Friday, April 21, 2017

Just write

Right now, my house is empty except for me. BG just got on the bus for kindergarten, and little sister went out shopping with her dad. There are a million things I haven't done (just you wait), but I am instead sitting here and typing. 

Because it matters.

I want to eat healthy, I want to exercise every day, I want to finish reading a book, I want to start   acutally follow through on a meditation practice, I want to have a clean house, I want to play with my kids more.  But when push comes to shove, whenever I get quiet and actually listen to the sweetheart voice deep in my head (the one I like to claim doesn't exist the rest of the time), it says simply, Write.

There are other voices that are louder. There's the voice that tells me I don't have anything to say that matters, there's the voice that tells me I am letting down my family and friends and being selfish when I focus on something so "silly," there's the voice that tells me everyone will laugh at me and no one will like me anymore if I put myself out there. Those voices yell in my ears and in my head, and instead of writing - or actually doing any of the other perfectly important things I said above that I want to do - I end up scrolling facebook. I eat. I shop. I mindlessly click on things or watch TV shows I don't even really like. I'm so busy NOT writing that I don't do anything else.

On days when I write something, everything else goes better. I know this. I've known this for a long time. But fear keeps me quiet, guilt keeps me busy, shame keeps me small. Those voices, those feelings, they're real and they're mine and I don't want to judge or be ashamed of them. 

But that quiet voice, the one that tells me to just write, that's me. That's who I am at my core. That's who I want to nurture. 

And so I am. Little by little. I will forget. I will slip backwards. But that's okay. I'll still be here.

Friday, April 7, 2017

All the hot mess mamas say heeey

Right now, my children are running in circles around my house, yelling through megaphones I (for some reason that surpasses my understanding) helped them make out of old cereal boxes and washi tape. My oldest is supposed to put a mystery item in a plastic egg and bring it in to school on Monday and since she has summarily rejected all my suggestions, she's now carrying it around with her and picking things up. There are paper shreds on the floor of every room because I didn't tell my youngest soon enough that she could only use scissors at the table. My oven is preheating for the frozen chicken nuggets I plan to feed my children for dinner.

You guys. I'm tired. All the way to my soul I'm tired.

I feel like I should somehow be parenting differently, that things would be less crazy and chaotic if I had my kids better trained, better disciplined, on a more structured routine. I know that my house would be less of a mess if I occasionally cleaned it. I know there are things I could do differently.

But, y'know, my kids think I'm a good mom. They like the way things are. And inasmuch as I would rather live in a state of less chaos, I want to find ways to do some of this differently.  But it doesn't mean I'm a bad mom. And now my kids are yelling "I love you and want to be with you allllll daaaaay" to each other so maybe I really don't my life to be different at all.

Except maybe without the paper on the floor.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

In which I quietly show up again

Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing life wrong.

It's been a busy year. BG started half day kindergarten. Little Sister started preschool. I became a Girl Scout leader.

I feel like I just run in circles, putting out fires, rearranging deck chairs.

I remember a time when my life felt like I was moving forward, like I was accomplishing something, like I was driving the bus and not just struggling to not fall down because there weren't enough seats.

Maybe I don't remember. I don't remember much these days.

When I'm scared, when I'm overwhelmed, I tend to be funny. Snark is my shield. If we're not laughing we're crying, amirite?

And I am. I am right. Laughing at ourselves is a crucial life skill. But it isn't the only life skill.

I want to get back to a place where I can go deep. Where I'm afraid but I do things anyway. I want to put my gifts out in the world because they matter and because I matter. I want to do more than just stare at the wall and try to make it to bed time.

Hi. I missed you.