Pages

pretty woman was right

i was watching pretty woman the other day and i caught a line that i had never noticed before. 
edward (richard gere's character) is speaking to vivian (julia robert's character)

edward: you could be so much more.
vivian: people put you down enough you start to believe it.
edward: well, i think you are a very bright, very special woman.
vivian: the bad stuff is easier to believe, you ever notice that? 

yes vivian. i have noticed that. especially if i'm telling it to myself. 

i've had a really hard series of days. which is ironic because i just shared my story for the first time on thursday to a group of women and felt so encouraged by it. then yesterday hit and that feeling was gone with the wind. that's the problem with feelings and emotions. they are in-the-moment based. my moments have been hard. 


my kids ages and stages are starting to get to me. i am the enemy, the squasher of fun, the adversary rather than the ally. or at least that's what i tell myself in my head. things are messy at home. the laundry grows, the floors are cluttered and wear the signs of little people all over them, and the beds go unmade. i feel like i can barely keep up. if i retreat and go to my parents house for help, then i return home to all the undone responsibilities of the day. if i stay home i battle overwhelming defeat. 


why do i battle defeat? because just as vivian said it's easier to believe the bad. we, especially women, are so good at remembering the hurtful and harsh things ever said to us. i will never forget the countless times i was told by dear friends that i was too {fill in the blank} or not enough {fill in the blank again} for them to remain friends with me. i fear so much the words of rejection and loneliness. when words of encouragement is your primary love language the smallest of harsh words will remain and resurface time and time again. that fact alone makes me so afraid for the words coming out of my mouth and being absorbed by my children. i have been so harsh with them. and that in turns makes me harsh on myself. i do not want this to be their legacy. i do not want the words in their head to echo the ones i have said lately. words laden with guilt and condemnation rather than grace and a hope. 

the honest truth is that there are a lot of them and i am juggling all the time. if i'm not nursing the baby, i'm changing a diaper or making a meal or putting someone in time out or folding a load of laundry or playing puppets or coloring or taking someone out of time out or putting everyone in time out. even mommy. i have a lot on my to-do list, all good intentioned and things that need to or i would really like to get done. nothing from pinterest, or a crafting blog. those days are completely gone. i would love to get my pantry inventoried. or get the back of my car organized with an emergency kit and appropriate clothes for all the kids. all good intentioned. 



but there is no time. NO TIME. i make time for myself and things that enable me to shut my brain off  after the kids are in bed. i wake up early just to make sure i get two essentials in, coffee and christ. yes it is a season. i've said that. you've said that. we all say that. but the reality is that i will die to myself everyday for the rest of my life. because i am a mom. and being a mom is a huge responsibility. but a great privilege too. 

 i am the boo boo kisser. the soother and snuggler. i get the squeezes and smooches. laine told me how beautiful my voice was and that he loves that i sing to him every night. {melt} and cora talks about how she's going to be a mommy and love her babies. {melt} and hazel tells me 'i yuv yu mama.' {melt melt melt} and anne. well, she smiles the most wonderful smiles. and those make my fears, pain, frustration and hurt melt away all at once.


the ebb and flow of my emotions and motherhood seem to be a wild ride right now. i am doing my best to be strong and firm in the lord. to know my limits and to accept the new ones i need to make. i find that change, though hated, can be a welcome blessing. acceptance, true acceptance is the hardest part. and remembering this is not how my story will end. i refuse to let it be.

1 comment:

  1. I love that last picture. All you can see is Brent's arm and hand.

    Sometimes I feel like I am the last one you would want a response from, but like you I hear voices that lie to me. The other day I had one run through my head and I mumbled out loud in response "that's a lie!" Emily was sitting next to me and said "what?" I replied "did I say that out loud? sorry, just thinking out loud." Keep rejecting the lies, because you are doing an amazing job under very difficult circumstances.

    ReplyDelete

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...