Yesterday I wrote a bit about my "perfect" day in Long Beach. And it was. A beautiful gift from God during a challenging time in my life. I wrote about it because I knew it was a blessing, and I didn't want to forget the feeling of that time with my friend Sarah and my family.
But then today was hard. I woke up sick, and I've been wearing my non-exercised-in exercise clothes the whole day, trying to rest when I can and getting a few little tasks accomplished here and there (I did get the podcast up!).
I feel "blah." No energy. Prone to discouragement. Inclined to cancel everything in my life and just give up. (You know that feeling?)
Tonight when I was lying still on the couch while my children were cleaning their zones, Eric said, "Honey, you know I think you're beautiful, but right now you look like death warmed over."
At least he's honest. :)
Then I thought I should probably take a moment to record this "down" day to bring balance to what I posted yesterday. But I realized I already wrote this exact post two years ago!
And this is part of a comment from my friend Amy that struck me:
I think part of the reason that we like to hear about others' "awful
days" is because of the all-important empathy factor and the "we're-all-in-this-together" factor.
I've heard SO many mothers express
discouragement because of what appears to be our fear of not measuring
up~but after talking with them I find it seems to be more of a fear of
opening up about the current realities we're dealing with. We're afraid
it will come across as complaining, or expose us as the only one lacking
in one way or another--when in reality it just means we're human (and
for some of us that's scary).
So for any of you wondering if you're alone in your humanness today, let me assure you that I'm right here with you. Life is a cycle of good days and bad days.
Sometimes my hormones get the best of me.
Sometimes I get these crazy rashes on my stomach when I have too much anxiety.
And sometimes I simply can't get things together because of heavy decisions weighing on my mind. (That's how I'm feeling right now.)
I'm going to get to bed soon, but as long as I'm opening up here, perhaps I could share one more thought that's been running through my mind.
I'm trying to figure out exactly what I need to be doing with Power of Moms.
Those who know me and Saren understand how much it takes to keep this site going. We have an amazing board of moms who donate thousands of hours to this organization, and we certainly couldn't do this without them, but it still requires daily effort (sometimes a LOT of daily effort) to manage all the little details that go on behind the scenes.
And lately I've been feeling stretched too thin. My emails are piling up, and it's taking more and more effort to get through them all. I need quiet, uninterrupted time with my husband. My girls are at that age where they really want to talk. And I really want to talk WITH them. Ethan desperately wants me to play Legos with him, and Spencer can't get enough story time.
Our dryer broke halfway through the weekly laundry job this week, there are TONS of ants in our dishwasher (can't seem to get rid of them), and my throat is hurting so badly right now that I can barely think.
And so I'm trying to figure out what specific Power of Moms roles and activities need to be my priority--and which ones can be dropped, delegated, or deferred.
Saren and I keep going with this because it really is making a difference for mothers and families out there. Not everyone wants or needs The Power of Moms, but we get emails every single day from moms who are grateful for this community. We both feel like this is part of our life purpose. But we still need to figure out how to make the work on the site actually work with our families.
I remember reading a fantastic mom-book back in 2002, when I was just starting out. On the back of the book, it listed a website I could visit. I enthusiastically ran to the computer and typed in the url . . . only to find that the site had been taken down, with nothing left in its place.
Seeing the look on my face, my husband asked, How do you feel?
Like I've been abandoned. I replied.
Finally, I had felt some glimmer of hope--some way to connect with other mothers who were going through the same ups and downs as me. But for one reason or another, the book author couldn't run her site (I can understand!), and I was left to figure things out for myself.
I don't want Power of Moms to be like that. I want this to go on forever. I want my daughters to help run it when they are moms. I want this community to BE there for the moms who need it.
But you know what? I am not smart enough to do this. And I'm okay to admit that.
That's why I am in my scriptures and on my knees every single day. I am counting on God to help us make this work, I am doing my very best to listen to Him, and I am grateful that He is willing to use my inadequate hands to help orchestrate this beautiful movement.
So that's all for now. Thanks for caring. Thanks for all you do for your families.
Going to bed now. . . .