I struggle with idealism and romanticism. It's straight from my personality profile. I want to work hard at family life and have things roll along smoothly. I want to organize and clean and be able to find things without a mad rush out the door. But, I live with six people of different personalities than mine, and we all want different things. So sometimes I just need to shed a few tears for the way I wish life were and then move on to seeing what can be done about it. We've had the talks. The charts of responsibilities are posted, and I am tired of managing more than mothering. Really tired at a soul level. I'm going for humor now to see if that gets through.
There are more gallons of milk in the outside fridge just waiting for someone to replenish this almost empty carton with two sips left in the jug. Laziness overcomes my family every time and it leaves me slack-jawed. Empty boxes gaping with their lids wide open in the pantry. How am I raising people who think that someone else should always handle it? Same goes for the dishes scattered in the sink when the dishwasher is right there waiting to receive them. Or the clothes that were folded but are now pushed to the floor and thought to be dirty again. Or the shoes that never make it to the shoebox that we built for that purpose. Or the recycling that is pitched on the trash. Or the food I made dumped in the trash with no thought to the cost or labor involved. Or the dog everyone wanted but only I remember to feed. Tears of frustration and annoyance.
I feel like a failure.
There is no transfer of the lessons I am trying to teach over and over again. Or, if there is, I cannot yet see them.
Next verse, same as the first.
The aftermath of Halloween binging covering every surface of unnamed child's room, closet, floor, and under the bed. I find the Kind bar wrapper and Coke Zero can a little ironic. This refuse is maddening as the "no food in your rooms" policy has been disregarded once again. I am thinking of buying this child an enormous trash bin for her birthday (and nothing else).
Other things I know (cognitively) are sheer textbook teen issues- such as my son's utmost embarrassment at everything I say and do. My feelings still get hurt when he asks me to drop him off at the bus before the field trip and not speak to anyone. I wish I didn't care, but I do. I am asking God for thicker skin. I need to be more like a cactus and less like an orchid. I hear that most likely we will get along well when he is twenty-five.
Somethings I know are just hard parts of the parenting job. Such as sticking to our guns (now on week three) of revoking phone privileges for a daughter who repeatedly chooses not to turn in assignments. Until she comes to terms with the black-hole sucking power of a zero and pulls her grades up, we will endure the mopey "I'm rotting" attitude that goes with banishment from social media and a rest stop on the electronic highway. Sleepover with your best friend? No. The answer to anything you want is "no" kiddo until you get this together. Mama ain't playin'!
Fitness battles when bright academic kids sit at a computer or play instruments most of the hours of their days. The cute (matching mine) fitness planner from Michaels mostly empty of food log entires. The treadmill still. The dog unwalked. Sigh. I can model. I can support. I can enforce. But the battle will be ultimately up to them. I hope they choose well.
When I start falling into the "not enough" parenting hole, all areas of my life start to be viewed through this filter. My friends spend enormous amounts of time on their wardrobes and pouring over blogs to have heir nests feathered in the latest Pinterest/HGTV fashion. I don't have time or energy to keep up or invest in such things. I love creativity. I love beauty, but I don't have enough margin for those pursuits right now. I don't want to feel frumpy, but I don't want to spend money on fashion that changes every season either. I get cheap thrills from consignment bargains. My beautiful home starts to look dusty and cluttered compared to the newly painted (and empty) home that my friend just bought. I know that I need to weed out our closets and deep clean the molding, but when would I do that? I'm even feeling edgy about Christmas which is still six weeks away!
Pfft!!! Pffft!
Extinguishing fiery arrows.
"Take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the devil."
Ephesians 6:16
I take a deep breath and start to pray. Praying not so much in words as just coming and sitting before the Lord (while driving in silence on the way to pick someone up from some activity). Clearer thoughts begin to formulate:
I know that You love me and the life You have given me is a good one, even a privileged and charmed one as compared to so many who truly have struggles much greater than mine. I have years of lists of things I am thankful for and may need to pull them back out and review on the days when I just need to vent and reset. I let the tears trickle down my face and allow my messy child to hand me a paper-towel to wipe them away. I receive the goofiness of my husband as his version of "I'm (sort of) sorry I was a jerk" apology. I exchange my overly-sensitive hurt feelings for a truth walk: we are all works in progress and God will fix this is heaven. The days of perfection are coming. They are just not here yet.
"I used to dream about escaping my ordinary life, but my life was never ordinary. I had simply failed to notice how extraordinary it was."
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Asking God this month for eyes to see and ears to hear His goodness.
