Hello all. Remember me? I'm the chubby fiesty blonde that promised to vent my problems to you all at least weekly but hasn't even accomplished doing it monthly. Well that's just how it goes, doesn't it? I have two happy healthy little boys who love activites. Sports, church, school...you name it. Dora the Explorer has basically turned into a mobile locker room. But I am not complaining because one day there will not be anyone to take to practice.
Soooo before those water works start I gotta tell you it's been a trying summer. I'm talking the kinda of summer where you stop in your footsteps and literally say out loud "You are working hard on this ole gal, ain't ya Devil?" I've got a lot on my heart. A lot. Just like I know every single one of you do. I sympathize with you. It's the kind of "a lot" that makes you watch Grey's Anatomy at 11:00 p.m. on a Sunday night while the hubs, tiny humans, and fur babies are restfully sleeping. It's the kind of "a lot" that makes you wonder "What else?" But you are always so scared to ask that question because you KNOW there can ALWAYS be something ELSE. And the "a lot" turns into hurt. The hurt? That eventually turns into hardening your heart. And that, my dear dear friends, is some dangerous territory.
So tonight I write......
If you are like me when something happens in your life a lot of times when you reflect back on that event you can sum it up in a word. Maybe it's love. Or maybe it's grief. Or maybe it's forgiveness. It's almost like that single event in your life could be the Webster's dictionary definition for that single word. (I like to call it the Brittany's dictionary but I am working mother of two so who has time for copyrights) When I reflect on two of my biggest hurts from this summer one word pops into my mind: "politics" Living in a small town where everyone knows everybody the politics are going to happen. Someone is going to advance and the other person is not. And not because of skill, knowledge or ability but because every other Tuesday morning Tom has coffee with Joe at Sammon's and if Tom picks Sam over Joe for whatever reason then Joe might get butt hurt and Tom can't handle that Joe may not want to have coffee at Sammon's with him anymore. Who cares that Sam is the right person for the position? Tom needs his coffee, dangum it. This good ole boy philosophy has hurt (and I mean HURT) two of the people I love most in this world and has given me a little less faith in humanity and made me question a lot. One is an adult and one is a child. I have always said that it is both a blessing and a curse to live in Murray KY. Both of these hurts that occurred less than a month from each other hardened me. I felt it when it happened. I felt the walls close up. I felt the muscles tightened. I felt the hole actually go through my tongue as I bit it. The choosers in both these scenarios chose wrong and it messed with my people. Mess with me all you want, but mess with the ones I love and it's more than this gal can handle. See? Hardened.
So tonight I write.......
Some of the hardened is not caused my other people's actions. Some of it is just life. I mean, those messy ole life events that's just going to happen. It's the punches. It's the mean left hook that sometimes life gives you when you are not looking. It's the big things, like sick family members (this one I don't have it in me to discuss right now but I encourage you stay tune to future posts) or the loss of something or someone close to you. It's the little things like missed deadlines, sending your kid to school on picture day in camo, and the dog pooping in the floor. These hits, these punches, they wear you down. And while the little things may just be jabs compared to the big hits left hooks, any of it is going to defeat you. It's going to mess with you. It's going to eventually be a lot. It's going to be a hurt. It's going to harden.
So tonight I write......
This weekend has been a weekend of punches and jabs. I have been face to face, toe to toe with people who when I was pre-divorce-rainbows-unicorns-naive Brittany, I never would have believed would have turned on me. And they did. I sit here before Meredith Grey and tell you THEY DID. They judged. They scoffed. They took their backs and did a complete 180 on this ole gal. This weekend I feel like I had the privilege (I really mean pain) of being face to face, toe to toe which most everyone of them in some way or another. Maybe physically. Maybe not. But it was enough that I caught myself alone in the house today, stop in my tracks and say "You got it in for me this weekend don't ya ole Devil?" As I mentioned earlier I have a word for each time I think of these people/events. These people who I literally do pray for occasionally (probably not as much as I should have, but hey we all need a little room to grow) although I honestly feel like they never have said one for me. These "Non-praying for Brittany" people, when I think of them I think: Loyalty. And I guess it can go unsaid that I don't mean they are loyal...pretty sure that is a given. What I mean is that I thought that some of these people would be loyal to me to the grave. That whatever left hook or jab that life gave me that they would be there to pick me up, encourage me and love me. I was wrong. And that my friends, in my honest opinion is the hurt that will harden you the most. I've been there. I've done that. And I can tell you that it does. Blood makes you related. Loyalty makes you family.
So tonight I write......
While I did feel the harden just this very weekend. And while past hurts came up and bit me on the rear end this weekend. I had to come up with something good. Something to help me not start my week as harden as I was. (Trust me I am still very harden but the Good Lord knows I am a work in progress) You know what I did? I went to that Good Lord myself. This morning I went away from my church family, took along my tribe member, and we went and visited another church where our church family's preacher was preaching for Homecoming. We sung ole hymns that I haven't heard in years out of old hymn books with actual pages (that even had the ole hymn book smell). I held my tribe member's hand as we ALWAYS do when we pray. I was together with a tribe member worshipping the Lord, as I am most every Sunday but it was different this morning. The Lord knew I needed what I got and it was good for the soul. That's the first thing. You wanna know the second thing I did? (If you don't then just stop reading because I'm going to tell you anyway) I went and watched another tribe member's daughter be baptized. This again was out of my comfort zone. I went to a place of worship that I have never been to and watched a father, who is a friend I think so much of, baptize his little girl in a horse trough. I did that. Today. I sat right beside my tribe member and watched a little girl decide to turn her life over to the Lord and ya'll, I got to see it happen. Right there. Before my eyes. I got to see her glow and her hope knowing that the Lord has wrapped her up. And it reminded me that life is going to throw me left hooks. Life is going to hurt me. Life is going to harden me. But I think that's okay. Because I believe between the Lord wrapping His arms around me and good ole hymn books with actual pages in them, that I may just be okay.
And with that, I'm done writing for tonight.
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Monday, April 3, 2017
This Ain't It
The past few weeks work has been insane. Life has been insane. INSANE. And not bad insane. Crazy busy insane. But it's like that for everyone, isn't it? Maybe not all the time but at least some of the time.
Today one of the members of my tribe and I were walking. And when tribe members get together to walk they talk about as fast as they walk, (in case you are a boy and you didn't know.) She was telling me an article she read about the diet Whole30. It was helping to motivate people to stay on the diet and blah blah blah. When she first told me about it, we were talking like the article was meant for you to hear it. About how staying on a diet and eating the proper things that go along with it doesn't compare to the real hard things in life. It made sense.
Then I came home and I got to thinking. While it does help with hopefully keeping me from downing another 4 for 4 from Wendy's for a second day in a row, it also makes sense for the everyday occurrences. I shall share a few of my thoughts on my subject.
Stealing from the article to make my point, you know what's hard? Beating cancer. You know what's not? Dealing with payroll (while it is a pain in the butt and should be banned in all 50 states) You know what's hard? Birthing a baby. You know what's not? The early morning rush to get the kids to school before that dreadful bell rings. You know what's hard? Losing a parent. You know what's not? Dealing with that pile of dirty laundry and dishes that just will not go away.
Recently during Sunday School our teacher said something that has literally stuck with me every day since. In fact, it has even gotten me through a few days. He said (of course paraphrasing because well it's me) "Imagine your worst day. The worst day you have had in your life. Each of you are picturing a day right now. That was a bad day. Now when someone asks me 'Are you having a bad day?' I say, 'I have seen a bad day. This isn't it.'" Wow, y'all. Just wow. I sat there and I imagined my worst day. It instantly popped in my head. And I thought there have been days when I was really stressed, when I was at my wits in and I called it a bad day. There have been days when work had me to the end of my rope. There have been days that have started so chaotic because a little boy took 10 minutes to put on one shoe. Was that a bad day? No. I have seen a bad day. That wasn't it.
When we are down, when we are at the end of our rope, when we are really throwing ourselves a pity party we hear people say "Well you know someone has it worst than you." or "Just be thankful you are not this person because they are going through this." And honestly if you are like me that literally goes in one ear and out the other. While I am so thankful and blessed with what I have in my life at that moment, in the middle of my Brittany pity party, that's the last thing I want to hear. But when it gets personal, when it comes down and makes me think about MY bad day that's when it is a little easier. Yes, I am throwing myself a pity party. Yes maybe I deserve it but you know what? THIS, this is not my bad day.
We've all gone through hard stuff. Everyone of us. Maybe it was a day. Maybe it was years, but we have gone through it. But the key words are "through it." We have gotten through it. We have gotten through things harder than this. WE have. YOU have. Not a neighbor or a friend of a friend. YOU have done it. Think about it. And the next time you are down, you are at the end of your rope, you have that look on your face that you could absolutely kill the next person that asks you "Are you having a bad day?" (and the only thing that is stopping you is that orange is not your color and you don't look good in stripes), STOP and tell yourself, "I have gotten through hard. I have seen a bad day. And this ain't it."
Today one of the members of my tribe and I were walking. And when tribe members get together to walk they talk about as fast as they walk, (in case you are a boy and you didn't know.) She was telling me an article she read about the diet Whole30. It was helping to motivate people to stay on the diet and blah blah blah. When she first told me about it, we were talking like the article was meant for you to hear it. About how staying on a diet and eating the proper things that go along with it doesn't compare to the real hard things in life. It made sense.
Then I came home and I got to thinking. While it does help with hopefully keeping me from downing another 4 for 4 from Wendy's for a second day in a row, it also makes sense for the everyday occurrences. I shall share a few of my thoughts on my subject.
Stealing from the article to make my point, you know what's hard? Beating cancer. You know what's not? Dealing with payroll (while it is a pain in the butt and should be banned in all 50 states) You know what's hard? Birthing a baby. You know what's not? The early morning rush to get the kids to school before that dreadful bell rings. You know what's hard? Losing a parent. You know what's not? Dealing with that pile of dirty laundry and dishes that just will not go away.
Recently during Sunday School our teacher said something that has literally stuck with me every day since. In fact, it has even gotten me through a few days. He said (of course paraphrasing because well it's me) "Imagine your worst day. The worst day you have had in your life. Each of you are picturing a day right now. That was a bad day. Now when someone asks me 'Are you having a bad day?' I say, 'I have seen a bad day. This isn't it.'" Wow, y'all. Just wow. I sat there and I imagined my worst day. It instantly popped in my head. And I thought there have been days when I was really stressed, when I was at my wits in and I called it a bad day. There have been days when work had me to the end of my rope. There have been days that have started so chaotic because a little boy took 10 minutes to put on one shoe. Was that a bad day? No. I have seen a bad day. That wasn't it.
When we are down, when we are at the end of our rope, when we are really throwing ourselves a pity party we hear people say "Well you know someone has it worst than you." or "Just be thankful you are not this person because they are going through this." And honestly if you are like me that literally goes in one ear and out the other. While I am so thankful and blessed with what I have in my life at that moment, in the middle of my Brittany pity party, that's the last thing I want to hear. But when it gets personal, when it comes down and makes me think about MY bad day that's when it is a little easier. Yes, I am throwing myself a pity party. Yes maybe I deserve it but you know what? THIS, this is not my bad day.
We've all gone through hard stuff. Everyone of us. Maybe it was a day. Maybe it was years, but we have gone through it. But the key words are "through it." We have gotten through it. We have gotten through things harder than this. WE have. YOU have. Not a neighbor or a friend of a friend. YOU have done it. Think about it. And the next time you are down, you are at the end of your rope, you have that look on your face that you could absolutely kill the next person that asks you "Are you having a bad day?" (and the only thing that is stopping you is that orange is not your color and you don't look good in stripes), STOP and tell yourself, "I have gotten through hard. I have seen a bad day. And this ain't it."
Monday, February 13, 2017
My Boy has Discovered Girls
Let's flashback a simple eight months ago, shall we? Eight months ago when 100% of my children were convinced that girls had cooties and were considered the spawn of Satan. Eight months ago when My Big One only cared about picking up a ball in whatever sports season it was and was graduating the big 5th grade. Sigh. Those were the days.
Now, let's fast forward to today when now only 50% of my children are convinced that girls have cooties and are the spawn of Satan. The other 50%? He has discovered girls and life as I know it is over. Which 50% am I referring to? Well I will give you a hint. It ain't My Little One.
It was all cute about 4 months ago when he sat down with me and decided he was going to ask a little girl to be his girlfriend. I got all excited. My baby was going to have his first little girlfriend! We talked about how he should do it, how he was going to handle it if she said "No" and had an all around good Boy to Mama chat. Presh.
Well that little girl said "Yes" but only lasted maybe 3 weeks. Meh, it was fun while it lasted. Still My Big One and his little friends constantly talked about "Who liked who?" And "Will you ask her out for me?" If one said "No" no problem! They would just move right on down the roster until one said "Yes." Mission completed.
About 6 weeks ago, My Big One found one he really really liked. He asked her to be his girlfriend, she said "Yes" and the child has giggled every since. You say her name, he giggles. Her name shows up on his phone, he giggles. He is now walking around in a cloud because of a gender that he would have swore a year ago needed a "Circle circle dot dot" shot.
Because of this recent development I have spent the last hour at Walmart because it is Valentine's Day Eve and he felt the need to find her the perfect card, to go with the perfect chocolates to go with the perfect Teddy Bear (holding a heart and all) Sigh. When did this happen? It literally happened overnight. They told me it would. They told me it would hit me like a ton of bricks. I laughed and told them they were crazy, not MY boy. I was wrong. My apologies. This child. This child who will only allow me to kiss the top of his head is the same child who "Middle School slow danced" with his girl at the Valentine's Day dance. This child who refuses to let me hold his hand in a parking lot anymore is the same child who kissed his girl on the cheek. You know what Mama would give for a kiss on the cheek out of the blue?! What is life? I am looking for answers here people! Send help. Again, sigh.
In other news, My Little One informed me that he didn't want any other girl to be his Valentine other than his Mommy. He then asked me to buy him a stuffed puppy dog so he could sleep with it and know I gave it to him. I bought him ALL the stuffed puppies and reiterated once again how little girls might possibly be evil and that he should just stay mine forever to be safe. He agreed. There is hope.
Sigh.
God Bless Mama's Who's Little Boys Discover Girls. And also America.
Now, let's fast forward to today when now only 50% of my children are convinced that girls have cooties and are the spawn of Satan. The other 50%? He has discovered girls and life as I know it is over. Which 50% am I referring to? Well I will give you a hint. It ain't My Little One.
It was all cute about 4 months ago when he sat down with me and decided he was going to ask a little girl to be his girlfriend. I got all excited. My baby was going to have his first little girlfriend! We talked about how he should do it, how he was going to handle it if she said "No" and had an all around good Boy to Mama chat. Presh.
Well that little girl said "Yes" but only lasted maybe 3 weeks. Meh, it was fun while it lasted. Still My Big One and his little friends constantly talked about "Who liked who?" And "Will you ask her out for me?" If one said "No" no problem! They would just move right on down the roster until one said "Yes." Mission completed.
About 6 weeks ago, My Big One found one he really really liked. He asked her to be his girlfriend, she said "Yes" and the child has giggled every since. You say her name, he giggles. Her name shows up on his phone, he giggles. He is now walking around in a cloud because of a gender that he would have swore a year ago needed a "Circle circle dot dot" shot.
Because of this recent development I have spent the last hour at Walmart because it is Valentine's Day Eve and he felt the need to find her the perfect card, to go with the perfect chocolates to go with the perfect Teddy Bear (holding a heart and all) Sigh. When did this happen? It literally happened overnight. They told me it would. They told me it would hit me like a ton of bricks. I laughed and told them they were crazy, not MY boy. I was wrong. My apologies. This child. This child who will only allow me to kiss the top of his head is the same child who "Middle School slow danced" with his girl at the Valentine's Day dance. This child who refuses to let me hold his hand in a parking lot anymore is the same child who kissed his girl on the cheek. You know what Mama would give for a kiss on the cheek out of the blue?! What is life? I am looking for answers here people! Send help. Again, sigh.
In other news, My Little One informed me that he didn't want any other girl to be his Valentine other than his Mommy. He then asked me to buy him a stuffed puppy dog so he could sleep with it and know I gave it to him. I bought him ALL the stuffed puppies and reiterated once again how little girls might possibly be evil and that he should just stay mine forever to be safe. He agreed. There is hope.
Sigh.
God Bless Mama's Who's Little Boys Discover Girls. And also America.
Sunday, February 12, 2017
No Room for Error: I'm Talking to Myself Here
Hello? Hello?! Is this thing on?? Can you hear me now??
It's been three weeks since I introduced this blog to the world. I'm sure you all have thought that I was a "one and done" type of blogger but I am here to tell you that you are incorrect. There hasn't been a night after I have said my prayers and before I went to sleep that I didn't think of what I could/should have wrote on my blog for that day. Why didn't I, you ask? Because if we are being honest it's been a rough few weeks on this ole gal. And it's been rough in every aspect of my life, work, home, gym/scale, you name it. But we all have those periods don't we? Those times when the hits just keep coming and about the time you think you get your feet back under you here comes another punch. And it's the little things isn't it? It's the little things that honestly beat you more than the big things. I have said a lot in the past few weeks to members of my tribe that it's like there is a fire lit. And before said fire dies out something else comes along and pours just a little gasoline on it to make it bigger. It might be a cup of gasoline, it might be a gallon, but it's gasoline on a fire nonetheless. So don't think that my little outlet here has slipped my mind. It's just sometimes it's hard to put "throwing gasoline on the fire of life" into words where you know people won't immediately send psychiatric help. (Which you know may not be the worst idea in the world. I'm kidding. Maybe)
Something people who know me through my life has always said is that I do things to the extreme. Everyone from my own mother, to my tribe to even my chiropractor. "Hello my name is Brittany and if I am going to do it I am going to do it to the extreme." Because of this cute little quirk I have it also means that there is no room error when it comes to me executing these things. Now don't get me wrong, the people that I see/interact with every day also have this standard to an extent. The Hubs and the tiny humans in my house, God Bless Them, I hold them to this standard to a degree as well. Not as much as I do as Extreme Brittany, but definitely to a degree. No room for errors. Errors are for the weak, for the people who don't have their life together. That's the definition in my head the majority of the time.
During these past trying weeks of gasoline on a fire, errors have occurred. And I was driving the big ole error bus. I lost something important at work. And it broke me. Broke. Me. You see, I don't do that. I don't lose things at work. I know where everything is and actually do my best to have it ready to go for someone before they even ask for it. If you are going to have something ready to go before someone asks for it, you kinda can't lose it. It broke me for a whole day. The something important totally could be fixed (and you can bet your rear end I fixed it) but the fact of the matter is, it was lost and I had lost it. Unacceptable in my mind.
Fast forward 24 hours. I had fixed the something important that had been lost, actually stopped literally sobbing over it, and could entertain the idea of speaking about it again. I am at lunch with a tribe member and she informs me that she is working through lunch the next day to attend her daughter's Valentine's party. We have children the same age. If her daughter is having a Valentine's party that means my son is too. Guess what? That is news to me. Brand spankin' news to me. My heart stops. I knew nothing of the party. It was February 10th for goodness sakes'. I had not prepared to attend. I had not prepared little Valentine cards for him to pass out to the little rugrats in his class. I was in no way prepared for him to take a cute little Pinterest Valentine box that I would make from scratch and it would be the grandest thing ever and he would be the most popular kid in school because he has the most awesome Valentine box. Was not prepared for that at all. Guess what this was? An error. I don't do errors (see definition above) Yet here I was again. Gasoline on a fire. Did it all work out? Yes. Did I run to Walmart and pick out the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Valentine cards and frantically text another mother to get the list of rugrats? I did. Did I work through lunch and attend the child's party? Yup. Did I make the Pinterest Valentine box that was going to make him the most popular child in 3rd grade? Nope (I bought the matching Turtle box because frankly you can't win them all) I fixed it. I made it. It was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't in my mind. I had messed up. I made an error. I had looked over the little half sheet of paper in the child's bookbag and had no clue there was a party. If it hadn't been for the tribe member I would have missed it completely and my child would have shown up with nothing. But I fixed it, right? It was all okay, right? Wrong. The thoughts start. "What else have I missed?" "What other error have I made that is going to affect my children?" "Why can't I get my crap together?" And again. I broke.
So I have been thinking about this whole "No Room for Error" thing. And how it absolutely exhausts me. I mean it is exhausting! It wears me to a point at times that I don't even recognize myself anymore. Because as I am working frantically to fix the one "error" I have let the ball drop on another aspect of life because I am broken over the first said "error" What do I need to work on? I need to work on telling myself that things happen. That important things get lost. That little half sheets of paper get overlooked in 3rd graders bookbags. That I will forget things. That I will screw something up. And that it will be okay. Like really it will be okay. Will someone point my error out to me? Yeah probably. Will it hurt like hell when they do because that is honestly just salt in my wound? Absolutely. But should I be okay with it "breaking" me every time? Absolutely not. I need to remind myself if I let these things that are going to happen that I lovingly refer to as "errors" that I cannot break. That in fact me breaking over an error is an even bigger error. I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and be thankful that most of the time I can fix it. Now my little naive mind knows that this is something that might be easier said than done. Right now I am programmed that way. I am programmed to not allow errors. But my hope is that if I can teach myself a little bit at a time that errors are GOING to happen, then maybe I can allow just that much more peace in my life.
That's what's on my heart tonight. We'll see what happens.
Until next time, God Bless America.
It's been three weeks since I introduced this blog to the world. I'm sure you all have thought that I was a "one and done" type of blogger but I am here to tell you that you are incorrect. There hasn't been a night after I have said my prayers and before I went to sleep that I didn't think of what I could/should have wrote on my blog for that day. Why didn't I, you ask? Because if we are being honest it's been a rough few weeks on this ole gal. And it's been rough in every aspect of my life, work, home, gym/scale, you name it. But we all have those periods don't we? Those times when the hits just keep coming and about the time you think you get your feet back under you here comes another punch. And it's the little things isn't it? It's the little things that honestly beat you more than the big things. I have said a lot in the past few weeks to members of my tribe that it's like there is a fire lit. And before said fire dies out something else comes along and pours just a little gasoline on it to make it bigger. It might be a cup of gasoline, it might be a gallon, but it's gasoline on a fire nonetheless. So don't think that my little outlet here has slipped my mind. It's just sometimes it's hard to put "throwing gasoline on the fire of life" into words where you know people won't immediately send psychiatric help. (Which you know may not be the worst idea in the world. I'm kidding. Maybe)
Something people who know me through my life has always said is that I do things to the extreme. Everyone from my own mother, to my tribe to even my chiropractor. "Hello my name is Brittany and if I am going to do it I am going to do it to the extreme." Because of this cute little quirk I have it also means that there is no room error when it comes to me executing these things. Now don't get me wrong, the people that I see/interact with every day also have this standard to an extent. The Hubs and the tiny humans in my house, God Bless Them, I hold them to this standard to a degree as well. Not as much as I do as Extreme Brittany, but definitely to a degree. No room for errors. Errors are for the weak, for the people who don't have their life together. That's the definition in my head the majority of the time.
During these past trying weeks of gasoline on a fire, errors have occurred. And I was driving the big ole error bus. I lost something important at work. And it broke me. Broke. Me. You see, I don't do that. I don't lose things at work. I know where everything is and actually do my best to have it ready to go for someone before they even ask for it. If you are going to have something ready to go before someone asks for it, you kinda can't lose it. It broke me for a whole day. The something important totally could be fixed (and you can bet your rear end I fixed it) but the fact of the matter is, it was lost and I had lost it. Unacceptable in my mind.
Fast forward 24 hours. I had fixed the something important that had been lost, actually stopped literally sobbing over it, and could entertain the idea of speaking about it again. I am at lunch with a tribe member and she informs me that she is working through lunch the next day to attend her daughter's Valentine's party. We have children the same age. If her daughter is having a Valentine's party that means my son is too. Guess what? That is news to me. Brand spankin' news to me. My heart stops. I knew nothing of the party. It was February 10th for goodness sakes'. I had not prepared to attend. I had not prepared little Valentine cards for him to pass out to the little rugrats in his class. I was in no way prepared for him to take a cute little Pinterest Valentine box that I would make from scratch and it would be the grandest thing ever and he would be the most popular kid in school because he has the most awesome Valentine box. Was not prepared for that at all. Guess what this was? An error. I don't do errors (see definition above) Yet here I was again. Gasoline on a fire. Did it all work out? Yes. Did I run to Walmart and pick out the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Valentine cards and frantically text another mother to get the list of rugrats? I did. Did I work through lunch and attend the child's party? Yup. Did I make the Pinterest Valentine box that was going to make him the most popular child in 3rd grade? Nope (I bought the matching Turtle box because frankly you can't win them all) I fixed it. I made it. It was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't in my mind. I had messed up. I made an error. I had looked over the little half sheet of paper in the child's bookbag and had no clue there was a party. If it hadn't been for the tribe member I would have missed it completely and my child would have shown up with nothing. But I fixed it, right? It was all okay, right? Wrong. The thoughts start. "What else have I missed?" "What other error have I made that is going to affect my children?" "Why can't I get my crap together?" And again. I broke.
So I have been thinking about this whole "No Room for Error" thing. And how it absolutely exhausts me. I mean it is exhausting! It wears me to a point at times that I don't even recognize myself anymore. Because as I am working frantically to fix the one "error" I have let the ball drop on another aspect of life because I am broken over the first said "error" What do I need to work on? I need to work on telling myself that things happen. That important things get lost. That little half sheets of paper get overlooked in 3rd graders bookbags. That I will forget things. That I will screw something up. And that it will be okay. Like really it will be okay. Will someone point my error out to me? Yeah probably. Will it hurt like hell when they do because that is honestly just salt in my wound? Absolutely. But should I be okay with it "breaking" me every time? Absolutely not. I need to remind myself if I let these things that are going to happen that I lovingly refer to as "errors" that I cannot break. That in fact me breaking over an error is an even bigger error. I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and be thankful that most of the time I can fix it. Now my little naive mind knows that this is something that might be easier said than done. Right now I am programmed that way. I am programmed to not allow errors. But my hope is that if I can teach myself a little bit at a time that errors are GOING to happen, then maybe I can allow just that much more peace in my life.
That's what's on my heart tonight. We'll see what happens.
Until next time, God Bless America.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
First Time for Everything
Well hello there. I must say this is a first. My first post ever on my very first blog. I'm not one for firsts. I am a kinda "Let's go with no change" kind of gal. But something has clicked with me over the past year. A nagging little pain in the rear called "anxiety" It's something I feel like I have always had but have become very aware of it as of lately. I have learned that writing helps. Just putting it all out there. Cause you know what? If you put on your big girl panties and put it out there you end up learning that they are several people going through the exact same thing you are. And you know what? They are scared to say. They feel like they are alone. They feel like by looking at the "Facebook highlight reel" that everyone has it together. They do the Pinterest snacks. They do the carpools, the PTA meetings, the classroom volunteering. But guess what? There is a very good chance they feel alone as well. I feel like a fail at a lot of things. Being a mother? That's my #1.
I said all of that to say this, I have decided to use this blog as an out. A way for me to vent and a way for someone to read it and realize they are so far from being alone. Let me just tell you know. There will be spelling errors. There will be grammatical errors. In regards to such errors, hear me now believe me later, I do not care. This is coming from my heart and if you know me, I have a lot of errors.
In this blog you can expect some funny posts, some boymom posts, some serious posts, some whatever posts. I am a very random person with the most random thoughts ever. And now I have had the bright idea of putting that in writing for you poor people to read when you can't sleep at 2:00 a.m.
God. Bless. America.
I said all of that to say this, I have decided to use this blog as an out. A way for me to vent and a way for someone to read it and realize they are so far from being alone. Let me just tell you know. There will be spelling errors. There will be grammatical errors. In regards to such errors, hear me now believe me later, I do not care. This is coming from my heart and if you know me, I have a lot of errors.
In this blog you can expect some funny posts, some boymom posts, some serious posts, some whatever posts. I am a very random person with the most random thoughts ever. And now I have had the bright idea of putting that in writing for you poor people to read when you can't sleep at 2:00 a.m.
God. Bless. America.
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