Archive for the ‘I think I can’ Category

Sometimes I sit here or on my bed with my journal and pens wishing that what I’m feeling could skip past my mind and end up on paper.  Today is one of those days.  Somewhere inside of me there is a lesson I need to remember, or one I am suppose to share but I don’t know what it is and it’s largely trapped inside making my heart ache and everything I say just feels like a huge whine that no one wants to listen to.

I’ve been on 3 walks today, typically about the point I get tired my mind stops racing and I come home feeling a little better, even if it’s just temporarily.  Today was different.  I’m exhausted and my leg is throbbing and my mind is still making a continuous list of all the ways I will never be enough anything.  I’m coming to the conclusion that if there is something I am excited about or looking forward to I don’t dare get excited — it hurts less if you didn’t count on something exciting before it all goes awry.

I have tomorrow night off and *whispers* no kids. Also, no plans.  It’s my birthday weekend and I’m quickly realizing that while I want it to be fun and happy it really is just a painful reminder of the past.  I refuse to sit at home alone tomorrow, but I don’t know what I’ll do.  My favorite dinner place is actually a lunch place, I have no idea what is in the theaters and trying to plan something is just another thing to add onto my list.  I’m not even going to mention the stress Sunday night is causing.

On my walk I went up 150 W, where I use to walk every time because that’s how far the walky talky would reach.  I passed houses of people who have made a huge impact on my life and who I am that I haven’t talked with in forever.  If it hadn’t been dinner time I may have stopped to visit but I don’t think I could put words to “how are you” so I kept walking.  I snaked through the blocks looking for the house on one of the streets between the elementary school and high school that is always full of daffodils long before my bloom — I couldn’t find it.

I did find noises of spring though, kids were in a backyard laughing and having fun and the sound of a skateboard was soft in the background from the park at the school and someone had meat on the grill that smelled wonderful. I tried to smile inside at the sound and smells of my favorite time of year and I couldn’t.

By this time I was hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone and just let the flood of emotions run.  Feelings of inadequacy and frustration, trying to accept how everything was hitting all at once without sending myself spinning off.  The setting sun and evening chill biting at my cheeks had me turn towards home.

I hope today is an anomaly and that my walks are as therapeutic as they use to be, I think of all the frustrations I’ve left alone my route and hope that I’ve picked up — it is still is there isn’t it?  


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In April 2012 General Conference Elder Baxter of the Seventy gave a talk titled “Faith, Fortitude, and Fulfillment:  A Message to Single Parents”  then the fourth Sunday of July I gave a Relief Society lesson on that talk.  I still don’t know that I’d call it a lesson exactly but I stood up and cried my way through.  Each day for a month I read the talk, often out loud so that I could just maybe get my way through it with minimal tears — that didn’t work.  The passage  that hit me the most was originally told by President Hinckley in September of 2006 from a single mom who had just delivered something to her neighbors across the street.

“As I turned around to walk back home, I could see my house lighted up. I could hear echoes of my children as I had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier. They were saying: ‘Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?’ ‘Can you take me to the library?’ ‘I have to get some poster paper tonight.’ Tired and weary, I looked at that house and saw the light on in each of the rooms. I thought of all of those children who were home waiting for me to come and meet their needs. My burdens felt heavier than I could bear.
“I remember looking through tears toward the sky, and I said, ‘Dear Father, I just can’t do it tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I just come to You and stay with You for just one night? …’
“I didn’t really hear the words of reply, but I heard them in my mind. The answer was: ‘No, little one, you can’t come to me now. … But I can come to you.’”2

 The first time I read this {and many times since} I pictured myself walking back across the street towards my own house full of kids with needs that I was certain I could never fill.  Today is one of those days.  It was a gorgeous fall day, I took the extra time to walk Kaede home from school, and then this evening we sat outside for a while went for a walk around the block and visited with a neighbor while Michael went out with Friends of Scouting.  I had hoped for some quiet thought collecting time.

All the while I kept hearing about the Halloween costumes that aren’t ready yet.  In my defense, Kaede and Michael have been constantly changing their minds. {I don’t know that would have changed much if they had} pumpkins that aren’t carved {and we wouldn’t even have them if it wasn’t for great neighbors} That book reports were due today and Kaede has lost her rubric for it {ahhh, can’t forget to email about that tonight} homework to make up from all of them from going hunting with their Dad and missing school on Friday {I’m glad they went, I’m glad they went, I’m glad they went} Let’s not forget the dose of self guilt on the side for a dinner of Mac ‘n Cheese {and it’s not like I’ve been making wonderful meals other days either — I’ve been working}, laundry not done {but, I kept my promise and haven’t wash/dried without folding}, a sink full of dishes {they keep rotating, it’s a fluid hot spot not a stagnant one}, bathroom that has gone unscrubbed.  To top it off, I spent an evening I could have spend doing housework painting my new wall and I’ve been considering expanding my social life {go ahead, laugh I understand} and that simultaneously makes me excited and nervous but that’s a post for another day or perhaps even a conversation.

How does it all ever get done?  I can’t not sleep, too many consequences for me when I don’t — night shift with sleep is hard enough.  I’m grateful when I go to work because leaving home stresses at home is required for me to be able to focus on my patients’ and their needs.  It’s a shelter from my storm.

It feels like it’s been a long time since we’ve had a normal schedule with the kids and skipping the details the back and forth just sucks and I don’t like it.  No, there isn’t anything I can do about it.

Chin up Buttercup, everything will be as it is suppose to be.

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