There is nothing quite like my life. I am grateful for it, but sometimes in certain circumstances I wonder if God uses my life for comedic relief.
Case in point:
I wonder if he sits back and watches how hard I work to put a roof over my children's head. I wonder if he sees my struggle and is thoughtful of my breaking point.
God, if you are unaware, I am getting close. This isn't a warning. I know you will be there to carry me until I am able to recover from the million and a half things that are thrown my way. I promise to get up as fast as I can.
Other than my children, there is nothing in my life that I do for myself. From the moment I wake up, I run. Literally run. Everybody has to get up, get dressed, be fed. Everyone goes in a million different directions. I get everyone off to school and then make the haul to my work. That haul is 55 miles one way.
I work very hard at work. I put my head down and make things happen; I do not take a lunch break; I give them 100% while I am there. I go to work when I am sick; I go to work when I have been up all night with children. I have a good work ethic and I model that for my children every day.
After work, I drive another 55 miles to pick every one up. I do this to keep my children in the schools that they want to attend. All three are happy and I would never make them unhappy because it was inconvenient for me. But, it really is inconvenient for me.
When we get home, I cook dinner, clean up, put children in bath tubs, and then to sleep. I am passed out dead by 7:30. I do all of this by myself, with no help from any one. I am not complaining, I know a lot of people have to do this alone.
But, all of this on top of paying the bills (or figuring out how to pay them), keeping the house clean, the 10 loads of laundry I do every week, family drama, work drama, and trying to make time for my two best friends, well, it can be a bit overwhelming.
One evening, I realized that I had not had an opportunity to see or speak with Haven very much. I heard the bath tub running and thought I would pop in just to check in with her. My current job has limited my ability to connect very well with her.
As I walked toward her room I thought about what I would ask her. It had felt like weeks since I had heard anything new with her. School had just began and I thought that might be a good place to start.
Through her bathroom door, I heard soft music playing; She probably never heard me come in. When I pulled back the shower curtain, I found that my daughter was very relaxed, soaking in the tub, listening to soft music, and drinking a glass of wine.
She looked at me with guilty eyes and said, "I've had a bad day."
I just stood there.
Can you imagine what went through my mind? No, I imagine you cannot.
What are you? 40? Seriously Haven?! And when do we drink just because we've had a bad day? If that were the case, I would be loaded 24/7. And wine? Really?? You should be pouring water in the Vodka bottle at your age, not drinking wine. Who are you?
I then told her to pour the wine out.
Aside from being pissed that she was drinking, I have to admit that I was a little jealous. I mean, I can't tell you the last time I was able to sit in a bathtub with a glass of wine; I can't even tell you the last time I was in a bathroom by myself.
Yes I can, it was in 1995 BEFORE SHE WAS BORN.
We talked about it at length, but I don't know if I can trust her now that she's doing these things while I am in the house. My mind races and creates what she might be doing when I am not in the house, and now I have to apply that same method of thinking while I am actually there. It is just another thing I have to do. Add it to the list, by all means.
This situation has really irritated me. I really thought that it was understood that the flipping wine was mine. It might just be Arbor Mist, but it's mine.
And I think it is completely reasonable for her to take showers from now on until I get the opportunity to soak in the tub.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
There is No Forever
Thank God Summer is over.
This summer has seen many changes in our home, and some of them have not been fun. I will say, for the most part, that Haven has taken these changes in stride. All of these changes have been an opportunity for her to grow.
In June, Haven passed her driving test (with a 94), and set out to navigate he northern hemisphere of our great city. She drove to friend's homes, to the movies, volunteered to run errands for me, and even went to the grocery store. I kept thinking to myself what a relief it was to have another driver in the household. By the end of June, she was driving her sisters to and from school without incident.
However, by August, Haven's driving history was not so pristine. She had a minor accident on the way to practice one morning, and then three days later, she got her first moving violation. It was a rough week.
She did not like my reaction to both of these events. I spazzed out a lot. This reaction was mirrored by my sister who selflessly gave Haven a car.
I'm not really sure why she took issue with our responses to these two infractions--maybe it was because she scored a 94 on her driving test--maybe because she views them as accidents and thinks that they will never happen again...I don't know. I really don't know what she's thinking.
What I do know is is that she is my precious daughter and that I don't want her to die (or kill anyone else). I swear to you every time that child pulls out of the driveway I send up a prayer that she returns to me safely. I ask God to watch over her, to protect her, to keep her from harm's way and to facilitate good choices through her. I don't mean to be ridiculous, but I became very religious when Haven began driving.
Up until this point I felt like I could control any ominous outside forces that came her way. I feel I've done a pretty good job of protecting her and keeping her from harm thus far. It has been incredibly hard to watch her drive away from me. Now it is up to God.
I say this because on this day, the day we were to be in court for her failure to stop at a stop sign, Haven lost one of her friends in an early morning car accident.
This all just became very real for Haven.
She was pretty shaken up when she met me at the courthouse. I hugged her, listened to her tell me about her friend, and watched her cry. It is not an easy thing watching your child overcome with grief. I watched her inwardly and outwardly process the loss.
I can't help but think about what that boy's mother must be going through. I know she herself must have sent up the very same prayers that I do every day; Every mother does when her child gets behind the wheel.
After Haven saw the Judge, and as we were walking outside to our respective cars, I asked Haven if she knew now why I have been so worried. She looked at me with the saddest eyes and said, "Yes." I don't think I've seen eyes that sad since my father died.
When we were young, we conducted ourselves as if we were unbreakable. Every teenager thinks they will live forever.
This has been a terrible way for her to learn that there is no forever.
This summer has seen many changes in our home, and some of them have not been fun. I will say, for the most part, that Haven has taken these changes in stride. All of these changes have been an opportunity for her to grow.
In June, Haven passed her driving test (with a 94), and set out to navigate he northern hemisphere of our great city. She drove to friend's homes, to the movies, volunteered to run errands for me, and even went to the grocery store. I kept thinking to myself what a relief it was to have another driver in the household. By the end of June, she was driving her sisters to and from school without incident.
However, by August, Haven's driving history was not so pristine. She had a minor accident on the way to practice one morning, and then three days later, she got her first moving violation. It was a rough week.
She did not like my reaction to both of these events. I spazzed out a lot. This reaction was mirrored by my sister who selflessly gave Haven a car.
I'm not really sure why she took issue with our responses to these two infractions--maybe it was because she scored a 94 on her driving test--maybe because she views them as accidents and thinks that they will never happen again...I don't know. I really don't know what she's thinking.
What I do know is is that she is my precious daughter and that I don't want her to die (or kill anyone else). I swear to you every time that child pulls out of the driveway I send up a prayer that she returns to me safely. I ask God to watch over her, to protect her, to keep her from harm's way and to facilitate good choices through her. I don't mean to be ridiculous, but I became very religious when Haven began driving.
Up until this point I felt like I could control any ominous outside forces that came her way. I feel I've done a pretty good job of protecting her and keeping her from harm thus far. It has been incredibly hard to watch her drive away from me. Now it is up to God.
I say this because on this day, the day we were to be in court for her failure to stop at a stop sign, Haven lost one of her friends in an early morning car accident.
This all just became very real for Haven.
She was pretty shaken up when she met me at the courthouse. I hugged her, listened to her tell me about her friend, and watched her cry. It is not an easy thing watching your child overcome with grief. I watched her inwardly and outwardly process the loss.
I can't help but think about what that boy's mother must be going through. I know she herself must have sent up the very same prayers that I do every day; Every mother does when her child gets behind the wheel.
After Haven saw the Judge, and as we were walking outside to our respective cars, I asked Haven if she knew now why I have been so worried. She looked at me with the saddest eyes and said, "Yes." I don't think I've seen eyes that sad since my father died.
When we were young, we conducted ourselves as if we were unbreakable. Every teenager thinks they will live forever.
This has been a terrible way for her to learn that there is no forever.
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