I have been trying to fall asleep for the past two hours. Flipping sides, trying to keep my eyes open for as long as I can without blinking, trying to soothe a restless leg, all to no avail. I spend a lot of days (especially lately) incredibly tired anyway, so throwing this curve ball into the mix is less than appealing. How am I supposed to be a great (let alone, productive) mom and wife during the day when my family needs me most, if can't even get a good nights sleep?
I love to sleep. It's a favorite past time. And I miss it.
I was recently emailed by a friend to see if I was interested in being a part of our church's high school ministry 'Girls Formal Dinner.' Instead of having a guest speaker, they want some women to come and talk about finding our identity in Christ. Most people probably (I'm assuming) wouldn't have any problem with this invite. And not that I have a problem with it in any way. It's a great idea to help encourage young women in finding their own identity in Christ. But it scares the crap out of me. I'm very intimidated by it. I'm nervous that if I spill to a bunch of strangers that I myself still don't know who I am, it would expose me for the impostor I am. I'm too worried about not looking stupid or dumb or trendy to embrace what I really enjoy. Girl-y things. Things like the color pink, and dresses, and coffee, and high heels, and I don't like to cook (which isn't that girl-y, but you get the idea). I don't voice my opinion much or answer questions much because I don't think I really have a valid, legit, or right answer.
This afternoon while feeding Roman a late lunch, some major emotion came over me and I cried. In front of Roman. I wasn't sure what I was crying about, but I was obviously unhappy about something. All I wanted was for Jeff to come home from work and just be close to me or go to my room and lay in the fetal position. Obviously that couldn't happen, and since Roman wasn't too hungry, I hurriedly packed up my camera, some snacks and water and we got outside where it was 60 degrees. It made things better for a little while. We went to a park and I took some photos and we basked in the sun for a little while before running a couple errands. Sunshine. Ahh, sunshine.
When we got home Roman wanted to play outside some more, so as he was throwing rocks it dawned on me. I'm having and identity crisis and some big time confidence issues. I had myself convinced today that I was a terrible mother. Roman wasn't eating much of anything, let alone anything good for him, and I was freaking out that he wasn't getting what he needs to thrive, and it was my fault. Which then led back to the feeling of helplessness regarding his food allergies.
I feel a home is a major expression of one's identity. It's where you pour out your creativity and love. Jeff and I have been blessed. We moved out of our cute little home and in to Jeff's parents home last September. We were hoping it would have been a shorter stay than it's turned into, but we're thankful nonetheless. Since this is not my home, I haven't been able to express my creativity in one of the most cherished and fun ways I can think of. I love decorating! I love hanging photos, rearranging furniture, painting walls, etc, etc. Can't do that here.
Then, there's this blog I came across in the last couple months, and I've fallen addicted to reading it. This blogger, Kelle, is just super. I wish she wasn't all the way in Naples, Fl. so we could hang out. The way she puts words on 'paper' is like none I've read before. She captures raw emotion and I love how real and down to earth she is. I kinda want to be like that. I feel like parts of me are like her. She appears to be of those 'do it all' type women, and because most moms think they should be able to do it all, the pressure we put on ourselves is heavy.
Because I'm so inspired by this blogger, I feel (and I do it to myself 100%) that I should as well be all those things that I so love about her. Very draining!
I suppose to make a very long, drawn out post short, I don't know who I am, think I'm a sub par parent, want to be crafty but don't have the energy or attention span to learn, and want to get involved with something, but am scared to 'put myself out there'. Weird.
Have you heard of the poem 'Welcome to Holland'? I feel like I am in Holland. Wanting so badly to get to Italy. Regardless of the fact that my child doesn't have a disability, the metaphor still stands. I want to be somewhere I'm not, and the fact of the matter is, this is where I am. So deal. Make the best of it. Make it amazing. Learn to love Holland.
So I'm going to try. I will fail sometimes, but I'm going to make Holland my Italy, one way or another.
I can't get enough of baby feet. They're just delicious.
For the record, I finished this the day after I started writing it. God blessed me with a few hours of sleep!
-s
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