Okay, so for this day I have cried, called my special friends who told me it's okay, washed dishes, bathed, delivered gifts to a nearby family. And now it's in the hour of five o'clock and I'm lonely. New Moon plays at the Family Cinema, but I really don't want to go alone. So, here's to me 'n Jesus chowing down on curly fries, watching Twilight.
We did awaken to a white Christmas, but the joy was lost on me; I was worried about my offspring. What if their dad tries to travel with them and the roads are bad? What if I didn't pack them well enough and they get cold? My friends helped me. "The kids are warm and fine. You can be sure they're not worried about you!" And somehow that put it in perspective for me. Yes, they are fine. And no, they are not worried about me. They are having Christmas with their dad, enjoying waking to snow, and not thinking of me at all. I can go on with my day.
This is my fourth Christmas as a single mom, the kids spend this day with their dad because that's just the way it works for us. I mean we do Christmas all month, he can have a day, right? But I cry so hard I hurt. An inside-out pain that is more than me missing people I love. It's destressing from all the other days in the month that I carry all the responsibility of a home and three kids, which is multiplied with the joy and burden of homeschooling. Not to mention a certain three-year-old who has been testing the boundaries, and an earache for two weeks plus.
A friend shared this with me: We try to be perfect, but we can't. We can never achieve 100%. But we can do 80%. Some people look at the 20% they don't have and throw away the 80% they did have, then end up with nothing. So if this blog expresses the 20% that's not perfect, I'll still keep the 80% that is!
Thank you, Father, for keeping it all in perspective!
Merry Christmas from this snow-covered Ozark Hilltop!