More Sharing :-)

I obviously want to share my stories, or I wouldn't 'publish' my blog, but when it comes to having people directed to my blog by blogs who have a more established (and/or 'grown up') reader list, I freak out a little.

Remember how my guest post over on My Pajama Days made me a little queasy? What I didn't tell you is that when Emily sent me an e-mail reminding me that my guest post essay was going up the following day, I almost shut down my blog. That's how freaked out I (momentarily) was. Then I realized that this was irrational. I'm not asking everyone who views my blog to agree with me or like me. I'm not in charge of them. I'm only in charge of me. I can't force even one person to giggle at my daughter's painted toes. I can only continue to blog in a way that makes me happy. If I don't want people to have an opinion about me or my life, I can stop sharing at any time. These thoughts calmed me down. I was able to just say 'thank you' for the increased traffic to my little corner of the web... until today...

A few weeks ago, my Mama asked permission to use one of my posts in a Lenten blog series on simplicity that she is co-moderating. Since I love my Mama, and I was pleased with that post, I agreed. Then she told me that they wanted to simply link to my blog instead of re-posting the story. I told her that was fine, but it freaked me out a little. This meant that not just strangers, but people who know my MOM would be directed to my blog... with all it's foolishness... and irreverence... and recent seriousness... I would have been queasy if I had remembered that this was coming up... but I forgot.

This morning I realized that the link was active and I almost freaked out, but I didn't. Progress, no?

Thank you Lord for the blessings of today. Thank you for giving me the strength to stand behind the stories that I've told. Thank you for the people who love me enough to share them. Thank you for tiny painted toes and giant stinky dogs. Thank you!

Awake Again

So what is the step that will move me forward? How long before I change from the intestinally bloated, hormone raging, sore nippled mess that you see before you back to the marginally crazed, wardrobe challenged, domestic goddess that you know and love?

Will the baby fever subside? Will the platitudes that I mouth become truth? Will I ever throw away this nightgown, or will I continue to dress for bed as though this is 1950? Will I be able to get my house into shape before my in-laws arrive tomorrow? Um, not at this rate.

The still of the night brings out the self-pity. Without the light and bustle of day, it's easy to feel alone when you're not and pathetic when you're really just disappointed.

Dawn will bring new light, the music of the morning and the unending rhythm of laundry, dishes and dog hair. It will also bring the burble and lilt of my daughters voice, the warmth of my husband's hand and the strength of my family's love.

The next step will come. It may be a stumble or a shuffle. It may be a skip or a hop. It will come. Motion will happen.

Still Standing

So, I made it. I didn't just survive, I made it out strong. I said what I had to say without freaking out (mostly). I gave him time to think before demanding answers. We finished out our holiday weekend with the family and even had a good time.

We did more talking today. We both had things to say, and all of it was valid. I think we're going to make it out of this o.k. I want us to be o.k., and he does too. We're still a family because we want to be. Sometimes that takes work. Sometimes (hopefully very rarely) that work is more than you ever thought you'd be willing to do. If you both do it anyway, because you both want to, maybe it's a sign that love lives there.

I should have a new, fun Lily Ruth + recipe post soon. Well, soon is very relative. In this case, soon is whenever I get caught up enough on my sleep to process and then type out some fun stuff. Don't hold your breath tomorrow. This may take a while.

For now, rest easy in the assurance that Lily Ruth has added new words, dance moves and motor skills to her repertoire whilst we were away ;-)

oh, that.

I'm having trouble with the past tonight. It's almost as though the troubles of today (and there are multitudes) aren't enough and I had to go a'borrowin'.

As a family, we've left our day-to-day behind, and are trying to relax. I have found a way to not only NOT relax, but to key myself up so badly that I cannot possibly sleep in the foreseeable future.

There is a point in relationships where you have to say 'that happened in the past. It is no longer germane to what we are living now'. Yet at the same time, when you uncover something that continues what was a pattern, it still hurts.

The sucky thing is this - I've had one of my 'feelings', and it was yet again correct. It's just that this time it was in the past. So now what do I do? Do I fess up that I know or do I just offer it up and let it go?

It has been so recent that I've even let myself be close to opening up and letting go of the hurt. I hate that there was more to what happened. It makes me want to ball up and retreat.

Here's what I looked like when this was real:


Can you see why I feel a bit fragile about what was happening then? I had a lot to protect, and a lot to lose. Right now, I feel like part of me lost.

I feel certain that in the light of day, I will choose to offer this burden up to someone who is so much stronger than me. Right now my shoulders hurt, my jaw hurts, and my eyes are hot and full of self-pitying tears.

I can do this, and I WILL. I am stronger than the past. I am the woman who stands (weeps?) here now. Hear me roar. Hear me keen. Hear me speak my truth to the light and learn to let it go. Please. Let it go.