. Those can sometimes be far and few in between. I had great patients and was able to build up a rapport. I thoroughly enjoy being able to share my faith and love for Jesus with my patients. Sadly, we live in a society where sharing your personal faith is becoming harder to do because of rules, laws, etc. in the school or workplace. Even while I served in the military I received verbal counseling for using the word Christmas in place of Holiday. It was considered insensitive of me to try and impose my religious choices on others. This was very difficult for me to understand, especially with my background as a missionary. The Bible calls us all to spread the good news. If you ask me, I’m of the personal belief that my God is the true living, one and only God. I will not force this upon you, for my God teaches free will. I will share my faith, and how it changed my life, praying that you will see the fruit I bear and wish to know “what makes her so happy? Where does her joy come from?” Today I was able to share faith with people accepting of my words and prayers for them. I can’t imagine being sick or facing a major surgery without being able to lay that burden down at the feet of my Lord. If you share my joy, please let it flow out to others. If you want to share my joy, ask me how. I’m always eager to share.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Usually when I wake up, I will think of something I need to do right away, that I forgot to do the day before. Sometimes I’ll wake up in the wee hours of the morning, stripped from my sleep to go lock a door or start the dryer. I don’t know if it’s just a woman think or not. I can’t imagine the oven still being on, being something strong enough to pull my husband out of sleep. It’s like my mind must be so frazzled at the end of the day that I would forget to take my head to bed with me if it wasn’t attached. Yet after a bit of rest, my brain goes back into over-drive, tasking away. This morning, my first thought was that I didn’t get the baby’s milk out of the freezer to thaw, nor did I put dinner away. I went straight to the kitchen and found the stove clean. The spaghetti was in the fridge, and on the top shelf were four bags of milk thawing. My husband is the ultimate team player, a wonderful partner in life. I made sure I told him later that I noticed what he did, and how much it meant to me. It’s the small things sometimes that show you the most.
- I really haven’t minded the seasonably cool weather. It’s mostly gotten warm enough in the afternoons to spend time outside, but not so warm that you need to be in the water. Chloe has enjoyed it more than anyone, I think. She could spend hours playing in her sandbox. She even planted some plastic flowers in there on Thursday. I saw something on social networking that suggested putting cinnamon in the sand to prevent bugs. I gave it a shot. It certainly smells better. She loves to play with the dog, blow bubbles, and slide. Over the winter, she had forgotten how much fun being outside can be. She is allowed to get dirty, run, and scream; all things that are curtailed inside usually. Now that she’s been reminded of the awesome insanity of outdoor play, she is resistant to anything but. Upon waking she wants to get her shoes on and go outside. Yesterday’s forecast brought with it, cold rain. This was not good. Her two year old mind couldn’t understand not going out there. She understood me when I said it was raining, but didn’t understand why that should matter. My Aunt recently bought her a Dora umbrella, and she thought that was a simple solution to the weather. I saw cold air, muddy puddles, and so many other obstacles. She just looked at me with a furrowed brow, not understanding my Mommy logic. I can understand. I get that way in life too. You can get used to a comfort zone, and when change comes, you’re resistant. Sometimes you just got to realize there’s someone who knows better than you do what is best. Next time I catch myself with a furrowed brow, questioning God, I’ll keep that in mind.
- I think I figured out something about the work day that’s worse for me than walking out the door is. After I got home and had cuddled with my girls, I decided to feed Bailey some cereal. As she sat in the high chair, opening her little mouth as wide as possible, and shaking with excitement over an anticipated bite; I realized it would be time for her to go to bed soon. I was so enjoying caring for her and observing her every move, that the thought that time was short for any more of that today, made me a little sad. I’m glad I only come home late from work twice a week. I’d bawl my eyes out if I missed out on too much of such adorable antics. So, I just did the best with what I had. I rocked her to sleep for a very long time. Even after her eyes were closed, and her suckling had ceased, I rocked some more. I rocked until my tank was full enough to get me to sleep and fortified for tomorrow.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- What makes for a bad day? Like, what happens that causes everything to work in concert for a bad day to emerge? What if it’s like a looming manhole with the cover missing. Can you just not see it coming until you’re right up on it, and it’s too late to step to the side? Do you wish bad days came with a do over? Like, maybe the director could yell “cut, take two!” Would you finally learn your lines after you realized you flubbed them up the first time around? What if there was a play-back recording you could watch and see where you went wrong?
- I couldn’t quite understand what was going on with my day! Everything was a big deal. It usually is with a two year old, but double time today. Her “finger hurt!” she cried. It was a tiny paper cut. Her “mouth hurt!” It’s dry lips. Try some Chapstick? “No! It burns!” Everything was worthy of many tears, from her favorite show not being on, to wanting some yogurt. It was like someone suddenly pulled off their anti-depressant and the resultant withdrawals became ever present. Bailey (a normal self-soother) was incapable of being put down. I rocked them at the same time. I loved on them. I got snacks. I found the favorite show on demand. Nothing seemed to make it all okay. What’s the reason? Is there one? I found myself getting very short fused. Ridiculous tears made me want to snap. I raised my voice. Chloe actually told me, “When you get mad, it makes me act bad.” How eye opening is that? Ben asked me this week if I was starting my period! Are my mood, short fuse, or angry reactions the stem of my kids’ bad mood? Good question. I don’t know. There’s no real way to know who slid off the manhole cover, and trying to figure that out could consume you with guilt. I guess the important part is looking at the play-back, and see where you were looking (instead of down) when you fell in.
- So, I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed. I prayed for God to help me be the mother He wanted me to be. I prayed that He would help me with my temper. If anyone can, it’s Him. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to flood my home with peace, for me, and for the girls. They were as tense as I was! Right after my prayer, I walked back in the room and found Chloe had taken all the laundry I had folded and thrown it on the floor. Deep breath. I corrected her, but I’d like to think I did it with a level head and regular tone of voice. I think I did. That’s the thing about giving your life over to God. He just makes you want to change everything. You don’t want anger, or thoughtless behavior, or anything really that doesn’t reflect an attitude like Jesus. I don’t want to be perfect. I know I can’t be. Only Jesus and Mary Poppins are perfect. I don’t want perfect. I just want a better me. It may not make the bad days go away, but it will help me deal with them better when they do come. So I can’t have a do over, but I can prevent a repeat.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- We’ve been gone from home most of the day. We originally headed out for the National Day of Prayer at our local courthouse. It was scheduled 11:45-12:45, right in the meat of the baby’s nap, but I decided to go anyway. I thought it was important, and thought it would also be a good experience for Chloe. I could have prayed from home, but wanted Chloe to see all the people gathered together with one common goal. I’ve never been before, having usually been at work. I was under the impression that it was a come and go thing, rather than a scripted event. Imagine my disappointment when we arrived at 12:15 (with 30 minutes remaining) and heard the amen and watched people scatter just as we were walking up. So, Chloe and I sat on the park bench and I prayed with her. I said my own prayers as I let her run about. As I got up to leave, Chloe made it known that she didn’t want to go. She wanted to climb the courthouse steps. I informed her that I couldn’t with the stroller, and it was time to go. She continued to plead her case, and I ignored her and texted my Dad. So she screamed, “Are you listening to the words coming out of my mouth?!” Hey, that’s my line! I asked her didn’t she want to go get a snow cone, and she replied, “I do, but I just can’t right now. I’m too mad.”
- We ended up staying out and going to visit folks. We eventually made it around to my Dad’s house. After we had been visiting a while, my step mom asked if Chloe could jump on the trampoline. Uh, no! Hello?! I can’t let my precious china doll jump on a big, bad, dangerous, slippery, highly elevated device that throws children to the hard ground where their tiny bones break!!! She told me there was a net around it. Oh… Ok. So, I let her. She offered to take her out there, but after a few minutes (or maybe seconds), I had to go out there so I could watch her. I told my Dad I wanted to see her excited face, which is true, but I also wanted to keep my eyeballs on her. You never know. There could have been a tear in the net. In the end, it seemed pretty safe. My pulse only accelerated when a little 5 year old boy got in there with her. Oh, Lord, he’s being too rough! It took every ounce of me to just stand back and watch, and not make her get out. It’s hard to balance being smartly protective for their safety, and being insanely over-protective for your peace of mind. I’m working on it.
- Sometimes it’s no wonder I live like a hermit. Going places means disrupting schedules! Argh! Help me! I love the baby to take her big nap at the beginning of the day. Everything just flows so smoothly after that. Today, instead of 3-4 hours, she got 30 minutes. Later she took a 15 minute nap on the way to my Dad’s. You see where this is headed. It’s the snowball effect. Exhaustion leads to more exhaustion, fighting naps until a total meltdown is inevitable. Chloe missed nap time too. On our way back home, they both fell asleep. When I got there it was like a scene from Mission Impossible trying to figure out how to make the transfer from car to inside without waking them. I worked on Bailey first. She was asleep in her carrier once inside, but I feared with an empty tummy and no movement, she may wake prematurely. So I made the decision to get her out and feed her. Once back asleep, I’d transfer her to the swing and presto. The best laid plans don’t always go accordingly. Wrong choice. She woke and wouldn’t go back to sleep. It’s going to be a fun night. As the baby cried in the swing, and I attempted to rock Chloe back to sleep, I thought “it’s absolutely insane how much of my time I spend trying to make other people go to sleep for their own good”. I realized that in 3 hours, I would be doing this again, rocking another child to bed. With all the going to sleep, how do we do anything else? Ah, well. It is what it is. Can’t put a positive spin on that one. It’s a job. They need to sleep. I put them to sleep. Being a Mother is a fantastical position in life. I’m taking care of small humans. I may have missed the boat on naps today, but I still think I “totally rock” as Chloe would say.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- If I were a secret agent, and I had to torture information out of bad guys; I would have plenty of ideas to illicit information. Plenty. One that especially comes to mind would be loading them up in the car with us. Now that warmer weather is coming along, I’m reminded of the temperament of my air conditioning. I don’t mind it so much in the winter. I’m cold natured after all. There seems to be a problem with the control knob. We have either off and sweat like a pig, or there’s arctic blast, where icicles freeze to your eyebrows. I do tell myself to chill out (literally and figuratively), that at least setting four works, even though 1-3 do not. It could not work at all, I realize, but it can get torturous to me. So that my babies don’t broil in the back, I end up with it set at Mach 4 and consequently feel like I’m climbing Mt. Everest in my underwear.
- Aside from the temperature, there’s the constant soundtrack coming from the back speakers. No, I’m not talking about a Disney CD or anything. I mean the audio coming from each carseat. Chloe: I dropped my doll! I dropped my doll!
Bailey is cackling like a madwoman.
Chloe: Bailey. Be quiet. Stop laughing at me!
Bailey screaming happily and laughing boisterously.
Chloe: I want my chocolate milk!
Me: It’s sitting on the kitchen table where you left it.
Chloe: (starts crying). I want my chocolate milk!!
Bailey continues to giggle profusely.
Chloe: Be quiet Bailey! Be quiet Bailey! I want candy. Then I want an icee. I want to go to Walmart. Be quiet Bailey! Momma, her won’t be quiet. Where are you going?
Bailey continues to laugh, punctuated with shrill shrieks.
Any ordinary person not related to my kiddos would either drive an ice pick into their own ear drum, or tell me everything I needed to know. - In all reality, it wasn’t a torturous ride. It’s always nice to get out. I like to peek in the rear view mirror and smile at Chloe. Today when I did it, she smiled back and said, “I wub you mommy.” Then she looked over at the baby and said, “I wub you Baywee.” I smiled proudly. I’ve had moments like that all day, moments where I couldn’t help but smile. Seeing Chloe dance around outside, with the sun hitting her hair just right. She looked like a wild, unbridled beauty with her bangs flying away from her face. Walking up on Bailey and seeing her so focused on her hand, then saying “hey!”, and watching a grin spread across her face as wide as a river. Even as I swept the floor today, I smiled and told God “I could do this all day.” I love each day, watching my children grow, smile, and learn. I even love all the stuff that comes with it like sweeping up play-doh, making endless snacks, and changing soaked sleepers. I even love carting them into the car, and listening to their endless jabber as I freeze to death. I don’t think it’s torture at all.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Just when you think you’ve got a great sleep pattern implemented in your child, they’ll throw you for a loop. After all, you wouldn’t want to mistakenly take sleep for granted. Babies are really talented at keeping you meek and unassuming. While they keep you on your toes with a patterned sleep schedule, throwing in a monkey wrench just as you think you have it figured out; they also are very tight-lipped when it comes to why. They’re not saying a word when it comes to “why are you suddenly awake at 3 am?!” My own baby woke at 3:30 this morning. She was wide-eyed and giggling as if it were indeed 10 am. I can never get mad at that sweet little laugh. I did put her back to sleep instead of staying awake to chat, though. She was awake again three hours later. She had soaked her diaper and was cold. I could understand that one for sure. Two hours later she was awake again, hungry but unable to nurse due to a severely stuffy nose. Chloe had hidden the nasal aspirator (lest it be used on her), and had taken the good thermometer to play Dr with. I managed to find something I could rig up and cleared Bailey’s nose. No more snot, but lots of drool. Then she pooped through her second change of clothes, all before I had managed to make my delicious friend, coffee. Is she sick? Is it just teething? She’s not telling. I’m planning for poor sleep again tonight, so hopefully she’ll surprise me.
- I was blessed today with visitors, not just one, but two. I enjoy having adult company. I love my children, but it’s nice to talk about stuff other than cheese, Bubble Guppies, and answering never ending whys. I don’t intend to be a hermit, but sometimes it’s just easier that way. It is such a chore to get kids out. It’s not just getting everyone ready and carting them and their bags to and from the vehicle; it’s also the schedule that you must work around to make a trip possible. Has everyone eaten? Has everyone been toileted or changed? When are we gonna nap? If you miss naps, you realize you must be mentally and emotionally prepared for the aftermath that will ensue. I needed to get out today. I got to get an aspirator and thermometer, right? We go outside and walk around the block. I don’t keep the kids locked up or in a dungeon, but some days the jeep just doesn’t leave the driveway. I know this will change as it gets easier. Until then, I’m always grateful to have company.
- Has it ever happened to you? Have you ever experienced that moment when you realize your child is a tyrant?! It happened in my own back yard. A neighborhood kid came over to play. Chloe did not share. That’s pretty typical for two, but she was downright rude. She raised her voice, always wanted to do what he was doing, and would bully him out of the way. In the end, she even tried to push him down the slide, and not in a friendly way. I was so shocked that I couldn’t say anything. As I took her inside, I wondered what I could have or should have done to prevent such behavior. I had never seen her like that with her cousins. The main thing that came to my head was to read the bible with her. I grabbed her children’s bible and we read stories about Jesus. I explained his character in child friendly words, and explained his desire for us to be like him. I applied it to playing with others. The strange thing was, it seemed like she was listening to me. After I finished, she gave me a big hug and said, “I’ll be good Mom.” And so it begins. Pray for me.
That is all π
3 Facts for the Day
- Today has felt like an odd day. I’ve felt almost bipolar. I mean no insult to anyone with a mood disorder. I think I could probably be diagnosed with one if I sat on a psychiatrist’s couch long enough. I think we all, especially women, have days where you feel the blues a little more than usual. I think anyone who claims they don’t is either lying or hormonally deficient. I personally can’t stand it. I love joy, embrace it even. So when sadness finds its way into my little world I get perturbed. I almost feel guilty, wondering how a woman so blessed in life can feel down. I understand guilt is just another lie that further drags your mood into the muck, but knowing something doesn’t always prevent it from happening or change the outcome.
- I know a down day pretty quickly. It will usually start with the way I’m seeing myself that day. Maybe you can follow my line of thinking. Some days I wake up and hit the shower, and I think “Dang. I look pretty good today!” The mirror is flattering on those days. You feel certain you’ve probably lost a pound or two, or perhaps that new age-defying moisturizer is finally doing the trick. Other days, you wince when you see your reflection. You feel extra “puffy” and nothing fits right. You try on outfit after outfit, hoping for the right combination, but never finding it. You eventually settle for something that you’ll be self conscious in anyway for the entire day. This is going to be the day that you get bad news by phone. It’s the day nothing will work like it’s supposed to work. You’ll break a nail. The bulb will go out in the fixture that’s hard to reach. You won’t be able to open that jar while cooking dinner. Oh, and it’s definitely gonna be a bad hair day! I hate “don’t work, self critical, blue days”!
- Throughout my blue day, I was bombarded with tiny moments of happiness, working hard to overshadow my sadness. It was like the sun trying to peek out from behind the clouds, and a gentle wind to blow the storm clouds away. I was gifted with moments in time: a tiny bow in my baby’s hair as she smiled with big eyes at me, pushing Chloe in the swing and hearing her giggle with joy, a walk in the neighborhood with my family, a glimpse at my husband when he didn’t know I was looking (he had just shaved and I thought he looked so handsome and young), pulling out baby clothes for Bailey from a bin in the shed and seeing the little outfits my sweet Chloe used to wear, grilling dinner with my man, watching my baby girl play with my first doll (so glad Mom kept it), watching Ben and some neighborhood fellas try their hearts out to pull a broken branch down (comical really), watching the baby kick excitedly in her bath tub, and watching Chloe fall asleep in her towel after her bath (such a fun day she couldn’t even make it in time for me to get pajamas). I gather all these happy thoughts, and something wonderful happens. The clouds do part! I guess some days you just need to reflect on the things that make you smile to chase your frown away.
That is all π
Well, almost all. I will say, that maybe some days that won’t work. Some days just want to be blue. So for those days, don’t give up hope. Continue to reach for your happy thoughts and say a little prayer for strength. Joy comes in the morning.
And that is all π
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