Confession

I'm tired. Besides it being very much past my bedtime, I'm sick so I'm naturally tired, but I can't sleep. At least I think I'm sick. My body has been on the fence for the past three or four days about whether or not it wants to fully commit to being sick or just get over it, and until it does I'm stuck here in this no man's land of Sorta Maybe Kinda Sick, which is, of course, my favorite place to be.

I'd blame my sleeplessness on the Diet Coke I had today, but that was at lunch time and I really hope that is not what's keeping me up, because, come on, that would be pathetic. Nonetheless, I'm awake.

I've been a lame blogger lately and I apologize to the one or two of you out there who faithfully check my blog for new posts for being so lame. I've just kind been in a rut. I haven't really felt all that good about myself as a wife, as a mother, as a human being, and not really being one to want to complain all the time, I just kept quiet. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to rant and to rave and to reach out to you all, but I was afraid no one would care. I'm insecure like that. Remember this post? Especially that part about "The experience of having your remarks taken lightly or belittled, particularly during the early years of your life, has caused you to keep your thoughts and feelings to yourself". It's so very true. I remember once, when I was a freshman in high school, I was riding in a car with my drama teacher and three other kids from the drama department and we were going to Salt Lake to see a show at Desert Star. I was sitting in the middle of the back seat next to Brandon (who I was totally and completely infatuated with) and Zea (my BFF at the time). We were all talking and I was saying something but absolutely no one was listening to me, and I said out loud "I guess it's not important because no one is listening to me." And my drama teacher laughed out loud because he was and he knew everyone else wasn't. I just remember feeling like a total idiot. Anyway, I bring it up as a very long, very unnecessary explanation of why I haven't blogged. And it wasn't the first time, or the last, that I felt like I was being disregarded, but I have it so clearly imprinted on my mind. I even remember that we were just getting over the summit on our way down Parley's Canyon. I remember the way the light looked as the sun was beginning to touch the tops of the mountains. But I'm going to try to be brave and try to stop editing myself because I'm afraid that I won't be good enough.

Going back to not feeling good about myself. I have always kept to myself. I think that's part of my nature. Quiet, reserved. I always preferred staying home to going out. I always wanted to have sleepovers at my house so I could be surrounded by things I was familiar with. I always had anxiety about hanging out at friends' homes. I'm sure that's part of why I never felt like I had a lot of friends. I spent most weekends at home until I got married, and then spending weekends at home was preferred. Anyway, when a person is like that they tend to live in their heads a lot and can become very self-centered, not to say that I thought I was the awesomest person around, I just didn't really think about anyone but myself. I remember thinking once during my pre-marriage years that I thought that I would almost rather stay alone because I didn't know how to have other people in my space. It terrified me. Which leads me to the present. I struggle every day with thinking of my family first. Of thinking of ways I can help out The Hubster to make his life a little easier. Of putting my children's needs before my own. Every day I struggle with not turning PBSKids dot ord on so I can do whatever it is I want to do without them bugging me. And I'm very consciously aware of that. Every time I turn that TV on my guilt meter rises and rises. Every time I make my husband get up to get us treats or to fix the TV antenna, that guilt meter fills to the brim. And then there is my Aidan, who I have essentially ignored in my pursuit of becoming a hermit, who has dearly paid the price. Everything that I believe about parenting, about setting limits and being firm in your boundaries and saying what you mean and meaning what you say and walking the walk and talking the talk, all that has never had a fighting chance in our home because I have only cared about me. Aidan is a good boy. He is sweet and smart and full of so much potential that I wonder what on earth I am doing being his mother. But I have failed him in teaching him about self-control because I have none. We have communicated through yelling at each other and standing stubbornly in our tracks like those ridiculous Zax he likes to read about. It's a battle of wills between me and a three year old and the worst part is is that I know that it's my fault and I know what I'm doing wrong and I am having a hard time stopping it.

It all came to a head, I don't know, a month ago maybe. I was having a rotten day. I spent the entire time I had with my children from 7:30-3:15 yelling and crying and resenting and demanding. I shut myself in my room and fell on the floor sobbing while my 3 year old, who had just had a door slammed in his face cried out "Mommy! I want my Mommy!" For weeks after I felt numb inside. I resigned myself to feeling like that for the rest of my natural born life, if not longer.

I am grateful to a Heavenly Father who answers the prayers I am unable to consciously utter, who knows the greatest desires of my heart and who knows the tremendous pain in my soul. I am grateful for His patience with me as I try mend the damage I have done to my child as well as to myself. In recent days I have been able to feel joy creep back into my heart. Joy I haven't felt for a long time.