Two nights ago, I was talking to my best friend about my career/life ADD, how I want to do everything, and see everything and taste everything.
How I compulsively explore [everything] until I am satisfied with understanding on some level how it works.
How I can’t watch a documentary on anything without deciding that there must be some way I can help, something I can do,
and actually thinking through a plan on how I can do something and motivate others to do something too
… until something else comes along to steal my heart and attention and tears.
I was also talking to her about my children. Last week, with the snow and the ice, we were trapped together in a house that seemed to shrink 7 sizes.
The kids were acting out – from boredom or from cabin fever or simply because they were kids – and my thermostat was raising, up, up, up to the boiling point.
I sat in the cold garage, huddled in a coat, scarf and gloves next to my washer and dryer on a folding chair and I cried.
Its not the first time I’ve felt like I am at my wits end.
Not the first time I felt like I was spending more time yelling than smiling
More time cleaning than playing
More time trying to hatch a plan for escape than living in the moment…
It was not the first [or last] time I felt like a failure, for not being what they need.
I was telling her over tea in a quiet house after lights were out and beds were full, and I started crying because I realized:
With all of my career & life ADD, I have never once doubted that I wanted to be a mom.
For all of my second guessing and changing paths, a MOM was the place that was rooted in my heart, the only thing I’ve never doubted, the only thing I’ve ever known, beyond a doubt, that I wanted for my life.
And of course, that means that it is the only thing that my failure at would ensure failing at life. OK, maybe that’s a little dramatic. But it is what I fear failing at most – being a good mom. Being a creative and smart and patient and kind mother. Being a mom who’s kids grow up to share, and love, and tolerate.
Terrified I will produce end products that are damaged, and messy, and broken, and full of insecurities and doubts and fear… [like me]
One of the “causes” that has come up to me for as long as I can remember is adoption. I have always wanted children, and I have always wanted some of them to be adopted. So, from time to time, when I’m in a mushy state of mind, I go to websites about adoption, blogs from moms who have adopted, like http://www.welcometomybrain.net/ , or http://familyrootedinlove.blogspot.com/ or http://www.givenmuchmom.com/ .
And I click links (have I mentioned, I’m a compulsively link clicker?). And I sigh and I cry and I have a pattern that goes something like this:
How I compulsively explore [everything] until I am satisfied with understanding on some level how it works.
How I can’t watch a documentary on anything without deciding that there must be some way I can help, something I can do,
and actually thinking through a plan on how I can do something and motivate others to do something too
… until something else comes along to steal my heart and attention and tears.
 |
| last week in Texas. it may not seem like much, but 5"is alot for us. |
The kids were acting out – from boredom or from cabin fever or simply because they were kids – and my thermostat was raising, up, up, up to the boiling point.
I sat in the cold garage, huddled in a coat, scarf and gloves next to my washer and dryer on a folding chair and I cried.
Its not the first time I’ve felt like I am at my wits end.
Not the first time I felt like I was spending more time yelling than smiling
More time cleaning than playing
More time trying to hatch a plan for escape than living in the moment…
It was not the first [or last] time I felt like a failure, for not being what they need.
I was telling her over tea in a quiet house after lights were out and beds were full, and I started crying because I realized:
With all of my career & life ADD, I have never once doubted that I wanted to be a mom.
For all of my second guessing and changing paths, a MOM was the place that was rooted in my heart, the only thing I’ve never doubted, the only thing I’ve ever known, beyond a doubt, that I wanted for my life.
Being a mom is the only thing I've ever been sure of.
And of course, that means that it is the only thing that my failure at would ensure failing at life. OK, maybe that’s a little dramatic. But it is what I fear failing at most – being a good mom. Being a creative and smart and patient and kind mother. Being a mom who’s kids grow up to share, and love, and tolerate.
And I’m terrified I will fail.
Terrified I will produce end products that are damaged, and messy, and broken, and full of insecurities and doubts and fear… [like me]
One of the “causes” that has come up to me for as long as I can remember is adoption. I have always wanted children, and I have always wanted some of them to be adopted. So, from time to time, when I’m in a mushy state of mind, I go to websites about adoption, blogs from moms who have adopted, like http://www.welcometomybrain.net/ , or http://familyrootedinlove.blogspot.com/ or http://www.givenmuchmom.com/ .
And I click links (have I mentioned, I’m a compulsively link clicker?). And I sigh and I cry and I have a pattern that goes something like this:
- Read touching story about children in need of adoption
- Cry a lot
- Read it again
- Decide I want to adopt every child in need and scheme up ways I can make the shed into additional living space for the 17 children I’m bringing home
- Decide it is unlikely I can afford to do that
- Wonder what else I can do
- Decide to go ahead and think about something else (since I can’t do anything)
- Go back to it again and think that I want another child
- ...And that my children should see this, and my children should know that they are part of something bigger, and that "family" doesn’t just mean those who are related by the same dna strands coursing through our veins
- Listen to the little voice in my head that says,”Uhhh, you can barely handle the ones you have, much less a new one … with issues.”
- Agree with the voice in my head.
- But still… feel my heart break as I watch and listen and read and know…
If I don’t, who will?
"Sometimes I would like to ask God why he allows poverty, famine and injustice in the world when he could do something about it... but I'm afraid he might ask me the same question." - Anonymous
Great post! I love it. You are always making a difference in the lives of others. We do it even without knowing how sometimes. So keep up the good work!
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