There's a post I've been hesitating to post that has been written in my head for about a week. After I read this amazing woman's post about Getting Real, particularly about motherhood, I thought that I had to take the rosy-tinted veil off and do the same. Get real. The spirit of this website is a spirit that desires to brighten your day. And anyone who knows me knows that I am not quick to complain. But the desire to inspire and the tendency not to bellyache are in cahoots. And they want to tell you that sometimes I struggle. Like anyone, I have serious struggles with my own personal demons. David Asscherick has said that it's good to struggle, because struggling is a sign of life. If that is true, then there are abundant signs of life in my own!
Here are just a few struggles, aka "signs of life:"
- I struggle not to be cross with my husband on a daily basis. I almost feel as if I pour so much love into my tiniest family member that I am too spent to extend the same to the person who has an equal share in the reason why the tiny one is here.
- I struggle to accept my body as it is right now. I think this is the definition of woman. I am trying so hard to cut sweets out of my diet, and I am literally kicking my own butt to exercise. I am waiting to read about myself in the Police Blotter. WOMAN KICKS OWN BUTTOCKS RUNNING UP HILL; KICKS SO HARD, CHARGED WITH DISTURBING PEACE. But when I go look at my summer clothes, I feel as though I need to punish myself more to fit into them. That if I don't punish myself, I will stay like this with the kangaroo pouch on my belly forever.
- I sometimes think that God makes special exemptions for me to not have to do my devotions because He knows I have a sucktopus attached to my person during the hours when I should be doing my devotion. I think this is terrible in that I need God more than ever and yet I make a god of sleep instead.
- I have two more semesters of school left and I struggle with the fact that when I am done, I will no longer be a student. Sometimes I cling to this identity. People ask me, "So, are you just at home now?" like staying home to raise my child should always be belittled with "just," and yet I am quick to say, "Yes, but I'm still in school part-time," so clearly I am the one who is struggling with my own belittlement.
- When I am done with school, I will have a master's degree from one of the preeminent schools in America and yet I struggle with the fact that I will then have to do something with that degree, other than drive a bus and write stories about the people I meet, which is really what I want to do.
- When my daughter wakes up from a nap, all the blood seems to rush out of my body and I suddenly feel deflated that my solitary time is over. I struggle with my selfishness and feel convicted daily of its cancerous quality.
- Sometimes I feel like my daughter is so dependent on me that I am therefore this amazing provider, and because she depends on me and is so rarely disappointed with me, that I am not still God's child in need of reproof. I struggle so much to be reminded of my sin, that I am a sinner, and that even though I am a provider, I really need God's grace.
- I am constantly mindful of suffering in this world now. I've never been more conscious of how much I have in terms of support, resources and yet I struggle to see the transference of my gifts to the world. If much is expected to those whom much is given, what, other than caring for my family, am I meant to do with these gifts?
- I struggle to believe that I will make friends with other mothers. When I go to a strollermom group or the like, I never think that there are other moms who feel awkward and socially limited. I always assume that they are perfectly at ease and that I am the only one struggling to be relatable.
- I struggle with the fact that there are people who read these thoughts who will never meet me, or who have met me and will think of me as a selfish person who takes her life for granted.