The Time We Are Given

It turns out that having teenagers/young adults is actually time consuming.  I know, news flash for all of you who've walked this path, but I just didn't quite understand it.  I was reading Rachel Hollis' Girl Wash Your Face (which by the way is delightful) and she has this chapter on new borns and how hard they are.  As I was reading it, I could not help but think . . . wait, I feel that same way . . . now with teenagers!  I don't get sleep, I'm constantly worried they're going to get hurt or kill themselves or worse, and I can't control anything and I mostly don't have any idea what they need or are saying . . . and you really never know if you're going to get any sleep because they come home late, or when they do come home they want to chat (if you're lucky) or just stomp off and don't want to talk at all and then you're worried for a whole other reason.

Time consuming AND stressful.

What the heck?

I guess parenting is just sort of a lot of work . . . like . . . forever.

What have I gotten myself into?

Honestly.

I say all these hard things . . . and sometimes, like two nights ago when we were trying again to go to bed at 12:40am, I told John, We will NEVER ever ever SLEEP again, will we? . . . it all does just seem hard, but I don't really mean its all hard.  Just mostly hard . ..

Now, I say this because I am choosing to learn from the years of crazy in my life.  I ran into my friend at the grocery store yesterday with four young children.  She was exhausted and frustrated and apologizing for being so absentminded of a friend.  I seriously hugged her and apologized right back because I didn't even notice because I was so worried I was being the spacey one.  We laughed and decided we were meant to be friends.  She said she just doesn't even know who she is anymore.  And I told her, Oh, yeah, I gave up on being anything years ago. I am this miasma who floats around doing others bidding and helping and healing and fixing and cleaning and folding and cooking and generally taking care of the world.  That is who I am.  Mary no longer exists.

Doesn't that sound horrible?

I used to think when women said things like that they they were three things: 1) totally subservient, spineless women who seriously need to get a life; 2) completely wrong, I mean, how could you lose yourself . . . you've got a body and an name and all that and; 3) so so sad  . . . like pathetic.

Yep.  I am telling you right now,  karma is REAL.  It always comes back to bite you in your sweet fanny.  EVERY.  Single.  Time.

So, back to me, twenty years later and I have to say, losing myself might be the best thing that ever happened to me.  Because younger, wiser, sassier me was sort of blind and ok, I'll say it, judgmental, unmovable, only one way is right and it's my way type of person.  I thought I was happy but I'm telling you right now, I was spending a lot of time figuring out why everyone else was wrong and I was right and better and stronger and smarter and all that, that I didn't take much time to see the good around me.

Then life beat me down and melted me into a puddle of nothing.  Seriously, all these assumptions I made about how to have children (not as easy as it seems), raise children (seriously, they are chaos in action . . . there is NO order, like in ANYTHING), be a super happy at home mom (turns out, its sort of like you work the hardest of anyone in the universe EVER . . . really, if you're thinking about it, I'm going with working is easier  . . .), and then a good church goer, friend, sister, daughter, daughter in law, you name it.  Well, I'm not as good at any of these things as I thought I was.  In fact, sometimes I'm horrible at them.  I am cranky, I am mean, I am mean spirited, I doubt, I crush, I hurt, and I hurl insults like the best of them.  And that's ok.

Really, it is.

Because we all do.

And that's what I've learned being this blob.  You may not be anything perfectly, but you are infinitely amazing and can become anything and anyone you want.  Really, the shape I thought I needed to be was holding me back from the thousand and one things I could become or do become on a daily basis.  Sometimes I'm a mama.  Sometimes I'm a crazy and scatter brained PTA president. Sometimes I'm a good friend.  Sometimes I'm a   .  . . .

And I just got interrupted for the 5th time since beginning writing 35 minutes ago (I've only actually written for 15) and I've lost my train of thought.  Because I have no time.

Wait.

That's not true.  I have time. I'm just choosing to spend it making breakfast for the kids and then visiting with them while they eat.  And then getting jobs going (it's Thursday, cleaning day in our house) and then the windows need to be shut because it's July and the AC is on already, because it's SOOOO hot.

Don't you love the power that infuses you with?   I choose . . .

Oh I love that.  It's all about perspective.  That's what I'm saying I guess with all my steam of consciousness, instead of being limited by what you think you should be, just be or become what you want or are needed to be.  Don't limit yourself or even anyone around you.

I'm so good at that.  Limiting myself and especially good at limiting those around me. My sweet oldest (you are our guinea pig . . . I'm so sorry!) since getting engaged and then married, has gained a few twenty pounds.  He's chubby.  Sort of like when he was a baby, skinny arms and legs, and a sweet Buda belly.  I love that boy.  But I spent a few months trying to get him skinny again. I thought I was being thoughtful and veiling my comments (the stupidest things we ever do . . . I mean, everyone sees right through veiled comments . . . just SAY IT) so I wasn't hurting his feelings, but I totally was.  Poor thing, right before he got married I pushed on his pillowy belly and said, Suck this in.  This has got to go. (I was tired.  It was late.  He was giving us trouble with his wedding clothes and I was being very very wrong . . . I know.  I chose bad!).

And my sweet boy just looked up at me and seriously, I thought he's either going to cry or punch me (which I may deserve), instead he just looked at me for a minute and turned around and walked away.

Ug.

My baby was getting married in three days and I just crushed his little heart.

What was WRONG with me?

And then I had this seriously sickening thought . . . Oh my heck (only I didn't think heck), is my love conditional?

Is it?

And I'm going to be honest again here and say that I had to think about this for a few days.  Like maybe even a week.  It was a sick and horrid long week where I did some serious soul searching and saw some real UGLY in myself.  But I finally did  come to the absolute conclusion that . . .

No. My love was not conditional.

I love him.  I love him to bits and I think the world of him and I'm proud of all the good things he does and I hurt for all the stupid things he does, but that doesn't change that deep soul connection of love.

I never ever wanted him to think that my love had limits and conditions.  EVER.

So I made this vow to not be stingy with my love or my adoration and appreciation to Henry and really, to everyone.  I have in many areas of my life been stingy.  It's so stupid.  And I'm stopping.  Sure I still give suggestions (and he may need them), but if he doesn't follow them, I'm all good.  It's his life and most of all, I just want him to know I've got his back. I'm here for him and I will love him no matter what.


So I can change.  I can say sorry and start again.  I can choose my shape and how I spend my time.  I can be whatever I want or am needed to be.  If I am unhappy or discouraged or frustrated, it's only my fault.  So change it.  Or change me.  There's always a choice.

And now my questions for you, homework if you like:

What will you choose?

How will you spend your days? What shape will you choose today?

What will you do with the time you have been given?

This is my parting question . . .  and one I ask myself every day.

If given the option . . . I say, do good.  Choose good.  Be, as far as possible, a good person. Share love and don't be stingy with anything.  Tell people around you, you love them.  You think they are smart and ingenious and good workers and just look stinking good today.  Share every good thought that pops into your head.  For reals, what can it hurt?  Nothing.  What good can it do?  Maybe, just maybe . . . . everything.

And the world will be a much better place for it.

Who doesn't want a better world?

And PS, you're amazing.  You are strong.  You are beautiful. You are full of infinite promise.  And it's never ever too late to say sorry and share your love with everyone.  I promise.