Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

parenting

Saturday smiles: alternate reality edition

Generally these weekly smiles are about my children. And they’ve still managed to make me smile from afar. But a week without children has not been a week without smiles. So, here’s the tally for this week.

Watching TV shows in real-time, instead of days later on the computer. Especially when we get to see commercials like one for LifeAlert where a woman says she’d give up “bread, beer, wine and soda” before she’d give up life alert. And one about sexual issues (not Viagara) that made me want to hide my face.

Take-out Chinese, watching TV and laughing as loudly as we want to without fear that the kids will wake up.

Dinner with a friend.

Coffee with friends.

Date night. (And trying to find a good place to take a picture. And realizing your husband’s eyes are closed for it.)

Hubby starting his new job and finishing his old job. (Repeat after me: change is good, change is good.)

A successful first day at aforementioned new job.

Mostly this week has been a breather. A chance to step back from the crazy pace of life that seems to come with parenting two active kids. To focus on things that take a back seat to the kids’ needs. (Like date night, time together, writing, sleeping.)

We pick them up tomorrow. And I miss them, so it’s good to be reuniting as a family.

We dodged a hurricane. We rested. We refocused.

And now it’s time to return to reality.

Happy weekend!

 

The meaning of life

This has been a weird week for me. With the threat of a hurricane aimed for our state, my husband and I decided to send the kids back to Illinois with their grandparents, who had been here visiting for the weekend.

So, after we prepped the house for a hurricane the best we knew how, and now that we have no clean-up post-hurricane, I’ve found myself living in a world I haven’t known in years. Without my kids to take care of, I’m a bit … aimless. Which is not exactly the same as purposeless but it’s close.

Here’s how life is different:

  • I haven’t been out of bed before 8 a.m. (I keep comparing myself to a college student, but on the parenting to college conversion chart, sleeping in till 8 a.m. is like sleeping till noon.)
  • I’m eating massive amounts of junk food.
  • I’m playing video games in my free time.
  • I’ve eaten take-out once and I’ve considered it more than once.
  • I’m watching too much television.

In short, I’m like a teenage boy. (No offense to teenage boys. I’ve never been a teenage boy, so maybe the comparison falls short.)

Seriously, what am I supposed to do with myself??? Because I’m starting to worry that my life post-kids is going to be about achieving or maintaining a pro-level rating on Wii Sports golf and tennis.

I’m exaggerating. A little.

I’ve done some reading. I’m planning to write tonight and tomorrow. We’ve cleaned and straightened up the basement (finally after last year’s flood it’s in order) and the attic. We’re taking a date night to the movies tomorrow. We’ve run some errands.

It’s kind of like vacation, except we’re nowhere exotic. And part of me feels like I should be taking this time to do something Noble and Grand and Meaningful when the fact is, I’m worn out. Sleeping and resting and taking a break seem to be what my body, mind and spirit need.

And while I grumble and cry and complain and scream about how much my life hurts and how hard it is to raise kids, I *gasp* miss them and their life-sucking needs and wants.

And also their Halloween candy. (Just kidding. Maybe.)

I’ve been chewing on this tidbit from a sermon–that the more painful your life is the more meaningful it is because all good stories have conflict–and I’m finally (after almost five years) realizing that parenting is hard because it’s meaningful.

So is whatever it is about your life that makes life hard, whether it’s your vocation, your calling, your illness, your rough patch or whatever.

And maybe it’s okay to feel a little lost and aimless and without meaning for a time.

Sometimes I forget what’s important. What’s worth my time. And sometimes I forget what it’s like to take a breath, step back and appreciate where I’m at, even when I’m not sure it’s where I want to be.