So I'm actually seeing now that motherhood has been and is an incredible gift in so many ways. The perfect gift, sometimes wrapped in really ugly paper, but lovely and amazing on the inside when you turn it around and look at it from a new angle.
It is exhausting, frustrating, exasperating, chaotic humdrum. But somewhere in the humdrum is a little spark of magic or a little whisp of loveliness. And you see it occasionally hiding within and beneath and beyond.
And when you look directly at it, it shimmers and shines and whispers, "And this is love."
Life is perfect, you see. But perfection is not what we imagine it to be. It is not every experience a “good” experience. It is not everyone always happy. Perfection is not all rainbows, all sunshine, all perfectly ripe fruit, always clean, always cheerful.
Perfection is WHOLENESS. It is all things working in unison. It is all parts, all pieces, all aspects of life working together in a balanced and complete way. Perfection is a FULNESS of life. Without the rain, there aren’t rainbows. Without green bananas sometimes, we can’t appreciate the perfectly deliciously sweet ripe ones. We need these experiences to understand that ALL of life is precious.
And so, at this time of year, I look around and appreciate it all.
I have found the important thing for me to remember is that I AM aware of ALL of this. And that awareness lessens the sting. It takes away some of the hardness and allows me to step back and see this situation for what it is … a mental disorder that he cannot help he has. He isn't doing this on purpose. He isn't TRYING to pitch a fit each morning to make the day start crappy. He is held hostage by this as much as I feel like I am.