Still not mother of the year

The past few weeks, my life has been a little busier than normal. I’ve felt–quite frequently–like I had a lot of balls in the air, and that one of them was bound to drop sooner or later. I have been talking to myself. A lot. I fit in pretty well at the nursing home. It’s like when I am trying to remember a phone number, I’ll say it over and over again in my mind since I can never find a paper to write it down.

Now, however, I’m saying all these things in my head because I wrote them down somewhere, but I can’t find the damn paper so my inner dialogue is like, “Pick up Peyton at 5 or 7, wait what day is it: Monday, okay 5, I think. Lily has gymnastics. Drop off the recycling. Pick up my mom’s laundry. Bring her insurance card. Did I bring her clean undershirts and the kind of socks she likes? Did I text Chloe good morning? Did I check on Lori? Did I pack lunches this morning or were the kids buying? Did we study spelling words or did Lily really write “whore” instead of “were” anyway?” True story. Good that her teacher is a precious angel who finds humor in my parenting shortcomings.

All of this has made me feel much more compassionate toward those around me as I think most of us probably have way more going on than anyone knows. Since, I’m always trying to work those four agreements and lots of times getting stuck on not taking things personally, this is helping.

I have a really bad habit of sinking into myself. Crawling into my shell and dropping out of every inessential (by inessential, I mean no one will die if I don’t show up) part of my life. That means, I don’t really talk to my friends. I don’t go anywhere with anyone. Often I’m short if I remember to respond at all. All of this is an effort to protect and nourish my spirit, but it can often seem to people who care about me, that I’m mad at them or being a bitch. I’m really so sorry.

I’m working on doing a better job of communicating. And at the same time, I’m going to make some vows to you, my girlfriends, who are doing so much more than anyone knows, often at the expense of taking care of yourself the way you need and deserve to be loved and cared for. If you would, though, please pass it on…

1. If you forget to pick your son up from any sporting event, I will take him home. I will not tell anyone that you forgot or give you any shit about it. We don’t ever have to speak of it.
2. Those pants look good on you. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow too if that is what you choose. I don’t care how often you do laundry or if you gained 10 pounds and they’re the only comfortable thing you have. I promise I didn’t even notice until you told me.
3. Your daughter is beautiful even if her clothes don’t match and are too small. I know that she has a whole wardrobe of matching adorable clothes but it isn’t worth fighting with her in the morning.
4. I don’t judge you for yelling at your kids. Good lord, if someone had a hidden camera in my car or house, child protective services would be at my door daily. I am at times a horrible raving lunatic.
5. I couldn’t care less if your kids valentines aren’t homemade. I force my child to do crafts so we can bond, dammit; she would much rather have store bought ones. We’re all works in progress.

I could go on and on and on. Sometimes we are just so mean to each other. Judging and comparing and competing and gossiping and bleck, bleck, bleck. I promise you all, right now, if you’re reading this: I am never going to judge you, your clothes, your kids, your parenting, your weight, your hair or anything else. I get it. I understand. I feel you. My mantle is still void of a mother of the year trophy. Actually, I don’t even have a mantle! What do you think about that?

Please, let’s be kind to each other. And more than that? Let’s be kind to ourselves.

xoxo

21 Days: Day 19

Do any of you have that friend who repeats herself…maybe after she’s had a few too many cocktails? And you’re all, “yeah yeah yeah,” but you love her so you listen anyway? I’m that person lately. I appreciate those of you who are still here saying, “yeah yeah yeah” and loving me anyway.

Also, this has been so deep into my every day life that my friends are asking, “Was that me you were talking about when you said ______?” Even Brad Bell said, “Was it me that advised saying bff was petty and immature?” It was. He was trying to wrap his head around some girl drama. I’m grateful for self-aware people.

1. I slept like a rock. I snoozed the 5:30 alarm. No one else gets up til close to 7 so I had plenty of time to clean up dog poop and be grateful for, among other things, a house that smells fantastic–despite the dog poop–thanks to some new PartyLite aroma melts.

2. A few years ago, Brad started having half-day Fridays. Since I worked from home at the time, and the kids were in school, we turned those half-days into dates. Sometimes we went to lunch or watched a movie. Sometimes we took a nap. It didn’t really matter; it was a few hours of uninterrupted time together, which is super duper rare.

With holiday and work and travel and snow days, we haven’t had a Friday date in close to forever. But today, we got one. It consisted of tool shopping and lunch, which was fantabulous. My usual–and only–date request is food or coffee or both. I’ve told you how gleefully I react to the mere suggestion of coffee, so you can imagine when you combine it with food, one of my other favorite things.

What makes me happier than food and even coffee is that after all these years, my man and I still have fun hanging out no matter what we are doing. We laugh at our own jokes. We have entire conversations that consist of nothing but Anchorman quotes. We talk about other things in addition to our kids. And that’s good. Because these kids have a bad habit of growing up, and sooner rather than later, we are going to be spending a lot of time alone together. Thank goodness, he is my favorite.

3. I got a thank you from someone I wrote a thank you to in the mail. Love. Love. Love.

Yesterday two of my loyal fasting friends told me they cheated. I ate pizza in commiseration. Hey, I’m not trying to get in the Daniel Fast hall of fame. I’ve learned way more through the gratitude portion than I did by restricting food. Because guess what being hungry makes me? A. N. G. R. Y.

I’m only clarifying because I’ve gotten a few eye rolls from some Judgey McJudgersons re: my “modifications” of the fast. Well, the fast, kinda like life, is between you and God. So, when we are keeping tabs on what and how someone else is doing, then we’re kinda missing the point. You know, the whole plank in the eye thing.

Guess what else? It’s the freaking weekend, baby. Any fun plans?

If you have about 10 minutes and aren’t offended by the “f” word, read this article; it’s f#$%ing brilliant.

Two. More. Days.

xoxo

One Heart at a Time

Here’s my unfortunate experience with church people: They are fake, judgmental hypocrites. The people who were most revered in my growing up church beat their kids, cheated on their wives, gossiped, judged, hated, and looked down on people. Ain’t nobody got time for those folks and their God.

At The Movement, I encountered different people. Loving, accepting Christians who had kind non-judgmental hearts. However, even some I thought of as my kind of Christians show me their humanness if I mention hot button topics such as: Brad and I drink alcohol, my brother committed suicide or my sister-in-law is a lesbian. They don’t judge me to my face. Honestly, if I weren’t observant of body language I might miss their judgment. See, it is so subtle: an averted glance, an uncomfortable shifting in their seat, a quick, “Excuse me,” as they hurry away from me.

Honestly, there is a part of me that kind of enjoys making people uncomfortable. Not because I’m sadistic, but because I much prefer those who are just right out in the open with their hate to those who pretend to be loving and accepting. So, when I tell you my feelings about homosexuality and suicide, I’m probably trying to gauge if we have any chance of being friends, and I’ll know very quickly based on your reaction.

I am an open book. If I’m mad at you, I will tell you. If I think I offended you, I will apologize. If you say something that I don’t agree with, I will listen to your point of view, but I probably won’t change my mind. If you say something outwardly hurtful to me, I will be hurt, but I would rather be attacked to my face than gossiped about behind my back.

I try every day to be kinder, to be more patient, not to say unkind things about anyone, but I’m a work in progress, and I mess up.

This weekend, people showed up in a church in a bar not knowing what to expect. People who might have felt judged or looked down upon in church because of their clothes, past, or sexual orientation. But I think they felt loved and accepted. I saw them smiling and sharing their stories with others that they may never have met if not for a church in a bar in downtown Warren.

Some people mock God, church, and me, but that is okay, they’re works in progress too. They might have been raised to believe that God is vengeful and punitive, and Christians are phony. We’re all works in progress. But, I’m super grateful to a crazy redheaded pastor who trusted God enough to trade good for a chance at great. I’m grateful to my pastor/brother-in-law, who is the first Christian I ever met who loved and didn’t judge. I’m grateful for my sister-in-law, who in her quiet unassuming way is gonna change the freaking world.

I’m outrageously blessed that I get to love and be loved by my beautiful family every moment. But today, I am overwhelmed by the opportunity to bring love to a community one heart at a time.

P.S. I don’t really know how to spell judgement or judgmental, so I have relied solely on spell check and apologize for what I’m sure is a lot of inconsistency. Also, I promise this isn’t a passive aggressive dig at any person. If you feel called out, it might be because God is telling you to check yourself.Follow my blog with Bloglovin