September 17

How are these weeks only a week long? Since when has a week always been so densely packed with experiences?

When Amy and I were playing a game of Bingo, Sarah came in and as she sat down she said, “where’s my board?” and then proceeded to play a game with us. I love that she asked about her board. I feel like that indicates another level of being engaged and wanting to be engaged. WOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love how these tiny moments keep happening.

When Sarah and I walked to get Amy from school on Tuesday Sarah wanted me to carry her (not abnormal) and I started giving her lots of kisses. She kept presenting her arm and then her cheek for kisses and seemed to be loving it. I was too. She also said hi to three strangers. They didn’t hear her or didn’t know she was talking to them, but it was still awesome, especially given that one of them was a kid.

I was marveling recently at how different my children are in ways that serve us and them very well. Amy has always learned most things, such as talking and writing, easily. She has also hated to be corrected and hates to mess up. Sarah has always needed a lot of practice with such skills, to put it mildly. Fortunately, Sarah doesn’t mind being corrected or helped or asked to try again about a million times. Is this just a fortunate character trait? Is it because of how we Son-Rised it up so much around her language learning at the beginning? Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

Tuesday was Roald Dahl’s 100th birthday (if he was still alive) and Amy’s school allowed kids to dress up as favorite characters. I was not going to miss this opportunity! Amy went as Sophie and I went as the BFG. It was a long walk in my heels. I think for Halloween I need a different shoe solution. My thighs are still sore.

I devoured Glennon Doyle Melton’s Love Warrior. I highly recommend it, along with Carry On, Warrior. She is a beautiful, raw-honest truth-teller. I LOVE HER. I love her writing and her wisdom. I love her realness. She talks about the different ways in which people tell the truth about their experience of life and how hard life is for them. Some people tell the truth through eating disorders or addictions. They may not find words to express their truth, but they express it through their bodies and actions and struggles. I feel like I tell the truth in my muscles and with my headaches. The truth that along with all the amazing gorgeousness of the blessings of my life, that sometimes things feel HARD. That sometimes I can feel like the challenge of getting the children to do what I want them to do at a given moment can feel so impossible that I just want to lie down and not even try. The goal may be as simple as a bath, but it can sometimes feel insurmountable. Maybe some of the truth is how hard I’ve tried to be perfect and have people like me. Some of the truth is how hard things sometimes felt throughout school when faced with a dining hall and where to sit. That was way too impossibly scary. There are so many hard moments, whether large or small, when I have muscled on. Because that is really what most of us to do accomplish life. That is the beautiful bravery of it all. Sometimes it is crazy big brave actions and sometimes it may seem small and trivial on the outside but it is momentously huge on the inside. As I look back on so many of my muscling-on moments I am finding more compassion for my younger self (younger by years or by a day) and being able to think, “oh, wow, that felt really hard and I didn’t let myself fully acknowledge my feelings at the time."

During my Jenny-Rise sessions I am able to listen to what my body is telling me more clearly than I can the rest of the time. I also feel like I’m not alone in needing to fix it. I so often want to do things myself and think I should be able to fix all my tight spots myself. It is a relief to have someone find the tiniest trigger points in the deepest spots that feel like they have been mouldering for years. It hurts to have them worked on but it is such a good hurt where I feel like, “oh, thank God someone is finally pressing there!” It’s not just the trigger points. I feel like I have someone shining a flashlight for me as I look through the emotional trash. He is just there holding a safe space for my journey. I am blessed to have multiple people, especially my mom and Carl, who accompany me frequently with a safe space and a flashlight. Now J helps me find the answers (and questions) that have been hiding in plain sight in my body for all these years. What a wonderful Jenny-Rise team. 

It is easy to always put off some self-care things, thinking there will be time as soon as all the laundry, dishes, mail, pick-up, emails, etc are done. But why not reverse the order of priority when there is flexibility to do so? Yes, my kitchen is a royal mess and something may be starting to smell funky so I can’t put it off forever. Yes, it would be a gift to myself to have a clean kitchen for a few hours. Yes, sometimes that is the answer. But. Sometimes it is important to rest first, cry first, breathe first, get a Jenny-Rise session first. I have been squeezing those things out of my schedule for so many years. I know I do make time for them sometimes. But not as regularly and fully as the other mundane items. It is time to stop squeezing myself and start squeezing the time spent doing dishes. When I get to the end, will I remember that I always had a tidy kitchen and house (well, no, because I rarely do) or will I remember all the moments of finding deep, peaceful truth when I took the time to just be? 

In wanting to just be and rest, sometimes I feel annoyed at the presence and neediness of my dearly beloved small people. Sometimes the answer is actually to pull them in closer. If I am trying to not be with them but we are all co-existing in the same space, then sometimes the answer is to be more fully with them. Sometimes the answer is tv so I can go hide. But sometimes the answer is to hold them close and really be 100% with them. This morning I was feeling royally annoyed and just wanting to be alone to rest and rest and rest. They asked to go to the basement. Instead of just saying yes and opening the door, I pulled Amy onto my lap and asked her how I would survive without her? I hammed it up. Amy loved it. Sarah climbed on me too. They both loved me pining for them using the same words they do when I am going out. After much snuggling and playing I did let them into the basement. It felt so good to reconnect with them and fill all of our snuggle tanks. I even then had energy to clean a room (the easiest, least messy room). 

I send you all love, safe spaces, and flashlights.