You're doing great. Really.

I've always had something of an ego problem. I mean, I never thought I was better than anyone else, or cooler, or smarter, or more talented. I mean, I knew plenty of amazing people who were clearly more cool, smart, talented, beautiful, etc. I definitely don't think I've ever struggled with an "I'm better than you" mentality. But I also never really struggled with a "I suck" problem either. I feel like I've had a pretty healthy dose of feeling good about what I was able to do. When I put my mind to something, I usually saw results. I always got good grades, did my homework on time, explored my talents, etc. 

So maybe it's not so much that I had an ego problem. I really just had a healthy self esteem.

Then I became a mom.

Motherhood has been one of the most amazing, humbling, awe-inspiring, joyful experience of my life. It's also been the most challenging, draining, and tiring. And for probably the first time in my life, I often get feelings of "I'm just not cut out for this." And I have to be honest, it's a new thing for me.

Do get me wrong. There are plenty (PLENTY) of things I'm not cut out for. I can't sew to save my life (seriously). I am not particularly athletic. I'm not crafty. I'm not a lot of things. But here's the thing: I don't really care that I can't sew, pass a football, or throw the most amazing dinner party. But being a mom is something I do care about. It's something I've poured my heart and soul into. It's something I worry about every. single. day. It's something I desperately want to be good at.

Now let's just get this out of the way: I know I'm doing my best. And I know that all moms feel this way at some time or the other. (Well, most moms. I know there's a rare few that just fit perfectly into mommy mode, but they are weird.) I don't think I'm going to screw my kid up anymore than the next person.

I am just basking in this feeling of self-doubt in hopes of learning something new. And in fact, for so many reasons, these feelings of insecurity, worry, and fear about not living up to some sort of ideal have been an amazing teacher:

I have learned compassion--not only for myself, but for all parents. This includes many parents that I used to quietly roll my eyes at when they were doing something different than I would. Now when I see a parent struggling with a spirited child, instead of judging I want to reach out and hug them.

I have learned forgiveness...for others and for myself. Those days when I don't live up to my ideals, I've learned to let go and remember that children are resilient and so am I.

I'm learning patience. I'm learning that this amazing little person I am watching over is just that: a person. She has her own feelings, her own hopes and dreams (even if for now it's just to climb on the counters), and her own will. I can't control her. All I can do is teach her, hope for her, and pray for her.

I'm learning that I am stronger and more capable than I once thought. Isn't it amazing how we can learn about our strengths through our weaknesses? I'm also learning that the more time I spend on my knees, the stronger I truly am.

Mostly I am reminded that we are not alone. We are not meant to do this life on our own. We must trust our family, friends, neighbors, and the Lord to give us support when we need it most. This is why I honor the struggles I have, because ultimately they shape the person I was meant to be.

So when it comes down to it, I know I can do this job. And I'm realizing that it's not about doing it perfectly. It's not about coming out "on top." It's about humility, hope, and love. After all, we do not have to be perfect in this life. We just have to know where to place our heart.

To love another person...

Several weeks ago I saw the teaser for the new Les Miserables movie that is coming out at the end of this year. I watched it at least seven times and by the end had tears streaming down my cheek. The next day I was talking to Tom about the movie. He has never seen the play or read the book (which is really a shame, both are incredible). I eagerly started telling him the basic plot line, describing characters, and explaining why I love it so much.

You see, Tom is not one of those people who generally enjoys "emotional" movies. It's not that he doesn't have a heart. When we watched the movie Up he cried for a good 2 - 3 hours afterward. He kept saying, "Don't die on me, okay?" (He's going to love that I wrote this.) He gets really involved emotionally with what he watches, and prefers to keep his "tough guy" exterior on. (Because, you know, he's such a tough guy. Ha!)

As I described the general premise of the story of Les Mis, I found myself choosing my words carefully because I knew this would be a hard sell. I wanted to see the movie with Tom, but how do I convince him to watch a couple hours of a show that's called "The Miserables"? I mean, when you think about the story it really is a lot of sadness, heartbreak, and misery. In fact, every time I told him another part of the story or had him listen to "just one more" song from the musical, I found myself getting choked up with emotions. Why do I love this stuff so much?

Ultimately, I think it's because it's a lot like life. Life can be hard. Really, hard. Life can be unfair. Life can feel like we got the short end of the stick and there's nothing we can do about it because often there isn't anything we can do about it. But the story ultimately isn't about the misery... it's about the character that drives us to do good. It's about love, sacrifice, and pushing forward for a better cause. It's about understanding who we really are, what we are really capable of, and why it's all worth it.

The Write Stuff

Source

Once upon a time I used to write a lot. I would write reports for school. I would write little "books" for my friends. I would make up stories, journal daily, and even throw a poem in the mix every now and then. I even wrote a thesis once upon a time--a nice long piece of work that supposedly represented several years of schooling and study. It's published in a library. It even gets checked out from time to time (only by graduate students who are supposed to look at former stuff, but whatever...)

The writing didn't stop when I graduated (yes, I had to graduate several times before I was "done" being a student. Slow learner.) I was expected to write for my career. In fact, one semester I joined a faculty writing group where I wrote every. single. day.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't claim to be anything of a profound or "great" writer. I don't plan on having a novel published, or being recognized for my prose. I inherited my mother's bad spelling, and I often neglect grammar on purpose. (So there, Ms. Chavez! Just kidding, you were my favorite English teacher.) But I love what writing offers: It offers an opportunity to do that one thing that separates us humans from the rest of the animal world--reflective self thought. Writing allows us to dip into our imagination, create something that wasn't there, and make sense of our own reality (sometimes through creating a completely new reality).

So with this in mind, I'm going to try and write more. Every day, in fact. (But I'm not going to feel guilty when I inevitably miss a day or get sidetracked completely. If there is one thing motherhood has taught me it's to be more forgiving of myself and others.) I can't guarantee anything witty, profound, or even entertaining. But then again I'm not forcing anyone to read this, so you get what you pay for. But I do hope that this little exercise will help me feel that creative gap and reconnect me to something that I've grown to love over the years.

Write on, right on.