Where is MY village?
Where is my village?
it takes a village, right? that's what they say- where is MY village?
Sometimes my wading through the water starts to feel like I'm getting caught up in the mud. Maybe I'm sinking in quicksand.
I have two jobs, a hobby, four kids, four animals, a house, a husband...
There is so much to do, and one lifetime to do it.
from the outside, everything looks perfect. We smile, we hug... we laugh...
I'm perfectly happy-
and I'm in the best place I've ever been
but on the inside, I find myself buried in a corner, hiding my face- so no one can see how bad I'm crying. I've locked the bathroom door. Our schedules have changed, our routines are off
and my house is out of order.
I can't stand it when things get out of order.
I can't function when things get out of order.
I get overwhelmed when things get out of order.
my strength dissipates when the managed chaos gets out of order.
What's worse.. is it feels like I am the only one it bothers.
No one else cares that there is a coaster in the bathroom. No one else cares if there are cookies in the cabinet with their wrapper not sealed. No one else cares there are crumbs on the floor and a hairbrush in the kitchen.
The tables are never wiped down and the blankets are no longer folded.
The beds- are a mess. and pillows are on the floor.
but no one else cares.
So why do I?
Why do wet towels bother me?
What's the big deal about the toilet seat being left up?
Why do I care so much that it cripples me, especially if no one else does?
The Tupperware is not stacked and the cabinet doors won't shut.
The dishwasher hasn't been started.
Why is it that I can look like I'm glowing and prospering and doing my absolute best out in the world-
but when I'm not putting on a front- I'm locked in my bathroom sobbing because I can't face how much chaos I'm responsible for managing.
There is a mile of laundry that needs to be tackled.
Where is MY village?
When my ADD kicks in, and my anxiety about life starts to suffocate me.
Panic puts its hand over my mouth- and I can't breathe.
My ears ring and plug when my heart beats too fast.
I wish I had someone to come visit me, help me, tell me I'm doing a good job.
Keep me company while I fight my demons buried in the laundry.
I wish I really could snap my fingers, and everything place itself back where it belongs.
Instantly, I could part the waves of chaos,
all of our tiny treasures flying through the air-
gently surface back to their homes,
And every time we looked for something, we knew exactly where it was.
Boy, that would be the dream-
I wish life were that simple.
Messes cleaned themselves.
but life is much more complicated than that.
And if the messes cleaned themselves, how wonderful and awful it would be at the same time.
it would become a point of annoyance-
things we once long for turn into things we can't stand.
I don't want a bed being made while I'm still in it.
Or a shower washing itself before I was finished.
Can you imagine taking a dish from the cabinet, and it was back in place before you could put it on the table?
I would rather clean my own messes.
someone has to care... it might as well be me.
I would rather care than not care.
I love lighting candles.
I love lighting candles, watching them dance with their flickering flames.
I see the warmth of their amber color that I've made into a home.
It feels whole to walk through the lit hallways-
After I've tidied the day-
I wish I could have it all-
and I sure do like to try.
What's that they say about a clean house and a wasted life?
Every single day, we are faced with something new.