Posted: November 29, 2008 at 3:00 pm
I’m stretched too thin. I’m over-committed. And I’m exhausted. Emotionally I am overwhelmed and need to find an outlet for properly dealing with those emotions. And, no, they’re not even all bad emotions! In fact, those joyous ones are so big and equally overwhelming that I just don’t have room for every emotion I’m feeling right now.
My life is so full. I have an upcoming concert. I’m singing a solo on Christmas Eve at church again. I’m working every Sunday and Wednesday in our church nursery. I’m writing and writing and writing. I’m giving away lots of stuff. I’m shopping. I’m wrapping (and I hate wrapping). I’m getting presents out on time. I’m planning for my youngest’s party tomorrow. I’ll be taking both boys with me to pick up a HUGE cake. By myself. I’m doing all of this. And more. I’m going going going. I can’t stop.
And then there are the emotions.
My boys are so amazing. But growing too quickly. And the Munchkin is equally amazing. And my anniversary is coming up. And her birthday. And Christmas. And there are issues within my nuclear family (my parents) and extended family (others) that are too big for me to even comprehend. And there’s the loss of my grandfather weighing on me as we near the holidays. And other losses. And friends dealing with loss. And I don’t have time to stop and say how I feel for sure because it changes so quickly.
How are we a day and a half away from December? Where has this year gone? What will next year bring? Will I have time to slow down a little bit? Will I get a little time for myself? Will life always be this fast-paced? Do I need to move to a quiet island? Or would I be like this even then? Is this just me? Or is this version of me a product of a fast-paced life dictated by society?
I don’t know. But I took my first nap in months and months yesterday. And, gosh, it felt good to slow down and rest for an hour. Maybe I just need more naps.
Posted: November 27, 2008 at 7:00 am
Do you know anyone who says, “I’m thankful, but…”
Well, if you’re reading this, you do. I’m good at that, I really, really am. I’m thankful for this house but I wish it was bigger. I’m thankful for my oldest son but I wish his ears worked better. I’m thankful for my youngest son but I wish he wasn’t teething and, as such, biting. I’m thankful for my Husband but if he gets called out on one more holiday to fight a fire, I’m going to scream!
The buts. They’re always around, aren’t they?
I don’t want to feel like that this Thanksgiving. Especially not in relation to my children; any of them, all of them. It’s been a hard year in some respects. I want to be truly thankful, if not everyday, at least today. I can go back to but-ing tomorrow. Today?
I am thankful for my daughter and her spirit. I am thankful for her hair, for her eyes. I am thankful for her intelligence. I am thankful for her Mom and her amazing ability as a parent. I am thankful for her grandparents in so many ways. I am thankful for my own boys and their laughter, their joy. I am thankful for my Husband for not only supporting us but loving us, unconditionally. I am thankful for all of my internet friends who have taught me so much over the past few years; about adoption, about parenting and about learning to love myself.
Today I am thankful. Without the buts.
Posted: November 24, 2008 at 7:38 pm
Today my youngest is turning one. As he is down for a nap, I am feeling very reflective, nostalgic and generally overwhelmed with emotion. I don’t know exactly how to word any of what I am feeling, mainly because one emotion contradicts another which contradicts another. I am living in some strange suspension of emotion where nothing is connected to everything is connected back to nothing again. Over and over.
The constant cycling of emotions and memories and feelings and general nostalgia is somewhat draining. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Is it ever right to think of someone else on your child’s birthday? If so, how much is too much? If it’s never okay, am I being selfish by singing in my concert on the Munchkin’s upcoming birthday and, as such, thinking of myself and/or the music? Should I be fully concentrated on each child on each of their birthdays, thinking of them and not the other?
Is it even motherly possible to emotionally remove one from the other?
I mean, sure, they’re all unique children. The Munchkin is the amazing, intelligent girl with hair, complexion and personality to die for. My oldest boy is a stubborn, smart, whirlwind of love and movement who will hug you and wow you all in the same breath. My youngest boy is a quieter, faster version of the other two with a glint in his eye that charms and worries me. Each of them would be their own unique selves without the presence of the other but, I wonder, how much has the existence of the other, in our home or not, attributed to how they have become who they are?
Maybe less so with the Munchkin as she hasn’t had the constant presence of the other two and has yet to meet her youngest brother. But how has her existence and my knowledge and processing of that existence affected how I have parented both of my sons? How has talking about her changed their perceptions (moreso my older boy at this point) of what family is and is not? How has my grief and, flipped, my joy, changed how I have interacted with all of them, separately and together?
If we remove any one of them from the equation, would another be the same?
I don’t know the answers. I do know, maybe moreso today and this season than at any other time of the year, that I am a blessed mother. My children, one currently playing, one currently napping and one currently doing something I don’t know about, are all healthy and happy. My children are all being loved, unconditionally, for who they are. My children are all being encouraged to be the best that they can and to find true happiness.
And, in the end, isn’t that what we should all want for our children?
In short, though I’m feeling emotional and confused about what I should be feeling, I am keenly aware of the blessing I have in my life at this point in time. I am so thankful for each of these children even if thinking about the other two takes some spotlight off of the youngest on his birthday. I’ll make up for it in hugs (and cake!) later.
Su
