Can you guess which is which?
Do you ever feel like someone else is living the life you want to live, and doing a better job of it than you ever could?
I feel that way today.
There are so many things I want to say, to do, and I sometimes feel like I am meant to be a spectator in life rather than a player. ADD-brain and mommy exhaustion and money (or lack thereof) and life seem to keep getting in the way. Meanwhile, I see those around me doing, instead of ADD-ing out, or choosing that fifteen-minute catnap on the couch, or spending or saving all that money in the ways I want to, and I feel that there is no way I could measure up even if I had the chance to do it all. Soooo, I have a blog pity-party.Just kidding..sorta.
Luckily, as I was having the tumultuous thoughts, brought on by the things I saw in my facebook feed, I read my friend Sara’s blog again.
http://www.saramusgrove.com/blog.html (Read it. Really.)
I found it to be so completely inspiring. Everything I am about to say, Sara already said more eloquently, but it evoked such a response in me, that I had to type it out; I had to put it in black and white, like a contract; I had to make it mean something, so that I don’t wriggle out of it.
The pity-party ends now. Yes, I am flighty without meaning to be, tired from doing the same things all other mommies do, and trying to be careful with my money just like all of my friends. And that is allowed. Guess what? I also say the wrong thing about seven times out of ten, am sometimes socially retarded, am almost always running about 4 minutes late, and am horrible at returning things I borrow.
However, I will not continue to sit on the sidelines and feel inadequate because I am not a super-mom or super-wife or super-anything, really. I will stop comparing myself to others, because it is a waste of time. Plus, if you could see all the amazing women in my life, you would understand that comparing myself to them with their organized lives and perfectly coiffed hair and impossibly tidy houses is like…well, there just isn’t any adequate comparison. If I was one circle of a Venn Diagram, and one of them was the other, there would be nothing written in the middle of the diagram.
But do you know what? It is wonderful that I am blessed with such amazing women in my life, to learn from and to turn to. I don’t have to be them. I will be the best Caity I can be. I will be a Caity-army of one. I will do. I will clean. I will play. I will text my friend who is probably mad at me because I forgot to text her back the other day (Sorry, Miranda!). I will get more involved with those girls who seem to have such a good time together, and stop worrying about whether my shoes are cute enough. I will be a fun and active mom who enriches her children’s lives. I WILL HOLD that plank position in my workout for over a minute thankyouverymuch and I will not, will not, WILL NOT cheat. I will not nap when I could be blogging and getting ahead of that laundry. I will blog, even though I have at least three friends, born writers, whose blogs seem all kindsa professional and it is intimidating as heck. I willeven find time and energy to fix my hair and makeup—oh, YES, that is RIGHT, ladies!— before hubby gets home, and greet him with a big happy kiss that gives away none (ok, almost none) of the stress and all of the joy of being inside these four walls with a two-year-old tornado and his annoyed big sister all day.
Aaaaandddd…if in the process of actually living my life, I happen to neglect putting away the dishes in the dishwasher until bedtime, or putting away that little stack of Andie’s laundry that has been sitting on the side table for almost thirty-six hours now, it will be ok. Really!!
God didn’t make us to sit on the sidelines. He made us to win the game. I am going to start winning. Not Charlie-Sheen-winning, but real winning, making every second count and realizing that feeling inadequate is just a waste of those precious seconds. The gloves are off. I’m taking the bull by the horns. I’m jumping in headfirst. I’m just doing it. I’m…running out of cliches.
Will you win with me?
So here’s my dirty little secret (don’t cover your eyes; it’s G-rated): I LOVE words. Like, I love them. I love them, I love them, I love them. I love to say them, I love to type them, I LOVE to write them in neat print (or curly cursive, or big bubble letters), and I absolutely love to learn new ones. I just eat that verbal stuff up. So when I became frustrated with facebook, and my mom suggested that I create a blog, it piqued my interest. I have created blogs before, but honestly figured no one cared what I had to say, so there seemed no point in continuing with them. Still, I itch to write. No, I long to write. I NEED to write.
When I was a kid, I wrote all the time: songs, stories, poems; anything and everything I could think of. I would write about my own dreams, heartaches, and fantasies. I’m not really sure why I stopped. Looking back, I think it had something to do with the fact that the dreams and fantasies faded as the heartaches temporarily took over. And the heartaches? Well, they hurt so much, I didn’t have the energy to relive them on paper. As time went on, I found joy again and found new dreams, and I even began a few writing projects; but writing seemed like a childish use of my time…I mean, I couldn’t actually make a career of it, right? Things like that didn’t happen to small-town girls from West Texas. I gave up… and I became a frustrated writer.
And. I . Am. Tired. Of. It.
Soooo, tonight when my fingers itched to tickle the computer keyboard, I decided, what the heck? If I don’t get a million views, sell a million copies or make a million dollars, at least I will be happier and will be doing something that part of me has always been meant to do…maybe I’m not meant to do it for the benefit of the masses, but for my own peace of mind.
Of course, my decision to write begged the question: what to write about? Hmmm.
Well, as I mentioned, I love words. I also love theatre. I love my family, obviously. I love Jesus. I love tradition. I love silly TV shows and movies. I love girly things. I love innovative and quirky ideas. I love being a mom. I love teaching. I love Texas and being American. I love so very many things, and these greater and lesser loves of my life occupy my mind constantly, swirling around in a frenzied, flashing, fluffy pink mass of crazy. It seems logical to write from what is inside me, so I am going to blog about all of these, my favorite things, and put the fluff on (virtual) paper.
If you are reading this, hope you enjoy. Much love and many thanks.
And thanks, Mom, for encouraging me to find my voice again.