Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Time keeps on ticking.

They say time heals.

Time does what it does - it passes, creating space between you and an event or circumstance. Second by second then minute by minute it makes days turn into weeks then years until you find yourself looking back on something instead of being enveloped by it. Time takes time.

Time does not mean that something didn't happen. It doesn't mean it no longer matters. It doesn't mean you aren't changed. And it doesn't mean that you are healed.

Time doesn't heal. It is a part of it but it is not the whole. It is necessary but it's not complete. When your body has an injury it's not time that fixes it - time allows your body to take as much of it as it needs to address the injury and work to heal it. Your body does the work which causes the healing. Time just says, "Take as much of me as you need."

Time eventually gives space from a particular thing allowing you to separate fact from emotion. It gives you the space you need to heal. It never changes the facts. They will always be real and valid. They will always matter. But they do not always have to be the filter through which everything passes.    

Time can so easily be misgiven as the answer to a problem or injury or injustice. "Just give it time." "You just need some time." "Time makes everything better." Yes. And no. You DO need time, but not ONLY time. If you are waiting for time to heal you then you will be waiting a lifetime.


Time is good and necessary and incomplete; the waiting on time is painful. Waiting for there to be space between yourself and a moment or an event or a tragedy is hard. It's something only time can give you. Waiting for time to give you time is hard.

So.... take your time. If something has hurt you or harmed you or changed you... feel it. Don't rush through it; don't drop it with the hopes that only time can take care of it all. Time does give you something that nothing else can give. But don't take it for granted and don't hope it's more than it is.

Tuesday, February 23, 2016

Mom wins. (I think)

I tell the kids this evening that they are on their own for dinner. Mostly because whilst cleaning the kitchen I accidentally threw away the left overs of the early dinner my husband and I had consumed a few hours before. (The joys of night shift... but that's another post). And thankfully my children, 3 of them anyway, are old enough to make their own food. So, yay, mommy is off the hook!

I think.

My one daughter decides to make a salad. Lettuce, kale, broccoli and vidalia onion viniagrette. Woot! Mommy is doing something right!! 

The other daughter who never likes anything I make probably thought this was a gift straight from God.  But seeing as how there was no cereal or steak in the house - because those are the two things she will eat - decides dinner is overrated and forgoes eating anything.

My son, who tries valiantly to like what I make and usually kindly rates my food at "it wasn't my favorite", also decides to make himself a salad.

I think.

He says, "I'm going to make a salad too."

Surprised, but happy, I reply, "Really?"

Until he says, "Yeah, you know.... some broccoli cut up and mixed into mayonnaise." 

(Let's just let this sit a minute. Broccoli and mayo. Broccoli. And mayo.)

I said, "Thaaaaat's not a salad."

Shocked, he says, "It's not!? Even if I throw some lettuce in there?"

"Sure, son. Whatever you want. As long as I don't have to make it."

Now, in his defense, I will at times cut up broccoli and celery and onion - basically whatever veggies I have and throw them in mayo and put that on a sandwich. I also, unashamedly, think it's an excellent idea to be sold in stores. You won't be laughing when I'm rich from it. Veggie mayo - you can see it now, can't you? 

Anyway, somewhere along the line veggie mayo became salad to my son. I guess it could be worse. I'm still gonna claim some mom points here for having two of the three eating children consuming some form of vegetable for dinner. And points for not having to make said vegetables.  

Double mom win. High fives all around. 

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Welcome back. (I think)

Okay, it's been awhile, I know. Writing for me used to be a kind of therapy, I think. A way to deal and decompress and work things out. It was how I stayed in the now without being overwhelmed by the now. And then, that time passed and writing was put in the past and life moved on. 

And now it's back. But before I go any further I must say that it really has nothing to do with this blog's namesake. THANKFULLY. All is well on that front. Really well, actually. 

No, this has to do with a not so little four letter word: R-U-T-H. 

I love her. I do. But she has entered that full blown, hormonal, pre-teen season. And she has entered with a bang. And I'm not gonna lie - I have no freaking clue what I am doing. Not. A. Clue. I think what makes it even harder is that this girl is not like me at all. She has always been hot or cold, she has always known what she wants, she is outgoing, courageous, strong. She is the complete opposite of me. 

And I'm over here like..............................................

Today I told her (okay, more like yelled at her) that she was making me crazy. 

I'm a terrible person and parent. And that's not the end of the story unfortunately.... it gets worse. She then replied "I know. You've said that before." *ugghhhh! I am genuinely the worst. (with an attitude, but it doesn't matter because it doesn't excuse what I proceeded to say in any way) Which was, drum roll please:

"Well then maybe you should get the picture."

Just stone me now.  

Who says that? TO THEIR CHILD??????? Honestly, I am the worst person that I know. And I saw on her face her heart break, but only for an instant before she could put on her tough demeanor. It was enough for me to know though. To know that in 8 words I totally crushed her world. 

8 words. 

What is wrong with me? This is my CHILD. Guys, I said those things over math work. Where is my loyalty, my patience, my love?  How can school bring me to the end like that??

And then I realized, as I slammed the door, (yes, I keep racking up those parenting wins today) that the little four letter problem is not R-u-t-h but it's S-E-L-F. I instantly saw myself like my other daughter from a few days ago who was running to the car and tripped in a massive puddle. Soaked from head to toe, skinned knees and palms. From carefree and happy to a dirty mess in a matter of a second. 

Only instead of tripping I had just plunged myself face first into a nasty mess. And, unfortunately, I took my daughter with me. 

Now, some of you reading this may understand me. And others may think what I already know - that I'm awful. And you may completely NOT understand how anyone could say something that terrible to their child. And I hope that you never have and never will.

All I can say to you is this, that thankfully my daughter is also not like me in that she is forgiving. SO SO wonderfully forgiving. I sat on the floor with her later and apologized. I asked for her forgiveness and talked with her. And hugged her.

Parenting is hard. It is not for the faint of heart. Shoot, I'm still figuring out if it's for me. My kids probably aren't sure either. Sometimes it feels like looking for your way in the dark. And you have to smash hard into something before you realize you're doing it wrong. I had one job.....    

I love my kids. Each one of them. And thankfully they are loved by our Heavenly Father who doesn't let them down, or tell them mean things, who teaches them true love and forgiveness. Because of Him, my daughter forgave me... only because of Him does my daughter love me. 

In 8 words today I crushed my daughter. In 1 word, she brought things to a beautiful end: forgiveness. 

I will aim to be more like my daughter.