I do not consider myself a “current’ person but if you are on any kind of social media these days you have witnessed Ryan Reynlod’s reaction to his wife Blake Lively’s dress transformation.
It’s straight out of one of his movies.
Moving. What dreams are made of.
The moment was magnificent. They are both extraordinarily beautiful, stunning people.
But what about the rest of us?
I vacuumed out my disgusting van while also prepping lunches, dinner and teacher gifts.
He mowed the lawn, took out the trash and fixed Harper’s fan.
And yet I did not stop dead in my tracks to ogle him.
Welcome to reality.
It’s not extraordinary or sexy.
It’s so completely normal that I am literally closing the stinky trash-can lid as I type.
Some things are just too complicated to try and explain.
But he looked at me and said, “Talk to me.”
So, I told him.
I explained how I had spent a lifetime trying to make sense of who I am today, based on my upbringing.
I grew up dead-center-middle of a fractured family and as a result, I had built a life of trying to prove myself.
I did this by being whatever the other person needed me to be.
In other words, I had never found myself because I was too busy trying to be what anyone else needed.
And this carried on through adulthood. Through friendships. Through motherhood. Through marriage.
Oh, how easy it is to get lost in being whatever your children need. Why else would there be an “empty nest syndrome”?
But it was the marriage that had me, at the current moment.
“What do you love about me?” I point-blank asked him. “Aside from the fact that we have similar interests and I don’t complain about you fishing . . . “
I asked him not to respond right away because I wanted a genuine answer.
Do you love me because I am who you need me to be?
Or do you love me because of who I am?
In other words, do you see me?
Even when I can’t?
I’m soon celebrating the Eve of 40- an age I cannot *wait* to reach because finally, you just don’t give a damn anymore.
Sitting on a landing, just outside her window; her legs folded closely to her chest, her arms wrapped securely around them. Her forehead pressed against her knees.
She is so very lonely.
*********************
I can see them now.
Four little girls, each creative, unique and beautiful soul looking to me, their mama, for guidance.
When the pandemic hit, I cradled those babies in my arms, protecting them from the dangers that lie outside our loving nest.
But life, ever-changing, continues.
And lately, I’ve come to the stark realization that in my desire to protect my children, I am, instead, preventing their growth.
How will they learn to adjust, when they are always accommodated?
I thought quitting homeschooling mid-year was the equivalent of failure.
Now, I know that doing the same thing over and over, when it isn’t working, is the definition of insanity.
In this case, quitting isn’t failing.
It’s adapting.
The course we are on is no longer what is best for my children and while making that pivotal turn towards something new is scary, it is also necessary for their continued growth.
*********************
I approach that little girl on the landing, placing the palm of my hand on top of her head, whispering,
“One day, you’re going to be a mommy to four little girls and as much as you are going to want to shelter them, you don’t have to worry. They will never be lonely. Because they will have you.”
It’s one of those moments in life where you realize . . .
Maybe they were listening after all.
At the dinner table, our third-borne was lamenting about the unfairness of it all when our second-borne calmly, and matter-of-factly, repeated my exact words:
“Emma, it’s not equal at the same time. It’s equal over time.”
I smiled at her.
Yes.
Yesssssss.
That’s what I’ve been saying, all along.
When you have multiple children, they are always concerned about equality.
New Leaf Parenting 