There are a lot of New Years' Resolutions I could have. Exercise, eating, learning, etc...all very valuable things. But more than anything, anything on my to do list, I want to actually change. Be different.
It hit me the other day.
I often can be found complaining about the person that my children are making me into. "They're so frustrating! So demanding! Whining all the time, fighting all the time, yelling all the time... They are so dependant! They are making me crazy. They are making me so mad."
Truth is, I have been outright miserable, for awhile. I am easily angered and frustrated. In fact, I am not sure Silas believes he can do anything right in my eyes. He said to me the other day, "but you don't even like me Mom." And the truth of his words hit me like a punch to the face. He's right, you know. It certainly would not appear that I like him at all, by the way I have been treating him. I'm tired. I'm easily worn out. And I simply have no joy. I blame the mundane routine of being at home, I blame the children, but you know who doesn't get the blame?
Myself.
Maybe it's not just their behaviours, maybe it's not just any list of environmental circumstances. Maybe it's me. I'm the reason for my own joy-less-ness. People may admire my ability to 'get so much done' but what is it at cost to? My standard of perfection, my endless to-do lists, my need to go and do and accomplish and conquer and achieve...who suffers? My children, my husband, and myself.
Thing is, somewhere along the line I stopped even seeing my children. I mean, really seeing my children. I see their behaviour and I see them as obstacles in my way to get the things done I want to get done. I stopped marvelling at the uniqueness of their own personalities, I stopped smiling at their innocence, and I forgot that God has put them as gifts in my life. Maybe the fact that Silas takes 100 years to go to the bathroom and get out the door is a gift for me- to open up my eyes, to remain in the moments, to stop hurrying and nagging.
And so I've become joy-less. Angry. Frustrated. Harried. And hurried. And for what? For who? Why? Why am I perpetually rushing through life? I am caught up into the raging river that is our culture's expectations and therefore my own expectations. I have believed the lie that 'perfect' motherhood is something to be attained or even worth seeking after. I honestly don't know which ties to sever. Where to simplify, or how to get off this wheel that keeps turning.
But I need to start figuring out how to because I am miserable, and so often, so are my kids. Our relationship is at stake here. My joy is at stake. My life. I started reading this blog and practically was moved to tears- she is exactly where I want to be. She talked about how often she was rushing and hurrying her kids. That's me. It's not my children who need to change, or my children who are making me anything. It's my own attitudes, my own actions, my own plans, and my own habits.
God help me, this year I want to begin the change. The real change. To let go. To breathe. To live in the moments of my life and stop rushing past them. To forget about perfection or the appearance of perfection. To aim lower and deeper- not higher and wider. To stop being distracted by things that don't matter and plunge into things that do.
On my chalkboard right now are the words: "hurry less, wait more, what's the rush?."
I am thinking that this book or this book and definitely this book need to be on my 'must reads' this year.
Anyone else feel like they're lives are being run by expectations that will never be met? Anyone else feel like they want to get off this crazy spin cycle and start enjoying REAL life?
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