Love and Poetry

My husband shocked me.  I am not shocked easily.  I checked my email the other day and there it was – an email from him. I rarely receive emails from my husband these days.  There was a period of time that our relationship survived on account of virtual communication.  We lived far apart for four years.  But, since we married, I very rarely receive emails from my husband.

What was even more shocking was the content of that email.  The words rhymed and actually had a flow to them.  Wait. Was this poetry?  It read like a song.  My husband had written ME a song.  I felt so special, for that moment.

At this point in the post, you’re probably wondering the applicability of the photo of the ducks.  Those ducks were a wedding present.  They were presented to us, and we were told that if ever in a disagreement, or there was distance between us, the beaks of the ducks had to be re-aligned.

I still check them every day. 

I am loved.  Truly loved. And, hey, I do my part arranging the ducks.

Chance Encounters

I had a chance encounter about 2 years ago with a woman, whom I befriended.  This woman added me to an online group of women who have opened up my world to ideologies and theories, mostly geared towards health and parenting, which I hadn’t ever previously considered.   I began to study.  I began to learn.  I also gained the most amazing friends a woman could ask for.

I am grateful for this chance encounter, which, in addition to introducing me to many new, great friendships, empowered me to take my health into my own hands.  I am a better mom for it and a better person on account of this additional love and support in my life. Plus, my cabinets look a lot prettier around the holidays :) 

Silence

Living with a child is….loud.  There is nothing to prepare you for the excessive noise that accompanies parenthood.  On days that my son does not take his midday nap, the noise seems to envelop me and drive me to the brink of madness.  Yes, it’s that bad.  He is what my husband and I call “the repeater.”  Nothing I can say will stop his incessant repeating of words, questions, phrases, really anything.

So, on the days that he refuses to nap….we drive.  I never, ever thought I’d resort to this. 

I can remember the days when taking a drive meant that I’d be free, with the windows down, and the music blaring.  I’d be singing at the top of my lungs.

Now, I drive simply to glean a few moments of silence – for which I am ever grateful.

Accepting Praise

I have always had trouble accepting praise.  I continue to struggle with this.  I was taught to be humble.  I was taught to be polite.  I was taught to strive for perfection and to always aim higher.  There is always room to improve. Praise made me uncomfortable.  I felt undeserved.

These thoughts do have negative implications and tend to affect your psyche in a very profound way.  They twist and warp your sense of reality. 

You begin to question whether praise is justified when it is received.  You begin to ponder whether any praise received is genuine. 

These thoughts lead you to a very dark and lonely place.

I have been overwhelmed by praise for this endeavor and for opening my heart and home to an audience.  I am grateful for the opportunity and for the ability to recognize that the praise IS genuine.  I am grateful to finally be able to accept praise gracefully.  

I'd say 1285 page views qualifies as a success.  

Thank you for the praise.  I accept. Bow.  Curtain.

Unanticipated Moments of Joy

The thought of blogging hadn't even remotely crossed my mind, until my dear friend reached out to me and suggested this collaboration. Thank you.  It’s befitting that I should be forced to stop and “smell the roses.” I currently have many obstacles plaguing my pursuit of happiness.  The exercise of simply recognizing that I have what to be grateful for is, well, healing. 

My son has a medical condition.  It was very hard to accept this, because I felt like it was a punishment initially.  I have since come to accept it as his burden in life.  We all have burdens.  He is now 2.5 and has been diagnosed with an allergy of sorts to his medication.  Because of this revelation, I must now stay at home with him, instead of traveling to work in my office.  I now work at home, and I am often alone with my son.

When one has a child, it seems that certain parts of one’s personality are amplified – at least that was the case with me.  I am keenly aware of my vehement independence.  I love my child.  I love my family.  I also love the ability to earn money and impact the lives of those who hire me.  I like to work.  I enjoyed having a life outside of my home.

Nothing could have prepared me for this life change and a part of me mourned my loss of self and purpose.  I questioned whether my time with my son would remain special, since I’d be with him constantly.  Would I grow sick of being the “go to” parent?  Would I become resentful?

While attempting to “work” from home, in my makeshift office, which is adjacent to my son’s playroom, I observed the pictured interaction between father and son.  My husband left shortly thereafter for the airport. 

I realized that I can easily choose to wallow in self-pity or rage at my current life circumstances, but, instead, I choose to be grateful that I will be blessed with many more similar heart-warming observations in the near future.  There is joy to be found in everything in life, your heart just has to be open to it.