It’s interesting how easily amnesia sets in sometimes.
The desires I have to be a healthy, active, in-shape Mom seem to turn to a vapor when Cafe Rio chips and queso show up (truly. they’re the best. no. really.)
Or my desire to be a person of great impact through my writing and speaking fade away when I’m feeling physically terrible and the autoimmune component of my life has gotten out of the back seat, into the driver’s seat.
Or my desire to be present to my kids and play games and be on their turf and terms for as long as they’ll have me, seems to disappear when someone on Facebook or texting is engaging me in a heated battlle of All-Things-Ridiculous, that don’t ultimately matter.
I have a strong vision at night before my head hits the pillow, of my desires and the ‘why’s’ behind them. So, I pull out my phone and take notes because I realize that sometimes I’m like Drew Barrymore in 50 First Dates….I need a reminder.
So, I type in my priorities, go to sleep, wake up in the morning and boom — it’s like everything that I was holding on to so clearly the evening before, packed its bags and left town in the middle of the night. Without leaving a note.
Oh wait, the note. I have one!
So, I look at it.
And the three-dimensional desires, charged by passion and purpose and a sense of great vision seem to be one-dimensional and flat.
It’s not always that way. Obviously. Because I’ve lost 80 something pounds, and I’ve written a ton of stuff and spoken all over the country making lots of impact, and I spend a great deal of time focused on my kids and they are fabulous little people. So, it’s not that I don’t do those things, it’s just that there are some times where I can get easily derailed and discouraged that my reality is not matching up as quickly with my high expectations for myself.
Feeling guilty or feeling pressured doesn’t help. So, all those folks who say, “You’re not gonna live forever. Your kids are gonna grow up in a blink, don’t miss it…” and on and on and on, don’t inspire me.
Using Fear, couched in realism, just doesn’t inspire me into this renewed perspective and motivated action. Because Fear feeds the fire of its friend, Regret and it plays this nasty theme song in your mind, “You’ve Already Ruined It” with it’s catchy B-side tune of “It’s Too Late and You’ll Never Catch Up.”
Yeah. I don’t love that.
In fact, I think it should be illegal for a well-rested woman who has grown kids out of the house to come up to an exhausted mom, who’s got a toddler wrapped around her leg, throwing a tantrum over an Elmo doll, while a 6 month old is screaming in her arms, and say “Oh! You better enjoy this! It goes by so fast!”
You just want to say, “F*** you. One minute of awake time in my life feels like 16 hours, until I go to bed and then 4 hours of sleep feels like 12 seconds. You’ve slept for the last three years and I haven’t and probably won’t for another three. So either help get my child off of my leg or shut up.”
Okay. And welcome to my Aggression Digression moment. On to our regularly scheduled program…
So, just letting you know that this is sometimes where I’m at. In that “I’m not at the starting line of my desires and I’m not at the finish line of my goals. I’m in the middle, treading water and feeling a tad like a failure because I can see the shore but just can’t seem to get there” place. And if you’re ever there, too, you’re not alone.
I realize these are common “Week Before School Starts” feelings when your kids are almost back in their routine and you are on the verge of getting part of your day, and focus back.
I realize these are common feelings and thoughts for moms of growing kids. When I step back and look honestly, I see that my husband and I are super invested in our boys, that they are doing great and that, as my girlfriend said to me the other night in the jacuzzi, “You can’t do that much more right now, Stacey so, don’t give yourself a hard time. You’re raising your boys. You’re their guru.”
And I realize that these are common thoughts of a perfectionist who loves windfalls, has great starts, challenging middle times, and is a creative artist who is also working to heal some health stuff while she raises two boys and supports a husband who’s in a growing process, too.
When I filter my self-evaluation through my perfectionism, I miss seeing that I’ve taken great strides, have moved steadily in babysteps sometimes instead of windfalls, that my creativity is re-finding its voice and that my health is in a significantly better place than it was a few years ago.
So, when I’m honest and not so hard on myself, I realize that I’m doing pretty well. This has been a big summer: An unexpected move and all the accompanying madness that goes with finding a place, packing a place and making a new home can be a little consuming.
Add to that, the guy who hit our car and then, lied to both insurance companies about it, trying to blame us. Yeah, those details take a little bit of energy.
Why do I expect myself to be SuperMom, SuperWife and SuperWoman?
If it doesn’t inspire me when someone else tries to lay a guilt trip on me, why would I do that to myself and expect inspiration to be the result?
I do have a question for you though since I’m learning all the time: When you’re in between the place where you started and the place that you desire to be, what helps you to take the step — or leap — toward your dreams?
I realize I’m risking hearing crickets in response to the question but right now, in the middle of the night, I’m feeling brave (and apparently, a little sassy) and am willing to take that risk.
Thanks for hanging out and reading along. It’s good to be with you. You inspire me.