Awoke early this morning — my mind an abundance of thoughts. The sun has-yet to show its face as I sit here and try to find my words. Still…nothing. Laying in bed this morning, I had so many things to say; if only I could record what I am thinking right when it strikes. But, my dreams remain elusive to the writing I attempt this cold, crisp…late December day.
I have been thinking a lot about my older children: the one’s who are now grown in years, but still so young in mentality; the one’s who are still not talking to me, mostly…I suspect, because they feel guilty for writing such harsh things about me on Facebook and disrespecting me worse than I ever imagined they could…or would. My heart was shattered that day; the day I had no choice but to block my own kids from my social page. I still can’t believe it wasn’t all a terrible nightmare.
But…it is only another day in my life…with my adult kids constantly blaming me for anything…everything that has ever gone wrong for them. Will it ever end? I wonder…
I pray that my youngest–still in her toddler years–will have a milder temperament when it comes to forgiveness, understanding, loving another unconditionally. I suspect, because she is partially of a different genetic pool, that she will not be so difficult as my other two have always been. There has been no break from drama for the past 10 to 15 years. Never a dull moment with those two. I miss when they were young and still so innocent and sweet. I worry where I went wrong; hoping I won’t make the same mistakes with Baby.
Being a mom is the single-most difficult, scary, frustrating, heartbreaking, rewarding, priceless job a woman can do in her lifetime. Being a dad is equally the same for dedicated fathers who stand by their wife (or ex-wife…be-it-so) through it all.
I commend those parents who seem to have it down to a science; the ones who have reared their children so well. I look up to them…and envy them, all at once.
The only thing I have left to do these days…so it seems, is pray.