I had a job interview this week, for a position I really, really hope I get. It’s ideal for me, for my family, and I feel that I would be great fit for the organization. It all seems to make sense. The interview went well, I built rapport, felt at ease, and gave an authentic representation of myself and my abilities. I left it all on the table. I shook hands, and walked away knowing I’d done my best. So why am I worried? Why am I anxiously checking my phone, my email? I know it’s in God’s hands. I know. And yet, I worry. Worry that if this doesn’t work out, it must mean I’m not good enough. But despite my level of anxiety, it’s nowhere near what it would have been six months …
Stick your head in the sand, and all anyone sees is an…well, you know. (image from thecycleseen.com)
Ostriches do not actually stick their heads in sand when threatened. They run. So why don’t we? Why do we, as intelligent beings, constantly stick our noggins in that proverbial sand? Sure, sometimes we bolt, sometimes we retaliate, but mostly, we hide. Or try to hide, anyways. We dive in, head-first, to whatever self-medication is most appealing. Food. Sex. Hobbies. Booze. Work. Drugs. Slots. Whatever. Anything to help us avoid the life struggles. The pain. The insecurity. We dive in, and pretend the hurt isn’t there. We all have a vice, or several. We all have addictions. All of us. Some “healthy,” some not. But they’re all diversions.
So what does living with head out of sand look like? I’d …
I am SO in love with these sweet sisters. My children. My heart.
There are times when things settle down, when the crying subsides, when the whining takes a break, and I can simply enjoy the presence of my children. We’re entering an “easier” season of parenthood, sure to be followed by a hard one. But I don’t want to worry about that. I just want to enjoy. Things are still crazy, still hectic, still messy, but either it’s getting better, or I’ve just adjusted my outlook and am better able to cope. Either way, it’s a blessing.
Daily, sometimes hourly tantrums have gone to weekly. Constant monitoring has gone to frequent sideways glances (as I hear a bowl of dry Cheerios spill in the next room). Things aren’t easy, but they’re easier. I’m only getting …
I know some dismiss blogging as a “silly hobby” or perhaps a strange obsession, but for me, it’s now a way of life. Not only that, but it’s connected me to some amazing people, who I never would have met otherwise. (Well, I might have, but it’s a long shot.) One particular connection I’ve made is “I Still Hate Pickles” blogger Kirsten, but her friends call her Kiki. 🙂 She lives in Texas, has two little ones, and a baby on the way. She’s funny, feisty and completely down-to-earth. And here’s another thing that drew me to her. She follows Christ but isn’t afraid to show her flaws: “I try to live a transparent and authentic life, which means I screw up all the time but attempt to be honest about that. If …
You know, it’s funny. Twenty years after I hated my brother so much I was willing to smack him in the head with a frying pan (yep, actually did), we’ve come so far in our relationship. I consider him one of my best friends, and he always knows just how to cheer me up, even online. After lamenting on about having to wait over the weekend to hear back on a couple of job interviews I had today, he replied with the sweetest tweet:
My brother’s tweet made my night, and my whole week.
Now I feel really bad about that frying pan incident…