The Day I Lost It

The Day I Lost It

Kindness and grace. Hope and encouragement. Support and love. But not a single word of condemnation. For those of you who missed it, I had a complete meltdown last week.  Complete with a whiny temper tantrum and lots of moaning and groaning to boot.  I felt overwhelmed and tired and completely inadequate.  I felt isolated and alone…and so desperate. And so I reached out, hoping for a lifeline, but almost expecting the opposite.  Expecting someone to say something like “you have so much so quit whining” and “we all struggle” and “you think you have it bad, you should see…”  And if I’m being honest, if someone would’ve said those things, they would’ve been right.  I am lucky.  I have a wonderful blessed life and I have been given much.  We do all struggle.  I do need to look for the joy in my blessings.  And I do need to realize that there are many who struggle with much more difficult things than me. But no one said them. And when I was at my most raw, when the aforementioned truths felt distant to me, I shared my heart– flawed as it is.  And you all rallied around me in a way that was so uplifting, so beautiful, so kind that I get teary just thinking about it. I’ve seen so much talk lately about the so-called Mommy Wars… about playground politics and moms who are constantly trying to one-up each other.  I’ve seen posts ranting about our judgmental culture, about the fact that moms can’t even go to the grocery store without someone stopping them to tell them...
Failing at Life

Failing at Life

I’m totally and completely failing at life right now. And not just a little bit. Take today, for example.  I didn’t pay close attention to my two-year-old at the park and he took off his shoes and stepped in something prickly.  When we got home, I spent 45 minutes with tweezers picking splinters out of the poor guy’s toes.  This put me behind at work, so I frantically spent the afternoon trying to catch up while Will slept and Joey and Kate played Legos.  I had promised Kate 4:15 Zumba so I woke Will up at 3:30 only to have him take one step on his foot and find more splinters.  More tweezers.  More crying.  More frantic rushing.  I left at 3:55.  I forgot my wallet. I got to the gym and they let me in (without my card) but realized that I had to go straight from Zumba to basketball and get the kids dinner in-between.  I begged $20 off of my friend Rebecca (thanks!) and headed to Chick-Fil-A, where I told my kids to eat fast in the back seat.  They did.  I brought the kids to basketball and sat Will on my lap where he promptly… threw up.  All over me and himself and the gym floor and my kind friends who happened to be sitting next to me chatting. My friend Monica saved me by running for paper towels but I was still a total disaster. I sulked out to the car and wiped us both off the best I could and proceeded to sit in the dark car with a squirmy two-year-old who suddenly...
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