unhappy mom
My newest discovery: I finally feel like where I am, as imperfect as it is, can be awesome without that meaning I’ve given up on ever getting properly dressed. Maybe it’s the night weaning a few months back. Maybe it’s the return of my cycle. Maybe it’s the awesomeness of a five year old as leader of the pack. Something clicked over for me in the past month or two: I really like where I am, even though it’s not perfect nor is it where I plan//hope to be as a person forever. Maybe we start with mere acceptance and fortitude of our circumstances, but where grit has gotten us through turns into a place of love. We can love where we are, WITHOUT IT BEING OUR IDEAL PLACE OR EVEN OUR END GOAL. Now I’ve resorted to shouting on the internet. Sorry. I’ve been in a place where I’ve cheered myself on the frump mom and told me to indulge myself til the cows come home with more ice cream and Netflix. That’s not healthy. I’ve also been in a place where I’m paralyzed by indecision as to which chaotic pile in my life to tackle first, feel guilty and overwhelmed that I’m not on top of everything, and despaired in not being mom-who-does-it-all. That’s also not healthy. So beyond both of those places is this place, right now. It means: The things I don’t like about me and my life aren’t going to stop me from still loving my life. I don’t want…
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