Inside Voice(s): Sometimes It Gets A Little Loud and Crowded

I had one of those snarky interior dialogue moments today talking with another mother (well actually more listening, she was doing most of the talking), where I thought to myself, "Well, don't YOU just have it ALL figured out..." Thankfully, my inner editor was on the job and saved me from uttering this pretty rude observation. My inner moralizer also popped up to chastise me (always quick to join the fray) , and helpfully explain to me, myself, and I, that I was just jealous about what I perceived to be someone who was having an easier time of it. Then the inner rationalizer joined the party upstairs (it gets kinda crowded in my head sometimes) and started picking away at the conversation by pointing out the challenges this woman lacked (and I have). Truly, I wanted to tell them all to go to...well, you can finish that sentence.

The part of the conversation that really pricked a nerve (aside from that this child ate ALL vegetables and fruits, rarely if ever eats ANYthing from a box, has never had A PIECE of candy, apparently never has had a sniffle, sleeps PERFECTLY, AND doesn't act up EVER) was when I was commenting that my son and I share a passionate nature and have, um, a temper. To this she speedily responded oh no, not her, she just isn't "emotional." Evidence of this offered was that she and her husband have never in their thirteen years together...fought...ever. Now this woman is really pretty sweet, honestly, and on most days I find her chatter pretty non-ire inspiring, but today I am feeling, well, a little emotional and I had the most unseemly urge to duct tape her. I was in no mood. You can imagine the uproar caused upstairs in the critic's loft from that particular thought.

It went down hill from there (inside my head). We parted ways a little while later, and I proceeded to try and not become irrationally irritated navigating my son through the grocery store with his own little cart he so so loves to push all by himself. On the way out as two wine bottles narrowly missed being strewn across the floor, my emotions and nerves were shot, and I chalked it up as one more day I needed to go home, pull some of my manuals down and remind myself how to raise my passionate and emotional kid without murdering him myself first, and hating myself.

Don't mind me, I'm just being emotional.

Photo by brogananneramm

Worry often gives a small thing a big shadow. ~Swedish Proverb

The house is quiet (well, if you ignore the snoring of The Husband) and the baby sleeps (for the moment) in the co-sleeper. Last night he slept a tiny bit in the co-sleeper, but was still keen to be snuggled next to me. I had one of those deep in the pit of the night moments when having unsuccessfully tried once again to resettle him in the co-sleeper, I had to leave bed and have a terse conversation with God. But as I prayed curled on the couch, a calm voice overtook my frantic mind and said that I had to be more patient, and the start was just that--a start. I returned to bed and snuggled my little one back into me, not so much resigned, as accepting of the fact that I would end up perched and crinky in body on the edges of my bed, but hopefully we would both sleep and breathe in unison once more (for now).

Today dawned as a day of re-centering. Wednesdays are my lifeline days, they are the days I mindfully and intentionally walk with God. This Wednesday was also especially anticipated for a special time set aside to celebrate a friend.

The subject of today's study was "Treasure and Worry" based in Matthew 6: 19-34. The discussion prompt started with "What do you worry about? What are you anxious about?"

...

In view of the fact that I was voted "Biggest Worrywart" in my senior class "gag" awards, I decided to remain silent...this could take a while. I decided to let the other ladies around the table have the floor, and studiously avoided the eyes of the facilitator as she guided the conversation.

I answered the questions silently, making mental notes about points to explore in writing later, and listened to the women around me. That was until the woman next to me suddenly turned to me and said, "What do you worry about?" All eyes swung my way and I mentally went through the humorous response I could use to deflect and move on. I knew one person at the table fairly well, and the rest are virtual strangers to me. The person I knew well is hooked into my local network of moms. How much did I want to reveal?

I decided to be real.

It was scary, and I felt ashamed, still feeling that if I could just be stronger/better/saner I wouldn't be whining about things that virtually every new mother goes through, but I'm having a ridiculously hard time coping with.

But that's what this study was about. Confessing brokenness and weakness, and placing trust in God (and friends).

And that's what I'm doing.

Later that evening, the person I knew at that table, suddenly appeared on my doorstep with a meal and a hug to share.

I felt very humble, but very encouraged in faith (and friends).

Photo by chefranden