Well, it's Sunday night, midnight, and sleep is eluding me. Which has been happening a lot lately, this eluding of sleep, and it's not very fun. Anyways, instead of laying in bed, frustrated and sleepless, I ended up here.
I like writing. And I think writing likes me. I don't claim to be the best at it, but it's something I enjoy, something that benefits me mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I like to put into words the happenings of my day, of my heart, and of my mind. It's refreshing.
I've kept a journal since I was 9. I just brought home boxes and boxes of journals from Eagle. I always thought they would be wonderful keepsakes to share with my children someday. Now reading them, I'm definitely not thrilled by the thought of Rae getting her hands on them. Was I really that embarrassing? I think I was. And I probably still am. In 10 years, when I look back on this blog, or the journals that are filled with the more personal dealings of my life, I'll probably be embarrassed for myself, once again.
The other day G and I got in a little disagreement. We were both a little wrong and a little right. Naturally, I happen to think I was a little more right and he was a little more wrong. But I guess that's the nature of disagreeing, yes? Anyways, I wrote about it in my journal. Because that's how I organize my thoughts. And then a little while later, the disagreement was solved and made up for and forgotten. Except, it's kinda permanently remembered in the pages of my journal. And maybe someday Rae will read it. And I don't think she'll look at it like, "Mom was a little more right, and Dad was a little more wrong." Which is good because that's not how I want her to look at it, and that's definitely not how G would want her to look at it (mostly because that's not how he looks at it ;). She'll probably see it like, "Mom was a little bit dramatic...and really? These are the things they are choosing to disagree on?" Which is embarrassing, and a lesson to me to stop sweating the small stuff...even if I think I'm a little more right about them. I hope she see's it as, "Life isn't perfect. And that's okay."
That's all really. I don't necessarily want her to read about my stupid teenage crushes, or mischievous adventures, or lame kisses. But I do want her to know that her Momma had some fun, and learned some lessons, and fell down and got back up, and acted her age. I want her to know that I had insecurities and imperfections and I was a silly silly girl sometimes. But I was also really smart. And really fun. And I always tried to be kind. And I was a good friend even when some around me were crappy friends. Also, sometimes I was the crappy friend.
Maybe I do want her to read them?
I guess I do want her to read about that one time in 6th grade when I cheated on a test. And got caught. And I was 110% positive that the whole world was crashing all around me and life was over as I knew it. Because cheating in sixth grade just isn't something you can ever bounce back from, I thought. And she'll have moments like that too, maybe not from cheating, but where the world seems to be falling apart around her. And maybe she'll keep reading and see that the pieces get put back together. Whether her world really falls apart, or just appears to do so, hopefully she learns that it will all work out. Hopefully she learns that what seems to be heartbreak can sometimes be the biggest blessing. And that friends are kinda sucky sometimes, but family is pretty dang rad. And sometimes you gotta take it one second at a time. Because whether it's a happy moment or a sad moment, or a moment that feels like the end of all moments, it will always pass. It always comes to pass. More moments will always happen. And it will be okay.
She turns ONE this week. My pretty baby-love....she's going to be one! And I think that's just reminded me that someday she'll also be 7. And 15. And 24. And someday she might have a stinky friend, or make a silly choice, or get in a lame disagreement with her husband. And I ask myself, am I someone I want her to follow? Am I being a good enough example for her? Am I making the kind of choices I want her to make someday? And the answer is mostly yes.....and a little no.
When I sat down at the computer, I planned on writing more about Idaho....but somehow I ended up here. I guess that's where my restless mind was stuck. I really want Rae to be happy. My heart breaks thinking about her living even a single moment of unhappiness. But I know that happiness comes because of, and in spite of, the unhappiness. And maybe that's a lesson that I needed to remind myself of tonight too...? I don't know. Regardless, I'm feeling a bit tired now. And slightly embarrassed by this post. But I guess that's kind of what got me started here in the first place.
Life isn't perfect.....but that's kind of what makes it perfect.
Does that make sense?
I'm pretty sure it's just really late....:)