I am about to be 40 and, I’ll admit, I’m going into it with a little more anxiety than I hoped I would.
Since I had Wee One, Santa has been a problem. By which I mean, should I tell her he exists? Am I lying to her? Am I fooling her? My large concern is if I am hurting her, of course, and I’ve struggled to find a way to share this with her without hurting her.
I’ve asked folks what they have done and how they see it, and surprisingly, have gotten some ugly comments, defensive and sometimes insulting. People are really defensive about Santa.
If we were having coffee, I wouldn’t be around for very long, and I wouldn’t be drinking coffee. I would be drinking tea and some sports drink to replenish some fluids I lost last week. I have had the stomach flu all last week, and now I feel like I’m coming down with something respiratory. I couldn’t even do my Top Ten Tuesday, I felt so icky! You groan in commiseration, because its no fun to be sick. I was also really homesick during that time, more than I usually am. I was hurting and didn’t know what was happening, and I wanted my mom to tell me I was okay. I know both my mom and mother in law wished they could be here to help, which is sweet.
This article, “A Screwtape Letter For The Unappreciated Mom,” is one of the best things I’ve read in a long time. It almost seems like Jack wrote it, because it’s so well in keeping with the style of the book.
Some of the better, more convicting (right now) passages for me include:
“A tired Mom makes for a more emotional Mom, and an emotional Mom is a vulnerable one.” Today has been a difficult day. Just one of those challenging ones when my faults seem to stand out and anxious thoughts and self-doubts snowball.
“We must convince her that her husband is no longer the friend and ally she first married. Instead, we must reveal every sin and selfish habit, especially drawing attention to his thoughtless actions (mal-intended or not) against her.” And, unfortunately, I took it out of him today. 😦
“Secondly, do what you can to keep her focused on her troubles and pains.” I am ashamed to think about some of the self-centered comments I’ve made to Cohiba that sound once he plays them back to me!
“Along those lines, be sure the Mother starts to value productivity above everything else.” My house… Looks like the house with a baby in it.
Today was just a hard day.
Tomorrow will be better.
It begins and ends with love.
When I first learned I was pregnant, I was lost; overwhelmed by swirling thoughts of anxiety and fear. I sought insight from dear friends and internet strangers, and one idea from these searches struck me: No matter the fear or anxiety or dread I felt, this Wee One was created by the stong and beautiful love I am lucky enough to share with Cohiba.
For this Thanksgiving day in the U.S., I take the time to thank someone I’ve never met, someone without whom nothing of the past 17 years would have been possible.
Dear Angel –
That’s your name, right? That was the name you had in the police report, according to the young officer who spoke with my mother.