Sometimes I feel like I am at the end of my rope. The rope I so tightly hang onto is the rope that represents my life: my children, my husband, my household, my family, my friends, my extracurricular activities, my church.... This particular rope has gotten thicker through the years. When I was a kid it didn't seem like such an accomplishment to keep holding on from day to day. But these days, holding on seems to take a little bit more effort and determination. Steve is always trying to get me to go to bed earlier at night. But my response is always, "As soon as I hit the pillow, everything starts over again." I much prefer to fall asleep watching TV, be startled awake by the TIVO telling me the show is over and drag myself to my second sleep in my comfy bed. It probably sounds strange to some, but to you mothers you know exactly what I mean.
Before I go much further I would like to clarify, that I know I am blessed. I have much to be thankful for. That's what makes holding onto this rope so frustrating sometimes. I know things are really good in my life...why do I feel so frazzled?
As I ponder these types of questions I realize this one thing. I need a fan. No, not an extra cooling device in my house that collects dust in order to give my black coffee drinker something to talk about. No, I need a fan. Yes, I am that needy. I have been reading a book about a guy who is a big time celebrity and he has fans everywhere he turns, cheering him on, telling him how much they love him, and how great he is. It is annoying to him. It sounds thrilling to me.
Last night my mechanic told me that Steve is lucky to have me as a wife. The reason for this great compliment was, my mechanic knows I take care of the cars in the household. I brought in Steve's car for an oil change and the oil tank was a quart and a half low. I remind Steve to check it because it is an old car. But there is no time for such silliness in his life. So I, about every three months, toss and turn at night wondering if the oil needs to be changed or filled in his car. After about a week of wondering, I call my wonderful mechanic, bring the car in, and always it is just in time. This was the greatest compliment I have received in a long time. I almost asked my 55 year old mechanic to marry me. (Just kidding...kind of...no really I am...mostly).
I think I'm not the only one who needs a fan. I bet everyone, at one time or another, feels like they wish someone was on the sidelines of their life cheering them on embarrassingly loud. So if you think about that today, maybe someone in your life needs you to be their fan. I bet someone has come to your mind already. Be their fan!! It's Christmas for crying out loud!!
Here are the people I am so proud of :
JP-Keep going. You are a great mom!!
LMB- You are an amazing wife and mother. Your sweet spirit and patience is something I wish I could emulate.
TJC- You are just wonderful!! You have such a gentleness about you. Your family is lucky to have you.
Dad- Someday I hope to be just like you. Keep praying for everyone...it really works. Your steadiness in dealing with life's challenges is amazing.
Mom- I'm your biggest fan. I don't know how you've done it all. And you've done it all well.
JRG- The hardest working mom I know. You are amazing.
JRS-Don't ever quit all you do to help other people. It is a quality many don't possess. I'm proud to know you.
SCM- You are the hardest working man in the world. You have four girls who are your biggest fans.
KAS- One of the greatest examples of true friendship I have ever known. Your compassion for others is a gift...never change.
JN- You are a pillar of strength in the face of many adversities. I admire your dedication to your family, to your classroom full of junior highers and your loyalty to your friends.
...and by the way...Jesus is that fan standing on the sidelines cheering embarrassingly loud. Sometimes we just forget to listen.
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2 comments:
You have many fans...when you forget that...check your blog. You have three girls who adore you, and a hubby who still gropes you, and lots of friends who religiously read (and sometimes even respond!) to your innermost thoughts and feelings. If WE don't remember to say it enough, YOU are amazing in so many ways. You have a rather large screaming and cheering crowd (we just may not be as loud as that famous guy who is so annoyed by it!).
Go Jenn! Go! I too am a huge fan of yours. HUGE!! I am new at the mothering thing and I hope that I can handle the antics of my children with the grace and humor that you do. Especially when I know that my daughter will walk off stage during any performance that she is singing in. Or checking out her tights in front of a huge, packed venue. I love you more than you will ever know and keep you in my prayers constantly.
I myself have a fan, my mother. You referred to a fan as one that "cheers you on embarrassingly loud". That would be my mother. Let me explain. When I was 11 years old I was part of an all girls flag football team. I enjoyed playing and my parents came to all of my games. I was the smallest of all the girls (in the entire league)which made me fast and hard to catch. At one particular game I was thrown a lateral pass on our own 10 yard line. I took off down the field and was able to make it past a huge "brick wall" of amazon girls. Once past them I ran as fast as I could to the enzone. All the way down the sideline, running with me, was my mother. She was huffing and puffing trying to keep up with me. At the same time she was screaming at the top of her voice, "Go Leila! GO! Don't stop!" I kept going and all the sudden she stopped yelling. I made the touchdown and turned to see her smiling face but it wasn't there. I looked and looked but couldn't see her. My dad ran over to me to congradulate me and I asked about mom. He had no idea where she went. He was purplexed too. The coach called me over, gave me a slap on the back and sent me in for the two extra points (which I didn't get). As we were setting up for the kick off I saw my mom. I ran over to her to find out where she went. I said, "Mom, what happened? You were yelling and then you stopped." She replied,"I saw your entire play. Great job!" "But what happened? Where did you go?" I asked. "Well, I was running with you, cheering you on and I guess I was just too excited. At about the 20 yard line I screamed so loud that I peed my pants. I had to go to the restroom post haste!" I looked at her pants and I realized she wasn't wearing the same pants she came in. We smiled at each other and burst out laughing. Little did we know that was the beginning of her bladder control problem. Of course, she blames me for it. I don't care. It is one of my most treasured memories.
I tell you this story to say that I too, am a loud fan of yours. I would gladly pee my pants cheering you on.
P.S. If you ever meet my mom you can just keep this little incident under your hat. We still laugh about it but I am sure she would turn beet red if anyone brought it up. :)
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