Monday, August 24, 2009


I am. In the sense of the source or cause of a problem. I’m too prideful to share the story. Let’s just say there are days when I look at myself and realize I suck. Not every day, but there are days…like when I can’t get through to my kid…or when things are out of my control even though I think they should be…or when I flip out and realize I’ve been had by every weakness and insecurity ever vested in me. Culprit. A.K.A. HUUUUGE slice of humble pie.

I consider myself a fairly logical girl. Girl implying the full range of emotional responses. I’ve got LOTS of sarcasm to cover all of the vulnerability…but occasionally it doesn’t conceal them…it whips off the cover like a tarp in the wind. Despite my logic, when it comes to my children or my love there are times when the strong logical approach will take a step down and allow the emotional method to give it a whirl…which ALWAYS ends with me feeling like the culprit (hence the title) and puffy eyes.

I have this really BAD habit of trying to rely on myself when it comes to things that really can’t be handled on my own. When I was on my mission I would so go through cycles where I would feel very sturdy and try to take things on. As I would weaken I would hand more and more over to the Lord, knowing full well that He was the only one who could really help me and show me how to deal. At times I would beg Him to take it all. And He did. Little by little as I grew stronger I would take things back until (brilliant) I was holding everything again, completely overwhelmed…and there He was…hands extended…allowing me to give back the things that I just couldn’t or didn’t know how to handle.

Wasn’t I supposed to grow out of that when I became an adult? Wasn’t I supposed to figure it all out and know how to handle love? And loss? And brattiness? And tantrums? And disappointment? And patience? Wasn’t I supposed to have this remarkable innate ability to keep my perspective and my cool because I was a grown up? I think my heart (figuratively speaking) is faulty. It’s altogether too impulsive (no pun intended). One thing that I DO know that works is my post-awareness. I need to move it to PRE-awareness. I need some extra pre-meta-cognition, if you please. To save me from putting my foot in my mouth or from letting my anger and frustration get the better of me…and then I need a REALLY GOOD eye cream.

Lovies and chums (and self), heed my advice. Beware of stupidity in sheep’s clothing. Beware of lame things that seem monumental and escalate at super sonic speed…unless, of course, you love humble pie…then we can eat it together. I guarantee I suck more than you. As long as you understand that and don’t try to dissuade me (which will annoy me and I’ll snap at you and then feel bad and then I’ll have to eat humble pie over you…please, spare me) we can sit at the same table happily and discuss the ins and outs of pie crust and filling.

All is well. I promise. I’m just unflatteringly human. And those days keep the experience real…painfully real. Someday I’ll get it. I’ll step back enough to see the process WHILE it’s happening AND keep my cool. I hope. I’m working on it. That’s the best I can do presently. At least I can kind of giggle about it…and hopefully make you do the same as you read and (not out rightly) admit that you may have felt similarly. All of this happens for a reason…which you may or may not know…which will mean a different thing on a different day…which will pull you and push you and make you laugh and cry…but the wisdom gleaned from said trials and living…make you amazing and miraculous…albeit weathered and scarred a bit. So the objective wasn’t to make it through this life without battle wounds and scars, nor will our success be about how much we can handle on our own…but to accumulate the lessons…to learn the fundamentals…and to learn how to rely and trust. It’s about keeping our perspective on the things that really matter, right?

It’ll be okay. I won’t write this stuff all the time. It’s sobering…well, sort of…take it with a grain of salt. My point in broadcasting is that we’re not alone.

Hand your stuff over. Lean a bit. It’s okay. Lean a LOT. It’s still oaky. Roll with it. Breathe. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Admit it when you’re less than your best. Get over it. Then be your best. Love the good and the bad. Just love. It’s not going to all go away when you grow up. As long as you’re someone’s child (in its many contexts) you still got growin’ to do.


Thursday, August 13, 2009

Casatoreasca....I just like the way it sounds

Married. Just a little over a month. To a beautiful man, a true friend. I've been asked how married life is going...It's going very well, thanks. We're together only during the weekends due to his working on an island 70ish miles off of the coast. We talk all the time, but sharing space is limited. There's a longing...and a gratitude for the time we DO have together. There's no time for anything but handling these minutes with precious care.

It's an interesting place to love from a distance. This is the first time that I can say I'm in a long distance relationship. Ha...and it's not like I could fly or boat out to see him...unless I had clearance.

There is something in being able to consider the things that you appreciate and adore in an individual when they're not present. There's a comfort in remembering the way his hand feels in mine...and all of the sensory recalls that come alive when he the way his shirt smells when I'm close to him...or the feel of his hair in my fingers...Or the serenity that is invoked with just a few words...yeah, married life is well. Very well, thank you.

Life in general is very good. Busy and perhaps a tad insane, but good. I frequently intermingle the word insane with the thought of stretching. Work with me. You know? Those weeks when there's just NO END to the many things that have to happen...and you're responsible for the coordination and the execution of every plan...stretching. Stretch yourself. Stretch your patience. Stretch your limits...not always for good, not always for bad...but out of duty. It's nuts to consider all of the stuff...but we totally do it and then later think nothing of it. Eh, I'm fine. There's a lot to do...there's ALWAYS a lot to do, so it makes the stretch a little less gargantuan. What's a centimeter more, right? :)

Kids are doing well. Often the root of my stretch (I don't know what I would do without my Mom who cares for them during the day.), they are also the root of my duty. They grow at a speed that is much to my chagrin. Somebody, PLEASE invent something that will freeze time (and rid me forever of my split ends...get rid of my flat iron? what? oh right...that would do the trick) and make them NOT grow so quickly. Keep them small where they won't ever tire of cuddles and tickles. The other day Justus was right in step with my humor and sarcasm. He was witty and funny...I enjoyed it, but was snapped back to the many days when he would look at me blankly and change the subject to thomas the tank engine or the wiggles. Now he's super stoked on books he's found in my collection...and is manifesting these pearls of personality that are both breathtaking and overwhelming.

It happens in a blink, no? And I know you understand because it happens to you, too. In our own ways.

Strive. Stretch. Catch the moments. Enjoy.
Love to you all,