So they say what does not kill you makes you stronger. When do I get my super woman cap? No. Seriously!
This week ended with a 14 yr old with two broken arms and a daughter’s broke down car that had to be towed for repairs. Add to that the realization that I have no “voice” and I have spent the better part of my life being more concerned with what made everyone else happy, being manipulated by the withholding of all sorts of things until “they” get “their” desired result. I am spent. I find myself feeling as though the room is closing in on me and my chances of escape are slim to none. I sense something is holding it all together but can’t seem to “see’ what it is. I am awake yet feel as though I am asleep. I am here yet feel like I am watching from afar. I am tired yet I can not sleep. I am over it yet so completely held down.
Everything that happens has an impact on something. For every cause there is an effect. So does how one responds to the “things” that happens in one’s life accurately reflect whether that someone/something is useful? strong? weak? right? wrong? If we are impacted by the events of life, by the people that we encounter, by the individual choices we make or others make for us, surely that defines who we become. Somewhere along the way I think we let these “definitions” have too much power over WHO we are (or think we are). I have started to realize that I have allowed “definitions” to dictate how I respond, or how I feel about my responses. I have allowed things to have power that they were never meant to have. All because of how “someone” defines how I should or should not respond, behave, feel, etc. What I feel may be quite different then what you feel. What I experience may be quite different then what you experience. I may see the glass half empty. You may see the glass half full. I may not know what it is like to struggle with drugs. You might not know what it is like to struggle with weight. None of this makes the individuals feelings less valid. It doesn’t make the view, opinion, feeling right or wrong.
So todays post is borrowed material. I have no idea who wrote this diary but I have to say its worth the read. Feel free to laugh and relate….
For my birthday this year, I purchased a week of personal training at the local health club.
Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try.
I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Christo, who identified himself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear.
Friends seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Christo waiting for me. He is something of a Greek god– with blond hair, dancing eyes, and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!!
Christo gave me a tour and showed me the machines… I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which he conducted his aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring!
Christo was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time he was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week!!
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Christo made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then he put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. His rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT! It’s a whole new life for me.
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn’t try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot.
Christo was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members.. His voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when he scolds, he gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying.
My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Christo put me on the stair monster. Why would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Christo told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. He said some other crap too.
Butt hole was waiting for me with his vampire-like teeth exposed as his thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl.. I couldn’t help being a half an hour late– it took me that long to tie my shoes.
He took me to work out with dumbbells. When he was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. He sent some skinny witch to find me.
Then, as punishment, he put me on the rowing machine– which I sank.
I hate that jackass Christo more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic, little aerobic instructor. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat him with it.
Christo wanted me to work on my triceps. I don’t have any triceps! And if you don’t want dents in the floor, don’t hand me the darn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich.
The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn’t it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?
Satan left a message on my answering machine in his grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing his voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel..
I’m having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my husband will choose a gift for me that is fun– like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!”
Crawled in bed with my 10 year old because it is still ok since he is in 5th grade and we enjoy or quiet talks at night. We start talking about our days and end with asking how we can pray for each other. I have kept my request pretty constant because when he prays for my days to go fast and smooth they do! His prayers are changing alittle as he thinks about growing up. So tonight he started to ask about armpit hair and 6th grade and then said “never mind mom we won’t think about that tonight I dont want to make you sad!”
He will always be my baby- he even pinky promised and said that even in 6th grade we can still cuddle. My cuddling with my kids now means looking up at them and bear hugs, facial hair and fitting time into their busy social lives.
So for tonight I will rest in the promise of a sweet little boy that reassures me with a pinky promise and a soft sweet kiss- “I will always be your baby mom, Promise!”
Grabbing my cup of tea and a warm blanket I think tonight is about reflection. My house is quieter than most nights. Kids are here and there. Seems like just yesterday I was busy bathing kids, changing diapers, teaching someone how to read or practicing writing their name. I love being a mom. I love being with my kids. I miss the days when they were small and I miss the times of play dough and chutes and ladders, cuddling and afternoon naps. It doesn’t seem possible this year my son will be 21 and my daughter just turned 19! Can it really be Kristopher is about 6 feet tall and Kody is shaving. Brett is now 10 and almost as tall as me! His last year of elementary school is almost over.
I struggle with the thought of my kids leaving home and my house being quiet. My life has been my kids and for the most part they are who I am. Too many days and months and years have flown by. Day in and day out the same routines have stolen my time. Add to that headaches that steal away my memory and I have spent many a tearful night praying for a time machine!
So part of my adventure this year in defining my dash is to create new memories and a way to never forget the old. To slow down, experience life, instead of allowing it to just happen to me. I was listening to a conversation at work today about tasting food. Simple to some but what a concept. Slowing down long enough to savor and enjoy the food you eat. To know what is in it because you leave it in your mouth long enough to actually experience the ingredients that creator put in. The same holds true to life. We go by doing the same thing day after day. For me the last year has been spent trying to avoid a nervous breakdown. Don’t get me wrong, lots of great things have also happened in the last year, but, if I am honest, I am but a mere shell of the woman I was before this last year happened.
So for me as I sip this cup of tea and share it isn’t about a pity party or a passive aggressive way to make someone feel bad or me feel better, it is about being honest about where I am right now. I am a woman in search of myself, wanting to not waste another moment of precious time with my children, wanting to find a way to experience the things I have been missing. To savor each moment of my day and all the ingredients that my Creator put in.