Today I was stuck in a rut.
Well, I guess you could say it was a buildup of a rut that got progressively worse through the weekend. I’m sure a large part of it was due to the fact that we had to leave the coast and come back to civilization where Grant could go back to work on Monday. And I have Black Thursday (as I like to call it) looming ahead of me this week. And someone thought—by the looks of my body—that I was pregnant yesterday. I’m NOT pregnant.
This past month has been rough. We have had challenges, big and small piled onto our little family. I don’t want to flesh out all that has happened. Some of it isn’t worth blogging and the rest doesn’t belong on a blog. I’ve handled it fairly well most of the time . . . some of the time. But I have certainly had my moments when I’ve needed to stress out, mope, or just cry.
As I was scrolling through Facebook last night, I was reading all the happy messages about Christ’s resurrection. I saw all the happy, smiling family photos with all the kids dressed up in their Easter clothes. I even saw some new announcements about pregnancies among my friends. People had so much joy and happiness to share.
I wanted to share something too. I have a strong testimony of Christ, and I know it is a joyful thing that he died so we too may live again. I wanted to be happy for all of my happy friends. I wanted to share a lovely, smiling picture of my own kids dressed up in Easter clothes. But I couldn’t find it in me. I searched within myself, and even though I knew I had joy, I could not bring it to the surface. I was envious of some of my happy friends. I was sad and downtrodden. When I thought about the pictures I took of my kids, I thought about how difficult it was just to get them to cooperate long enough for me to get just one picture with them all looking at me—forget smiling. I didn’t feel like I could say anything positive, so I didn’t say anything at all.
I prayed fervently last night that I could find a way to focus on the positive and quit moping. I prayed for help in changing my attitude, because I knew the biggest part of the problem was how I was looking at things.
This morning showed no improvement. Grant got up to go to work, and the girls were at each other’s throats much of the morning. Grant had to work late tonight, so I knew we were in for a long day. I lost my temper with the kids, and that always brings down my mood when I lose control.
I kept trying, struggling within myself to find some way to look at things positively, to find something I could count as a blessing. But I was in such a rut, I could even turn a positive thought into something negative.
I would tell myself that at least Curtis didn’t scream through my shower while I had him confined to the exersaucer. But then Eleanor kept coming in and pestering me for this or that—things I was not capable of helping her with while I was in the shower, and I ended up yelling at her to leave me alone.
I told myself that at least Eleanor didn’t flip out when I caught Phaedra sneaking one of her suckers while hiding under the covers of her bed. Never mind the fact that those covers were now totally sticky and I had to change her sheets.
There are other examples, but you get the picture. My positives turned negative, either of their own making or because of my own bad mood and negative thoughts.
Luckily, around lunch, the tide started to turn. The kids cleared their coloring off the table without too much of a fight. My friend came by while we were eating to drop off the book I need to read for book club that I thought I wouldn’t be able to get and read in time for the book club meeting. The book is super short! Definite positive! I resisted the urge to be totally embarrassed that we were eating lunch at 2 in the afternoon. Daylight savings has messed with Curtis’s nap, and Curtis’s nap has messed with when we eat lunch. I haven’t figured out a way to remedy that yet. But I told myself it didn’t matter; my sweet friend wasn’t going to judge.
After lunch, we went outside. It was cloudy and a little cool, but after a little while out there, I was ready to take off my jacket. I had finally remembered to borrow a saw from Grant’s dad, and I was excited to start hacking away at the tree in our backyard. The tree is meant to be a tree with droopy branches and pink blossoms, but it’s being invaded by a tree with branches that stick straight up with white blossoms. I’m no arborist, but I want to try to save my pink blossomed tree by slowly cutting away the large branches that produce white blossoms. The girls loved it every time I cut off a branch with white blossoms on it because they could pick all the flowers.
My brother, Mike, stopped by while we were outside to drop off some treats for the kids for Easter. I had felt a little anxious about him coming because of the mood I was in today and because things are sometimes awkward between us. I was wrong to feel apprehensive. We had a lovely little visit. He didn’t get too extravagant in what he gave the kids, and he and I had a good time talking for a while before he had to leave.
When I got done wrestling with that tree, my hands were calloused and sore and my arms felt like the jello, but I felt great. I was finally working on taking back my tree, the tree that I stare at every time I sit at my dining room table. After that, I felt like I should try to make some progress on my filthy house, but instead, Curtis and I started playing what I decided to call “the back door game.” It goes like this:
- Curtis climbs through the dog door on our back screen door into the house. Then he tries to put the cover over the dog door flap.
- I help him insert the cover, blocking the back door.
- He begs me to open the back door.
- I open the door for him, and he climbs down the steps, stands next to the porch, and pushes the door shut again.
- He comes to the dog door and acts frustrated to find it blocked.
- I poke my finger through the hole in the dog door cover each time he lifts the flap.
- He humors me and laughs a few times before getting frustrated that I’m not letting him in.
- I remove the dog door cover so he can enter the house through the dog door.
- Repeat.
During our game, my mom called, and I got to catch up with her while I continued playing with Curtis. I loved allowing myself that time to just enjoy him and enjoy talking to my mom.
Then I got the kids cleaned up from playing so they could all come back inside to watch Wild Kratts. Ah, Wild Kratts, I love you so. It was a time for all of us to relax, and I needed a break. I had two little snugglers next to me the whole time.
Just as I started cooking dinner, a neighbor dropped by. She’s a very sweet lady about my mother’s age, and she had brought an Easter basket to give to us. As I picked up Curtis and Phaedra ran out to say, “Did you bring something for me?” my neighbor looked at the kids with a grin and said, “You have such beautiful children. Your family is so blessed!” Then Phae ran out into the front yard and ignored me when I asked her to come back inside until my neighbor went and got her and brought her back to me.
This neighbor doesn’t see us very much except in passing. She doesn’t really know my kids. She didn’t know that Eleanor and Phaedra had been at each other’s throats this morning. She doesn’t know that Phaedra is sneaky and disobedient and most of the time I have no idea what to do with her. She doesn’t know how often I go into the bathroom and find that, once again, Phaedra didn’t bother to flush the toilet . . . or even wipe her bottom! She doesn’t know how Curtis screeches at the top of his lungs when he gets fed up asking me for something that I’m not giving to him.
But even though she doesn’t know all that . . . I knew—I KNEW she was right. My family is beautiful. And we are so, so blessed. And I knew the Lord had sent her to me at just the right time to help me see that obvious truth that was right in front of me that I was failing to see on my own. And even though this month has been rough, I have not lost faith. In fact, I think my faith has only grown. Because through all these challenges have been so many of these moments when I have felt my Heavenly Father’s love for me. Whether it was a thought or a mood I have felt just when I have needed to be strengthened, or a phone call or attention from a friend or family member at just the right time when I had no more strength of my own. I have felt such an outpouring of love through all of these challenges that I know I have never been alone. Things will work out. The pain will fade in time. And I have SO much to be grateful for.
I’m so glad I could snap out of it today so I could see that.
