enough, already.

it’s just before 7 a.m., the house is dark yet, quiet.   the littlest one is asleep on the couch beside me, toes curled against my leg, after battling for an hour to go back to sleep.  as i sat & rocked him in my great grandmother’s squeaky old chair, hearing the eagles chatter high up in the pine trees outside, i thought about what battle i’m fighting of my own.  i didn’t mean to get all philosophical or dig anything up, but sometimes the half-sleep does that, doesn’t it?
for whatever reason, spring has always been a battleground for me.  just when snow is melting, when the apple blossoms are ripening, when it’s finally tulip season (my favorite!), i get all freaky & look inside myself instead of projecting, like everything else.  i’m an in-my-head kinda gal anyway, but it’s almost like the digging up of the earth triggers a digging up in my own belly.  (that’s kind of gross.  sorry.)

what i noticed down in my brain as i rocked leif, restless on my shoulder, is a weary patch of discontent.  not with big things like my marriage or my children, but with my own small self.  (maybe that’s the biggest of them all.)  somehow, i’ve managed to convince me that what i’m doing isn’t enough.  that i should be blogging more.  or work harder to be present to my kids.  why can’t i just. sit. down. & play a game once in awhile?  after i failed to remember the lunar eclipse earlier this week & rouse my children to gaze upon the moon in their pajamas, i woke in a state of complete failed motherhood.  i’m not even kidding.

honestly, it doesn’t even matter what it is i don’t think i’m doing enough of.  the problem lies in the perspective itself. 

do you ever tangle with this monster?

when i finally got leif back to sleep & by the grace of God no one else woke up, i sat down here.  i didn’t plan on wrestling this thing out.  i feel at a loss, really.  what is it that makes any of us feel like we aren’t enough?  i would never tell a friend that — heck, no!  my friends are amazing.  but it’s incredibly easy to tell myself that.

we seldom know the Truth about ourselves.

so, while the toddler snores beside me in the semi-darkness, i’m going to take a stick & poke at this.  maybe it’s all the online reading i do, all the comparing that automatically comes with it.  maybe i need to develop a thicker filter while i peruse other mommy blogs, while i read other successful writers, while watching hippie granola moms in trader joe’s carting children in all-cotton clothing.  maybe i should start making lists of what’s going on here, so i can see me more objectively.  maybe i just need to own my own life a little more, the dirt i’ve been placed in.  revel in my place in the world.
but frankly, i don’t think the mustering is the answer.  i don’t think i can tell myself enough times that i’m amazing, that i’m good enough, that i rock as a mother in spite of failed lunar-gazing, that my small writing is enough in this world of volumes.

in the darkness, i won’t believe it.

no, i need Someone else to speak to me in those places.

that’s what Easter is about.

enough.  already.

have a great weekend of being enough.  your place in this world is incredible, because you have been placed there on purpose.  & happy easter .
{[it’s quite possible i don’t get back here tomorrow for 
just a minute.  we’ve got grandma & papa coming tonight for the weekend!  hooray!}.  

2 thoughts on “enough, already.

  1. Sorry, to tell you this Jill, but even we empty nesters wrestle with these same feelings from time to time…..do we wrestle with these feelings more in the spring as Easter draws near because it reminds us of the amazing gift that was given to us when Christ died on the cross for us? It never fails to awe me the Christ died for me, a very imperfect person. Yet, God doesn’t make mistakes, He made me this way, so I guess that means I am imperfectly perfect! Happy Easter!!!

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