14 August 2013

wrestling with angels

someone used the term supermom in the same sentence with me the other day. very graciously, i replied, "i don't think my children, those little darlings to whom i mother, would concur". here's why.
the glow of boys who are about to run an early 5k

they live with me. they taste my homemade scones and hear my deafening tirades over lost scissors and unkempt rooms. i'm pretty much a disaster. a broken, cracks-can't-hold-in-the-water, disaster who happens to make really good treats, entertains for fun and fully and completely owns her shit of which includes swearing.

i thought about that little phrase last night when i awoke at 2.30 am. owning my shit. and i thought, i bet the entire world's problems could be solved if more people just owned up to their weaknesses, foibles and mistakes. can you imagine?

because guess what my darlings? we can't always be right, know it all, get it the first time. we all have stuff we would rather not be found out on. i am one who would rather tell you in plain text than to try to pretend otherwise. it's truly unbecoming. and who isn't cheered with another who is quick to the punch admitting she's wrong, imperfect and so so not a supermom? 

i tell you, i have only 24 hours in my short day. that's not enough time to posture and pretend or defend. and i generally don't set time aside for those who do. 

most nights when i wake at 2.30, it's because i feel like i'm wrestling with an angel{and have to use the loo}. i've done or said something the previous day that warrants regret. so i toss and turn in my bed, languishing. begging, plotting, planning a way to change. making a to do list on how to be more intentional with patience. to be less exacting. to be kind. my children are the ones who see this side of me most. they are the ones who see my anger{synonyms could be fury or rage}. they are also the ones who hear my regret as i ask them to forgive me and say things like, "i was wrong". 

so what is the take away from this you might wonder? well, a long time ago a person wrote, "the truth will set you free". and it is, well, true. trying to pretend takes more work than i wish to put forth. i'm lazy. so rather than make you think i am patient or sweet or even super, i'll just tell you. i'm not. but i do make good eats. that's the honest truth. 

verily yours,

xo gf