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How long have you lived without the freedom to let go?
Don’t Miss the Moment
There’s a moment that we women often miss. It’s the moment right after the conversation, the conversation about the leak in the roof, the leak in the pipe, the budget miscalculation, the unexpected babysitting offer, the broken door knob, the sick dog. There are three things we need to do in that moment, and almost always miss them. continue reading…
Lie #2: He needs me to tell him what to do.
There’s a truth we know about people from experience: they are stupid. They mess up. They let us down. They don’t get it. They lie, they disappoint, they break hearts, they say hurtful things, they put themselves first. We see ourselves as the victims (and sometimes we are). They’re stupid, and we have to deal with the consequences. They mess up, and we pick up the mess. They disappoint, and we get blindsided. They break our hearts. continue reading…
Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
I’ll Get You, My Pretty!
What’s so hard about taking what you get and liking it? Everything. Nobody is perfect, we know that; problem is, we like perfect, crave it, want it, wish it were reality. We’ve hit the conclusion that we’re not reaching perfection ourselves, so we might as well start working on somebody else. Somebody else like our husbands. Maybe we’ll have more success with them.
Yeah, right. continue reading…
it’s dark outside, but all ten of us are indoors, getting dinner ready, dodging children at play, checking email, drinking coffee, talking, laughing, being quiet, being together.
I sit down to nurse my youngest; next to me, my sister is burping baby Carson, the newest member at only 7 weeks old. The other four kids are scattered around the house. Baby Einstein is on but nobody’s watching. The kitchen smells good, like gooey butter cookies and sausage balls.
Family gatherings were her forte. She lived for these moments, loved them, loved us all being home, loved the slightly controlled chaos that followed, loved her grandchildren.
She knew my sister’s two oldest and my firstborn; I was pregnant with my second when Mom died in the summer of 2007. Before the cancer made her too sick to leave the house, she bought a blue baby blanket, confident that I was having a boy.
I took a walk this morning, and was so proud for making myself get up and go around the block. In that glow of self-satisfaction (how little it takes for me to get there…), I stepped around the corner and saw our house, our yard, our patio, our garage, our overgrown garden area, our junk, our toys, our mess. The glow turned gray. I walked around and around, I tried to make a plan for making it all disappear.
I don’t like the clutter. I don’t like the junk. I don’t like the mess and the weeds and the lack and I don’t want to be represented by it.
But you know what?