Hey friends. I’m writing this post on Thursday morning, which is unusual. I try to write my posts in advance and schedule them, but sometimes life doesn’t work on schedule. (Sometimes? Maybe all the times.) I was thinking the other day about my tendency to take one thing off my plate just to add two new things. Why do I do that? I was also thinking about how, when I get frustrated with the normal that I start to desperately seek the new…instead of just taking a hard look at what is in my normal that’s causing frustration. It’s counterintuitive to add new things to an already overwhelmed schedule, but I guess it’s easier to dive head first into something new and shiny than to do the work it requires to polish up the old and worn out.
Does this make any sense?
Hello. It’s me….
Mind meanderings and Adele aside, it’s a rainy Thursday morning and I kind of love me some rainy Thursdays. By time I get to Thursday, I welcome the unscheduled, supernatural nudge to take a beat, pause, slooooow things down.
It’s been a good week, but man, yesterday was a hard day for me. For a lot of little reasons. Everything felt overwhelming. Everything felt beyond my control.
But as I’m reminding myself this morning, feelings are indicators, not dictators, and while I might feel a certain way, I don’t have to live a certain way.
I started a new book yesterday. That makes a total of seven that I have in my current rotation. That is not a braggy statement, but rather, and indication of my scattered mental state. Just sit down and finish a book already, you know? Anyways.
The book I started is Falling Free by Shannan Martin. I read her introduction with a sort of crazed hunger. A recognition that she was putting to words the emotions that have been circulating in my brain for quite some time. She writes:
God rescued me from the life I always wanted. He plucked my family up from our dream farmhouse, stripped us of our financial stability and personal esteem, and shattered our obsessions with security, safety, and common sense. Without warning he yanked the rungs from the ladder we were busy climbing, and we fell. Down at his feet, unburdened of the things we’d held so tightly in our desperate quest for freedom, we found the life we were made for….The freedom was in the falling.
There are some things in the works for our family that I know in many ways are a forgone conclusion in my heart, but my mind isn’t on board yet and that is causing one heck of an internal tug of war. I feel the stress of my heart saying “yes!” and my head saying “but…”.
Last night, in my frustration over crying babies and naughty little boys, my husband said “They are stubborn, but so are we.”
We are. I am. I don’t do anything just because. And I tend to get frustrated with the general consensus, the majority. I think the reason why, is less because I want to be an outlier and more because I know so acutely that we are all made so wonderfully unique and yet…we have this tendency to fall in line. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t be different.
That frustrates me.
We are different. We are unique. And that is such an incredible gift that we tend to squander at best, or worse – outright reject.
Ok. No more mutterings. It’s Thursday. Here is a glimpse into a few things I’ve loved from this week. Enjoy.
these little pumpkins
Last Sunday, we visited a local Orchard that we’d never been to before. We didn’t really need anything, we just wanted to enjoy the beautiful fall day. We strolled around the pond, through the pumpkin patch, and made a final lap through their store to pick up a bag of kettle corn. I honestly have no idea if the kids will remember all these little excursions when they grow up. And if they do, will they remember them fondly? What I do know, though, is that I’ll remember. I remember them as the absolute sweetest times.
I love that my kids have each other. I love seeing their relationships bud and grow. I love seeing them interact in their own little ways.
And speaking of budding relationships….ai yi yi. Oh these two. Frick and Frack. Oliver, Beatrice, and I went into Theo’s school to have lunch with him the other day. It was chaotic and totally stressful, but I genuinely enjoyed seeing Theo and Oliver interact. Theo was so proud to show off his school, and Oliver felt like he was one cool cat, eating lunch with his big brother. (“Eating lunch” is an exaggeration. No lunch was eaten.)
this new kitchen buddy
I love having my babies in the kitchen with me. I love having Beatrice in her high chair, munching on snacks while cook, or holding her on my hip as I set things on the table. There is such a fullness to the whole experience. A warmth.
This week, I could take my saggy, stretched out, worn out, sad excuse for pants, mom-jeans no longer. It was time to look for a new pair. I packed a billion snacks. I loaded up the stroller and the Beco baby carrier. I packed the diaper bag. I put the kids in their car seats, and away we went.
I spent three hours at the mall, going in and out of stores and dressing rooms, removing the baby carrier and settling Bea and Oliver so that I could try on a pile of jeans, just to load everyone back up and do it all over again in the next store. I nursed Bea while sitting on the floor, surrounded by a pile of rejected denim, while keeping my foot on the door because Oliver kept trying to escape.
Ultimately, I was victorious. I found a pair I loved for an amazing price that fit my body and budget. I wanted to high five the clerk, but she found my children less charming than I, so I settled for a fist bump with Oliver.
Perspective is a funny thing.
I barely went anywhere with Theo, because babies were “so much work.” I never would have even attempted jean shopping on my own with him. And yet this week, I completely crushed it out of the park with a two year old and an eleven month old. Not only did we jean shop, but then we ate lunch and got groceries.
One of the greatest lessons motherhood has taught me is just how strong and capable I am.
I can do hard things.
It’s a lesson that has been in the works for quite some time. And truth be told, it’s a lesson I’ve hated learning at times. (Would I have accepted a kid-free shopping day if someone offered it to me? Sure.) But man, I’m proud of how far I’ve come. Life with kids isn’t easy, but life isn’t easy. I’m grateful that they’ve shown me that it’s not worth staying in, wearing jeans that make you feel like a dirty old shoe, just because you are a mom.
Motherhood is not the great limiter that I once thought it was – my perspective is what limits me. My own insecurities and whining and perceived weaknesses are what hold me back, not my kids.
I am mom, hear me roar.