I'm very excited - we're able to book the cabin we enjoyed last year for another week this summer. We had wonderful weather last August, except for a storm the last night we were there. It took down a giant tree, but didn't stop T. and K. from going onto the water when it was all over, just before the sun set. I've been going through a lot lately - I get calls from the school several times a week and I'm never sure which kid they'll be calling about. I think they're neck 'n neck in the "who's in trouble now" contest. (And there's always the question that goes with that call, "Is there anything happening at home we should know about?" What are they expecting - that I'll say, "Well actually, we've just started a crack/tarantula breeding/nuclear waste disposal business - do you think that's affecting the kids?" We're not, by the way. And jokes aside, I am incredibly grateful for the compassionate staff at the school, who would love me even if I did have a spider farm.)
My course is winding down now but it's been a ton of work (and fun). We're trying to get K. to fall asleep before midnight and stay asleep, but so far changing his routine and feeding him natural remedies isn't helping. And we're trying to decide what projects to do on the house this summer, while we're tired and grouchy, which really isn't a good idea. Marital finances and sleep deprivation do not mix.
At my mom's support group last night, some moms gave the impression that, since my kids had some supports that theirs did not, my life was rosy. I felt envied. Other moms mostly saw the stress. I did not have as many supports as they did. I felt their sympathy.
I feel the same way when people react to my home. Some people see my 35 year old bungalow for the first time and say, "How can you live here? It's soooo tiny." And others say, "How could you replace all your windows at once? I can't even afford to replace one."
Same goes for my spiritual life; I'm too squeaky clean for some, too messed up for others.
Pity. Envy. Pity. Envy. I don't want either. What I'd really like is to not have to do image-control by playing up my success to those who look down on me and then playing up my pain to others.
I want you to hear and celebrate the good stuff with me, even if you wish my blessings were yours too. To show empathy even if you don't understand my struggles, or think I'm handling them correctly, or that they're half as hard as your own.
Don't be quick to jump to conclusions about whether my life is too black or too white.
It's rainbow.
Which means there's been a whole lot of storms lately, but the sun is definitely still shining.
