I just filed my fingernails. These days my beauty regimen is at the bottom of my to do list. Relatively non existent. This is due to the fact that I'm a somewhat stay-at-home-mom-who-teaches-preschool-three-days-a-week with three little boys 2, 4, & 6. Trying to find the time to beautify and do it without an audience and circus taking place in the bathroom is virtually impossible.
I looked down later that day and I'd forgotten to file one of them.
That's pretty much the picture reel of my life right now: brain mush.
Now, I'm no dummy. I cannot blame all my life's problems and stress and bad luck and tough seasons on my kids. Nor will I. But, I just have to tell the truth here: they are huge contributors of my brain mushiness. That, combined with a lost mojo plus the "epic three months of torture"--I mean summer--equals a RECIPE FOR INNER DESTRUCTION.
It's perfectly alright to be a little less than enthused about your particular position in the space time continuum. Label it what you want: depression, loss of mojo, the blues, losing your groove, etc. But, being that I believe in Jesus Christ and I have heartfelt knowledge of the past, present, and my future--I know I won't be here long. And, I know I'm not alone. I'm more than likely in this position for a reason.
I'm really not trying to be whiny. Although, I'm not doing a very good job of it. I'm going for more of a BRAIN DUMP OF MY BRAIN MUSH. Unless you unload the contents of your purse, you won't know why its getting so heavy and weighing you down.
I was going through old videos of my kids a few days ago. So little. How sweet they were. My mind went back to the time when it was just my husband and me. Pause. When there was just the one baby. Pause. When there were just two little ones. Pause. Now three. We both turned 40 this year and celebrated 9 years of marriage. In about ten years, that's a lot of change. Having children changes you.Having three makes you a little crazy.
We are tired. I'm tired. Truth be told, we live each day just to squeeze out the bare minimum: Did we feed them? Check. Are they relatively clean? Check. Are they alive? Check. Success! Its 8:00 pm, now we can throw the kids in bed and do it all over againtomorrow! Cue Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.
In the beginning of this parenting voyage I flirted with the idea of homeschooling and teaching my children all about art and painting and knitting and sculpting everyday (I'm a former art teacher) and reading the Bible everyday and doing all this Pinterest-y stuff and being so happy all the time and having all this energy and . . . well, I don't think I ever stopped to think about the kind of human being I would become after all that endless pouring into my children each minute, day in, day out, year after year . . . what kind of ME would I become? Would there be any of ME left?
Would there be any of ME left for my husband? (That is a whole OTHER blog post.)
Something legendary I've realized this summer: I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO REALLY LIVE WHILE MY KIDS ARE AWAKE.
I have completely put myself and the things that interest me and enrich me on pause for basically the last six years. I have always felt if they were up, I had to be at their beckoned call to get them a snack or a drink or change the channel or the DVD, or keep a baby from destroying their LEGO tower, change the millionth diaper, find the binky, wipe the snot and clean up after every disaster.I still to this day never watch adult TV when they are awake.( Ok. Just kidding, I never watch adult TV because I'm too freaking tired and just go to bed. Just ask my husband.)
I was an artist remember? I have a lot stuffed in this brain that's never made it to canvas because, KIDS. I have a lot on a to-do list somewhere that never got done because, KIDS.
Yes. I became THAT kind of mom. I didn't mean to, and it didn't happen over night.
Admitting you have a problem is the first step to recovery, right?
I feel God is watching me. Just observing from afar as I get a clue. It's time for this mama to wake up and start LIVING again. Can I get an AMEN?
I remember Psalm 139:
1 You have searched me, Lord,
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you, Lord, know it completely.
5 You hem me in behind and before,
and you lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
With that being said, I gave myself a pedicure.
And Piecre looked down at my toe-spacers and said, "Whats that?" and proceeded to stick his big ole finger into the paint on my big toe.