flying my own little freak flag

The kids have me on a bit of a roller coaster lately. To be honest, I have myself on a bit of a roller coaster.

Kids:

Jude is hilarious, for instance, yesterday he took of his pj's put on the girl's butterfly wings, and stated,

I Daddy Di-doo-bew (Tinkerbell).

He also has been telling me that he's a man, and playing practical jokes on me. He's a total blast, but he is also defying me, and being very testy. Trying to find the best way to address this is so challenging!

The girls each have their own brand of both wonderful and horrible. Rowan is the sweetest little affectionate girl, but is a bit scatter-brained, and sometimes I fear that she is pretending to not hear me, and is wantonly ignoring me. Very frustrating. Genevieve is so dear and quirky in her particular tastes, but is trying to run the show and control everything. I am trying to be patient with these two, but they want to test me at every turn. Good thing they are so sweet and funny to balance things out!

Me:

I am seeing lately that some of my little peculiarities are maybe more than quirks. Maybe I have a bit of social anxiety. Sometimes being in a crowd of people can make me so uncomfortable I think I might crawl out of my skin. Not all the time, but in particular groups. Specifically a lot of other young married couples, with or without kids. Not in small groups, just large ones. Weird. And on several occasions through the years, I have had people tell me that they thought I did not like them. I actually attribute that to the fact that I can be very uncomfortable in groups of people that number, oh, maybe 8 or more... nutball, I know! But I often have a very strong feeling that people don't like me, which is funny, since I apparently am giving off that vibe, too.

Oh, people, I am sorry if I ever gave you that impression! And I am sorry that I am so unbelievably sensitive and read into the slightest little thing... Sigh. I feel so isolated so easily, and then swing the other way on a high, if I get to see a couple of friends over the course of a week. I am truly uncertain of what my next steps should be in attempting to normalize. I really can't just bury myself in housework, although my more than usually clean house has me feeling quite proud of myself!

So anyway, I'm gonna pray, and I'm gonna try to extend the grace to my children that Christ so graciously extends to me on a daily basis. I'm gonna keep making things, because my silly phobias even extend to etsy, and I get nervous to put my little crafty bits up for scrutiny. And I'm gonna keep writing here, because it helps, even if I feel a little vulnerable and silly.

Work it out. with fear and trembling

I feel like I should not post. I feel like I ought to post something happy. Wait for something glorious to happen. Post about something good that happened last week. Sometimes that helps. Sometimes posting about the good things, even when I am not feeling good, makes me feel better, gives me a fresh peek at the delights of being a mother and a housewife.

But today I just feel like a hypocrite. I have prayed a number of times today. It has helped. It has lifted me out of blackness. For that I am thankful. But it keeps coming back. It's nearly 11pm. The girls are still awake, running around, taking off their clothes. Pulling out toys, getting into each other's beds. Ignoring the admonitions of their mother. This age is really tough, and I don't always like who I am when my patience is tried. That is stating things mildly. I have had awful thoughts today. Despairing, angry, and ugly. My actions have not been far off, either.

I would like to enjoy housework. I want to take pleasure in the process of setting this house to rights. At times I do feel that way. Most of the time, though, it is just drudgery. I think that in time, God can change my heart, but as of right now.... sigh. It is hard for me to commit to a task when I know that I will be constantly interrupted, pulled in various directions. It makes me cranky with my kids. So, many times I don't even start. Dan doesn't really enjoy coming home to a disaster area. He is kind, he is understanding, he does not pressure me. But still. I know that when he comes home to cleanliness and order, there is a relief and a peace that comes over his face. It's not lost on me. I used to hate cooking, but I am coming around and I enjoy having a good meal cooked and on the table when Dan arrives home. So there is hope for more progress, right? Please say that there is.

So, I feel powerless, but that is just pride, a need to be in control of my surroundings. I can give that up, hand it over. I read all these little photo captions, blogs, facebook status updates, about happy moms who (apparently) are in perfect harmony with the place in life in which they have found themselves. I feel envious, and I can give that up as well. Ok. I feel frustrated that I am not contributing any money toward running this household. I know that I am where I need to be, that my kids need me, and that my husband does not resent me. But I am used to working full time, bringing home a paycheck, and even after 2 1/2 years, I still feel funny about it. Deep breath, and let it go.

We are staring a small group in our home. We have had one meeting. It was last Friday. This is a really good thing, and we are so excited to finally be a part of something like this again. It gives me hope for quite a few things: 1) Practical application of God's word in my life. I can't wait to see some fruit, I know that I will. 2)Relationship building - with the other members of the group, but also with my immediate family members. 3)Keeping the house clean - nothing like visitors to motivate me!

In short, I have had (so far) a really tough week emotionally, and the spiritual foundation that I thought I had placed myself on, seems to have dissolved. Now of course, this makes all the sense in the world. I am more sure than ever that this new venture is the right one for us, that we have much growth to attain, and many new lessons to learn... that the peace that transcends all understanding will guard my heart and my mind. Because as dark as I may feel, as lost as I may think that I am (and I really am, I guess), there is One who has my back, so to speak. And His grace will be sufficient. I mean, who am I kidding - what other real option is there?