I’m sorry I haven’t written in a while. I have been suffering from writer’s block. Which is strange since I am writing mostly about my life and my memories. I am still living and have the experiences of life every single day. I cut people off in traffic. I hold the door for people at the gas station. I trip over my own feet. Just recently I got a new elliptical machine and for the first few times using it I realized how uncoordinated I really am. So it isn’t that I don’t have memories or life to write about. So what is the problem?
The problem with writing about my life is that one singular person is not having a life, it is intertwined with other people’s lives and how do I tell my story without telling their’s? I purposely do not write names of my loving family mostly because I am not trying to tell their story. I am telling mine.
We all come to this world with our own set of eyes. We can all have the same experiences but walk away with our own version of what the hell just happened. For instance when I wrote about my children heading to the dingle and how terrified I was that they would fall in…they told me that they were heading toward the dingle on purpose, the dingle was the destination in their contraption from hell.
I want to tell my story without embarrassing those who have crossed my path. My version is unique to me. I have been acutely aware that people in the same experience may experience it differently and I also understand that this can cause many arguments and fights. This is exactly why I would have my children do “mock trials” when they were arguing. They had to bring their case to “Mom’s court” and this was so that my children understood that there is always more than one side. I wanted my children to be understanding and compassionate. I wanted them to have an open mind and a willingness to hear another person out. What would the world look like if we listened as much as we talked? Look at social media, it is set up around throwing your ideas out there and not listening to anyone else’s ideas. Maybe they need time in “Mom’s court”?
I remember one time my son and I were having a heated discussion, which was strange because he was not one that pushed the envelope, and I stood there in the HEAT and less listening and more shouting. I finally said to him “One of us needs a time out and I don’t even know which one, so I am going to my room and you are going to yours. When we both have calmed down we will try to hear each other out.” Being aware of my limitations as a human and remaining humble helped me as a parent. I was not always right and I was able to admit it. In that ability it didn’t create a weak mother who had children walking over her. Instead my children and I had respect for one another. We worked together to resolve our differences and it taught them that it is perfectly okay to not know everything.
When I became a parent, and adult for that matter, I was like “Who the fuck allowed this to happen? I don’t know everything yet. How the hell can I parent when I don’t know everything?” Then when they handed me my little pink swaddle I was like “Hey there little angel. You and I are going to figure this out together, how does that sound?” We did figure it out together. My children grew to be confident and compassionate and humble. They knew that it was perfectly normal to learn and grow well into adulthood. They don’t have to know everything.
If you are a parent or adult and you feel like “Who the fuck is in charge up there? I am not ready for this!” I say to you, it’s okay! You grow every single day. You are allowed to say to your children “I don’t know, but we can learn together.” You can ask for help. You can go to therapy. You can join a support group. You can take some classes. You can continue to learn and grow and to really get to know yourself. You can ask yourself “Am I giving myself the very best?” “Am I living my life as I intended?” “What is my purpose?” You honestly do not really ever have to have an answer. Your answer to these questions can change a million times over. This is how we grow.
As I have always told my children: You are going to make mistakes, make the ones where you can face yourself in the mirror! If you are having a hard time living with your mistakes then explore them and try to find out what your mistakes are trying to teach you.
Also I have said: You are not better than anyone else and no one is better than you. We were all created in the image of God. All of us. Even those people you do not like. Loving God means loving yourself and others, even those you do not agree with.
Please don’t think I am perfect because I so am NOT by any stretch of the imagination. I know I am imperfect. I know I have limitations and short comings. Such as, when my husband does laundry, I am livid. Why? My cats have a full drawer of sweaters that used to be mine (because he shrinks them all). One time he turned an entire batch of clothes pink and we couldn’t afford to buy new. My oldest daughter HATES the color pink, probably because my blood would boil every time I dressed her in her matching pepto bismol colored outfits. EVERYTHING she owned was this fucking color. It wasn’t even a pretty color pink. It was a weird color pink. So now when I get sick and he tries to help with doing the laundry I have to tell myself that he is trying to be nice and that I shouldn’t make a voodoo doll of him. I try exceptionally hard not to hate him when he says “I did laundry!” I know this about myself and so now I ask myself “How important is it?” shrunken clothes is not that important. HE is! My husband and our relationship is way more important than my favorite sweater. It took me a lot of therapy and self reflection to be able to say those words and mean it. Honestly isn’t he sweet for helping me? I think it is really very kind. And now my cats have a full drawer of sweaters and they get to hate him now. How do I tell that story without everyone knowing that my husband is no Mr. Mom?
That’s my point! It isn’t about him. It is about me. It is how I deal with it. I really do try to let it go. I try to be forgiving of him. The same as when I accidentally wash his clothes without checking the pockets first. How many times do I have to find shreds of paper in the dryer before I think “I need to check pockets!”? I bring him the tiny bits of paper and say “I hope this wasn’t important!” In that instance I forgive myself because I am being honest and upfront about it. He forgives me too because he usually says “Nope, it’s fine!”
Moral of my story: I find it difficult to tell my story without trying to tell everyone else’s. I hope that all of you realize that this is my truth on this blog and I do not speak for anyone else. Also we are not perfect and we can humble ourselves a bit to realize that no one else is going to be perfect either. Take the time to get to know yourself and who you want to be. None of us wants to be the person that backs into our husband’s truck taking out both cars in one hasty swoop, But we totally fucking are! (I mean I did that but I am sure you all have an equivalent story, right?) We are going to make mistakes we can either repeat them or we can learn from them. My husband has decided to repeat the laundry one and I have learned to let it go because his voodoo doll can not take much more abuse. Also we spend our all of our lives in a stage of forgiveness, either needing forgiveness or giving forgiveness or both. If we are going to forgive ourselves we have to be honest with ourselves. If we are going to forgive others we have to be honest with ourselves.
Until next time! 🙂