It's been forever since I've written.  I struggle with writing.  I'm not, by nature, a rule-oriented person, and writing is full of rules.  Rules, that in three sentences, I've surely already broken. 

I'm going to release myself of the anxiety of writing perfectly, and just write.

In a few years' time, I'll probably look at this writing and cringe.  Ahh well.  I'm writing for me, today, not some future self.

I'm going to use my words:  I'm feeling frustrated.  My daughter is in the 1st grade and it's so different then when I was in school.  There's homework.  And only one recess.  There's also tests, and assessments, and all things rule-related and I'm struggling. 

This morning I had to stop reading to her from the Illustrated Encyclopedia of Dinosaurs, so that we could get ready for school.  Yesterday, I had to stop her from putting on a puppet show, so we could get dressed.  Stop creating, stop self-directed learning, there's learning to be controlled!

I went to my first school board meeting last night.  It was full of earnest people, whom I truly believe want to help kids.  But they mostly talked about the new signs for school building, and what foundation repairs took place over the summer. 

Oh, and best that I can tell, everyone there was either a board member, or employed by the district.  Except me and one grandma, whose name escapes me, but we've already built a rapport together and I look forward to seeing her again.  We had vastly different opinions, which we both found hilarious.  She wants the kids pushed harder.  I just want the kids to love learning.  I see her as a future convert.  She may come to regret that we met. 

I was asked by multiple people if I was there for a class for school.  No, I'm there for my daughter.  I don't think that parents come to these often.    It was my first meeting, so I can't really judge anyone for that.  They are probably at home, helping their 1st graders with their homework. 

Meltdown

She screams, and throws herself down. I try redirection...."let's wipe up water with towels". Instead, she gets upset when she sees a dirty sippy cup and I won't let her have it.

Meltdown.

The cup is dirty, it's not for you. She doesn't understand. And so we rock.

She screams and kicks.

A soft answer turns away wrath..... I whisper in her ear....."I love you......I love you...........I love you....."

She's angrier......my love is not wanted, it's not enough.

But slowly, the anger subsides, and we rock.

Eyes, heavy, drifting off.......the music seems so loud in contrast to the stillness of her. She's limp in my arms.

My sweet daughter, you were tired, that's all. Not rebellious, just tired and lacking understanding. I lift her up and climb the stairs to her room.

She lays in her crib and instinctually grabs her dolly and her blanket. Resting peacefully after a storm.

Tears flow, but from me this time. I am her. I don't understand sometimes. I get angry at my Father for not giving me what I want. I get tired. I am tired.

He holds me. I kick.......

He whispers "I love you"

I arch my back and say "It's not enough!"

He is patient, and He is kind. Slowly, surely, I start to rest, to relax in His arms. In His arms, I find safety, I find rest. And His love is enough.

Mother's Day

Two bright glowing faces......

“Happy Mother's Day!”

Two pieces of burnt toast, burned fresh this morning......

Two dandelions, picked from the yard.....

Two homemade cards, hastily drawn...........

One momma's heart, full of love, but heavy......

Longing for what's missing....

The missing toast.

The missing flower.

The missing card.

Longing for who is missing.

One momma's heart, full of love, but heavy......


Happy Mother's Day, to all the mothers out there with full but heavy hearts.