You know the song, right?
In the wake of my dirty, gritty, my-life-is-the-worst-ever, post I received an outpouring of support. I will admit, it feels good to know that people care enough to say so. And lots of people got after me for not taking the help they actually offered. Many a good folk tried to lend a helping hand but were turned away.
Guilty as charged.
And let me tell you why:
Service is good. To both give and receive. I know this to be true.
And, I did get help. I had friends and family check in via email, Facebook, phone and text. I had help with the kiddos. I had a get-well basket and books and movies delivered by loving friends. Others sent meals and yummy cookies (specifically snicker doodles - the kind that are soft and chewy not hard and crispy and go down oh-so-easy) so that I had one less thing to worry about this week.
I've given service and I will testify that there is no faster way to forget your worries than to serve another (unless it's your family and then you just feel like you have nothing but worries). Giving service is the best way to give yourself a pick-me-up and you get the added bonus of helping someone who needs the help. Plus, God just can't be everywhere all the time so we better be waiting for instructions to help him get his work done. Most prayers really are answered by acts of service performed by other people.
BUT, the truth is each of is really living in our own private hell. That sounds bad, but you know it to be true.
If you've been alive, then you've had those terrible weeks, months, or sometimes years. Sometimes help is good and mandatory. Other times, you really just gotta get through it. And you'll be doing it on your own.
I mean, really, like I'm going to make anyone come near us while we're barfing. No one does that. Maybe an air-dropped rescue pack of electrolytes and chicken soup would be ok, but when bodily fluids are involved, you are going to be on your own. It's just the right thing to do.
And the pooping and the peeing of the pants. If you've ever mothered a child, you have had those days. They just ARE. Right? Suck as they may, they do happen. And at the worst times.
Last week was rough. I was tired. So tired. And I'd had this dumb surgery that takes, like, 5 minutes but they put you under. And going under makes you useless for, like, 5 days. And there were doctor appointments. And all other manner of annoying "protocol" that went along with it all. And the kids always end up on these mommy benders when mommy isn't available. And the inanimate objects in the house suddenly reveal their true demonic selves and they break down or misbehave or something.
And it was awful. But, that's life. Murphy makes all the rules.
Now that I've had a chance to catch my breath and take stock of the wreckage, I'm left, somewhat surprisingly, with an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. I feel so grateful that I have friends that love me even though I openly complain. I have friends, who, in the midst of their own struggles, care enough to ask how I'm doing. I'm so grateful for selfless family members who know me well enough to give me space when I need it and hug me when I need that too.
And most of all, even though they pee themselves and spew forth almost constant disgustingness, I am so grateful for my girls. Having them in my life feels so "right". I have complete peace about where we are at this very moment. I have exactly who is supposed to be here with me right now. I have three amazing spirits who have chosen to come to be with me. ME! They will become the most awesome women and will change lives. And they are with me.
Sure they piss me the hell off most days, but deep down when I get past my humanity, I am truly humbled by their presence.
And, I am grateful. Because I really would be a shell of the person I'm meant to be if I weren't raising them. I would never grow to my full potential were it not for me working so hard to help them reach their own.
I'm sure, sooner rather than later, there will be another my-life-sucks-the-worst post. In fact, I'm already authoring it in my head. (Like you don't love to read those. Puh-lease. Misery loves company people. You know this.)
In the mean time, we're getting our bearings again. We're making it back to the land of the living. We'll make it, just like we all do. You just keep on, keeping' on.
'Cause that's life.