|i am having a certain level of nostalgia lately for these "little" years...|
There is something embedded in motherhood that makes us have this need for extreme independence. Have you found this?
I remember so clearly a few years ago, taking the kids to the Mall. There were two of them then. Maybe three? I dont remember? But I had a baby. And a toddler. And no older (slightly) useful child. and we were at McDonalds in the food court. Standing in line. Child A pulling on my sleeve, Child B whining in my arms. (Perhaps Child C was in the belly at that point) and I looked at my arms, full of crabby baby. And toddler. And then at the trays of food the McDonalds guy was trying to hand me. Um. Uh. Hang on a minute. I can do this.
And some guy next to me, an older dad looking type, looked me up and down and said, "Uh, Can I carry that for you somewhere?"
And I paused, I actually paused. Trying desperately to figure out how I myself could manage the situation. Alone. Without the help of a stranger.
And I couldnt figure it out.
So, I looked at him skeptically, he wasnt trying to hit on me was he? He wasnt going to snatch my baby, was he?
And then, I smiled, my sweetest mommy smile, and said, "Uh, sure, yea, that would be great actually. Thank you."
He smiled back, carried our tray to an empty table. I put down baby, settled toddler, and looked up at the helpful stranger. "Seriously thank you." He smiled and walked away. Good deed done.
And I sat down. And felt unbelievably foolish.
If I cant manage two children and a belly at McDonalds What The Hell Was I Doing Leaving The House???? I had no right! I CANNOT ADULT SUCCESSFULLY.
Accepting help, even when politely offered in a ludicrous situation, is FREAKING HARD.
Asking for help. Nigh impossible.
And here I am, living at my parents house.
Clearly, clearly, I am in need of help. Crap hard situation. (Although boy's asthma has disappeared since our move, so good choice!) And we have had to ask of it, in this phase of life. And we have learned to accept it. But good lord in heaven those first few weeks were hard. I like control. Too much.
But, then, I started looking around, at my parents huge old farm house, a full two acres of lawn to be mowed weekly, giant garden to put in, and realize, oh, well, hey, maybe, just maybe, they need our help too?? Okay. We give. We receive. Perspective. And my older sister, nearby, on bedrest, with high blood pressure with her sixth baby. She too, is learning, and I know how hard it is for her. It IS planting time after all. And she is directing her boys, as they plant and pour seeds, calling to ask friends for rides because she isn't supposed to drive. Accepting frozen casseroles from the church ladies. Counting down the weeks.
Why is it so hard?
Here is my theory.
Because, as mommies, if we cant do it ourselves, well, then, we dont deserve it, right?
Because, as mommies, we have these little people looking up at us, and God forbid they see us accept help from someone! We will lose our edge! The insanity will creep it! WE WILL LOSE ALL CONTROL! AND THEY WILL SEE!
Is this it?
I think it is. For me. For a lot of us I think.
I have a raw, sticky fingered grip, most days, on this thing called adulting. I am BARELY HANGING ON.
And, if they see, if anyone, really, sees. Well then, it will all come undone, the facade crumbles away. And suddenly, I will be green-faced, hanging on to the side of the boat, rocking rocking rocking. Incapable.
And we dont like to look incapable.
Because, we then have to admit to ourselves - THAT WE DONT HAVE IT ALL FIGURED OUT.
What? Thirty-etc years old, and I DONT HAVE IT FIGURED OUT???
And so, we bow our heads, and take a deep breath and let that grace in, the grace that says, I dont have five dollars for a coffee on me, so, hey, thanks. Or, yea, thanks for mowing the lawn, or doing the load of dishes, or planting that row of rasberry bushes, it looks wonderful.
And we give it, help, and we receive it. And we open the doors, and let each other in.
When I was younger so much younger than today
I never needed anybody's help in any way
(But) But now these days are gone (These days are gone), I'm not so self assured
(I know I've found) Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round
Help me, get my feet back on the ground
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, ooh
|trying not to let my sisters' babies around me this week get to me...ovaries. want. baby. HA HA|
|also, certain level of nostalgia for the dreads this week...hmmmmmmm....do i do it again???|