#day9 of #30days of #radicalaccountabiity complete
There’s this thing that happens when you see pure joy on your child’s face and anything that was stressing you out, frustrating you, worrying you, suddenly becomes unimportant. Today was a total perspective reset, and one that I realize now I desperately needed.
It seems like the healthier I get, the “better” I get, the more I realize how much farther I have to go. And somehow that’s kind of exciting instead of completely demoralizing. At earlier points in my life, it happened on about a 5-year cycle. I grew up a lot at 17, 22, and 27. This year, 32, it’s been more like quarterly. I turned 32 in March, had a major awakening in April, and acted on it in May. And then I had another awakening in August that remains ongoing and seems to be taking me forward by leaps one month at a time. It’s simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
In one of my favorite books, The Agony of Alice, the main character, 11-year-old Alice, keeps a journal in which she records all of the embarrassing things she does. When she compares the embarrassments with the accomplishments, she fears she’s actually somehow growing backwards on some level. I think one of the reasons I fell in love with this book in 5th grade, when Mrs. Shotwell read sections of it to us each day as we waited for the bus, is that I related to Alice on a deeply visceral level. I was convinced I would be stuck in a state of perpetual adolescence, an in-between place where I basically stayed awkward forever.
I carried this belief WELL into adulthood, during which time I’ve suffered from a constant case of “impostor syndrome,” constantly fearing being “found out” as a fraud for merely impersonating an adult instead of actually being one. Because how could anyone this awkward possibly be a real grown-up? Over time I’ve come to realize that basically everyone feels like they’re making it up as they go along (hence the tagline of this blog) and it really and truly is not just me.
Even though I know this, sometimes I still find myself getting caught up in this pattern of thinking where I’m like, “Why is parenting so hard for me?” “Why is maintaining certain relationships so hard for me?” Insert-other-thing-that’s-all-about-me here. And that’s when I need a reminder that stuff is hard for two reasons:
- It’s hard because I need to get better at whatever that thing is.
- It’s hard because I’m not supposed to be doing that thing in the first place.
For instance:
- Running is hard because this is the first time in my life I’ve ever legitimately been active and I’m training my body! The more I do it, the easier it gets.
- Parenting is hard because it’s a constant state of figuring stuff out and finding things that work. The more I do it, the easier it gets.
- Square pegs are hard to put into round holes because they don’t fit into round holes. Doing it more does not make it easier. Put the peg somewhere else already and stop wasting time.
- “Having it all” and “doing it all” is hard because you can only have and do so much. There are only so many hours in the day, priorities matter, and not everything is for everyone all the time. That’s just life. You have to choose what’s most important to you and let go of the stuff that’s not as important.
Family fun day at the Florida Aquarium
Today, the day after a minor car accident that left me counting my blessings, I got to spend an entire day focused on what really matters: my family — both by blood and by choice. I got to see with fresh eyes what pure joy looks like as my kids marveled at the animals we saw at the aquarium today. I got to see with fresh eyes what pure love looks like as I watched my husband playing with our boys. I got to see with fresh eyes what pure fun looks like as I watched our friends’ kids playing with Miles and Emmett and sharing their elation over bugs and snakes and leaves and slides. And I got to experience with fresh eyes and a grateful heart what selfless giving with no strings attached looks like, thanks to the friends who gave my family an amazing day just because.
Taking all my tablets today, finally tackling the mountain of laundry on my dresser, surviving simultaneous toddler tantrums in front of a throng of staring strangers without yelling or dying (or killing either child), figuring out my run training schedule through the end of the year — it all pales in comparison to the look on Emmett’s face when we told him this morning that we were going to the aquarium to see the penguins, when his eyes got huge and grin almost split his face in half as he screeched, “Penguins? I love penguins!” It pales in comparison to the amazement in Miles’ voice as he talked to the “jellies” and showed his brother how the lights in the tank made the jellyfish change colors. It’s important, it matters, but it pales in comparison to the unadulterated glee I saw as my two precious boys jumped and danced and sang in the multi-colored lights in the dim tunnel at the aquarium.
It doesn’t matter how much “better” I get if I don’t have these little guys to get better FOR. They’re the reason I want to better my life, improve my outlook, be a “real grown-up.” I take pride in growing and changing, but I want these things because I want to give these kiddos the most amazing life I can, and I can’t do that if I’m not living an amazing life myself. Last night’s accident was minor, but I feel like it was a turning point. I’ve been feeling a bit like a ship without a sail lately, kind of doing the right things but without direction or velocity. I needed an ah-ha moment, and last night, I got it.
So, to the driver who hit us, thanks. Thanks for waking me up when I didn’t realize I’d been sleeping. I hope we can return the favor.
Follow my #30day journey of #radicalaccountability here at Amateur Parenting and through my nutrition and lifestyle journal on Instagram. Want to join me? Add these hashtags — #30days #radicalaccountability #coachkristen #dayX – to your social media posts and let’s do this together.
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