Where The Wildflowers Grow

Make Plans. God Laughs.

I have been trying to help my big feelings kid navigate all of the curves the week has thrown at her. Substitute teachers, late soccer practices, school transitions, friend squabbles, and never mind the ever present dance of having a twin sister. Meanwhile, I’m questioning whether or not I have been handing my own overwhelm and overstimulation well either. As my daughter would say, “definitely not Mom”. I had too many expectations of a “vacation to just be a Mom” this week. It is laughable now when I think of it, isn’t it? Being a Mom and vacation do not even belong in the same sentence.

How can I teach them agility when I am psychotically trying to create a constant. I am slowly realizing that maybe a constant doesn’t mean calm or unshakable, it means reliable. Sturdy in an unwavering love even in the midst of the “I hate you’s” and the “you’re the worst Mom ever” rage. Solid requires a conscious presence regardless of the moment we are given. I must detach from the outcome I anticipated in my mind in order to be well in the moment I am in. Oof, what a doozy.

This week was meant to poke at my spiritual compass. Remind me that there is stuff in there that I need to shake out in order to carry on. What better timing than when it is quiet and I am with myself? Silly girl, you thought it would be a light, calm, jovial week. Again, self with the expectations.

My expectations, they are mine. My reactions, they are mine. My boundaries, they are mine. The way in which I determine how I use my time, mine. If I am not breathing, I am the only one who can shift that. I am the only one who can maintain my own inner thermostat so that I am able to be the Mom that I want to be and meet my kiddos needs where they are. Do we all lose our patience? 1000%. Are we exhausted? 1000%. It’s too much. And, I can decide where we can relent. Where we can let go of the “should” and just show up or not show up wherever we want to. How can I teach the girls to be flexible if I am not? If I cannot pivot with the hard and am chronically expecting things, or at the very least hoping they are calm, cool, and collected? That is not life. And, that is definitely not 7 year olds. For me this week was a good reminder to stay steady, but steadiness requires an inner flexibility. An inner willingness to be in flow and that flow won’t always feel fun.

I walked to the store earlier and on my way home I found myself admiring the wildflowers. I let the incoming rain spit at me, all while laughing in amusement at how determined I was to have a certain type of week. There are no plans in

motherhood. Or life. I am going to pop in some laundry since we are attempting to get away to the mountains to hike this weekend. Screw school tomorrow, even I am over it. I am making banana bread. I am laugh crying. And yet, it is truly all okay. I am the creator of my own obstacles, so I can choose whether or not I bash my head into them or dissolve them and be in the moment. I get that choice.

Go left, I’ll meet you there.

All the love,

ah