candid. (life stories episode 1)

It's been a rough afternoon. I am tired. When I get tired, my brain doesn't work well; I can't handle the constant pressing from the children without getting overly irritated. I begin to think what a horrible mother I am. I start thinking about all the things that I'm doing wrong and how badly I wish I were able to do better, and wonder how much of me is truly capable, and how much therapy my kids will need when they're older... and will they like me and will I give them room to be mad at me, and will they have me over for dinner or avoid me like the plague? I just don't know on days like this. So I've just had a shot of rum because I can. And now I shall write and be candid with the world, because Jason is not home, all three children are in bed and the world wide web is a captive audience. The kitchen is clean except for the bowl full of cream cheese icing I have yet to decide what to do with (which may involve frosting the pan of brownies I MIGHT make in a little while that I got buy 1 get 1 free at Publix today). The floor is swept. The toys are put away. I braved the threat of encountering the giant wolf spider I failed to kill yesterday in the garage in order to start a load of laundry. I'm off the hook... for now.

What good is this place if I don't take a moment to be real? Anyone who knows me knows that I am not one to hide much about who I am, where I've come from, and my experiences, much to my mother's chagrin. The struggle is to not let those experiences in themselves hold my identity... this is the daily struggle. I am almost 32 years old. When you exit your twenties, life takes a turn. I don't know what happens, but you realize that life doesn't go on forever... we have a responsibility to make our mark and mean something while we're here, and that time is of the essence. We are not immortal. In fact, my life could very well be half over. What a crappy thought. Especially when I think about how I spent, oh, about ten years of this life. I have lots of great stories to tell and a testimony, but the thing that remains is the pain. It never truly goes away. It is a force to be reckoned with until I pass through.

Which leads me to my next rambling thought... I was thinking of Heidi Baker tonight while I was washing dishes... I thought about something that made me think about death - and I imagined her saying that it was not a big deal to suffer, because Jesus suffered, and to go through everything he went through on this earth is something that we ought to expect to endure, and that she wouldn't consider herself a victim because he was not a victim. He was led like a Lamb. That is would be a privilege to partake in all he experienced when he was here, incarnate. I've said in conversations with deep friends that I feel that sometimes the Lord doesn't totally take away our pain, because it not only keeps us close to him, it also gives us a reference point. Now I am not saying that he doesn't totally take away the sting of some things, because he does and he has somewhat with me over time, but my own experience has been that I find myself often looking back and experiencing pain for various reasons related to the way that I lived my life from about 1996 to 2005... in a nutshell if I could have a do-over, those would be the years the locusts had eaten, that I long to be restored. Maybe the Lord is truly restoring them before my eyes, but I can't see it. I know he has redeemed my life so much, but the tendrils still extending backwards are hard to face at times.

So on nights like tonight when I feel kind of like a failure as a mother... when I am going on day five with Jason working till 9 or 10 at night and doing this mom thing all by myself, I feel so completely awful and all I can do is examine all my faults and shortcomings... These are my confessions and the weights on my heart tonight:

1. I struggle so much with my son (he has or is Aspergers - in the autism spectrum)... I wish I was more patient, loving, and accepting of him... and realistic as to what he is capable of vs what he is not capable of... He wants everything to be so certain, so sure, and I can't give that to him. 
2. I am SO bad at doing laundry. There are about four loads in baskets downstairs that need folding. For the second time in a week. Maybe I fold laundry three or four times a month? Ugh. 
3. My kids watch too much TV. WAY too much. :(
4. I am so compulsive towards getting housework and chores done but I lack the compulsion to sit and play with my kids. 
5. Poor innocent baby Noah has to hear me fussing all the time at the others. 
6. I wish I were more. In so many ways.
7. I spend more time regretting cutting my hair than thinking about sorting through the piles of mail and bills that I am in denial about that need to be looked at and filed away. 
8. I wish I laughed more easily.
9. I wish I could accept each day for what it is, instead of wishing for something better... because one day I will be longing for these days again... 

So there is the dark and candid moment I felt compelled to share. There. I said it. I guess I feel better now... ahhhh, er... yeah. I am tired. Haven't I said that already? My husband is home, and he brought me sushi and wine. So maybe it's time to stop wallowing. 

Tomorrow is our anniversary, and we get to spend a whole day ALOOOOONE without ANY of the children...what the heck is that like? I have no idea. All of this moment will seem such a blur once tomorrow afternoon comes and we've spent hours blissfully together, enjoying each other, without the strains of parenthood about us. 

I don't know how to close this except to say goodnight. Thank you for reading my crazy ramblings and candid remarks. Bed is calling. I shall be new in the morning.

<3 sleep tight, friends.