Giraffe on the ceiling.

I remember reading a book in about 5th grade about a girl who was completely herself much to the disdain of her peers and parents. She was eccentric and artistic. I remember thinking that I wished to have the courage to be myself. I didn't find anything close to her courage until late into my high school years, and even then, I often hid my artistic expression from others. I still feel like I don't know how to fully express myself. I once told a counselor that I wished I could paint my walls in rainbow and hang a giraffe from the ceiling, but eccentricism just isn't accepted, or at least I don't feel it is. I get sick of my cookie cutter home, haircut and life.

Sunday at the Barnes.

I've been reading Radical Acceptance: Embracing your life with the heart of a Buddha (Tara Brach, Ph.D) for years. Ever since I started back at the local university, I haven't had a ton of time to read and most recently I have been reading fiction for my book club. But I do still periodically pick up Radical Acceptance and read a chapter. I am half way through. Today I read about being "enough" which is a current theme in my life. Am I enough? I wear so many hats. I am the daughter, the student, the mother, the wife, the friend, the daycare lady, and the business owner, just to name a few. But am I enough? I am not enough in my marriage, that is obvious. I feel that recently I am not enough as a mother because my kids are all going through rough stages, refusing to listen or follow instructions. I feel that I am not enough as a daycare provider because parents are challenging me because kids have been sick and we don't do enough crafts. I have been challenged as a business owner because I have recently been told I charge too much for daycare and parents want to switch (economy?). I am not enough as a student because I am getting at least one B if not three this semester. I am just plain not enough. And I have nothing left in me to strive right now. I am accepting with radical acceptance that I just don't have the capacity to be enough.

With that said, I have some plans that I want to incorporate as a business owner and daycare lady. My recent class was Parent Involvement in Early Childhood Education. Well, I am an early childhood educator as a daycare provider, even if I don't make loads of money, or respect, or have a degree in that field. So I am going to incorporate more parent involvement techniques. Over break (before Jan. 11 when the new semester begins) I plan to put together a parent resource library, put together 12 newsletters for the following year, and send out invitations for parents to come observe or participate in our daily activities. What I have found interesting is that it is the parents that never come to my daycare, and rarely pick up or drop off their kids, that complain the most about my rates and my daycare. Logically one would think that you would refrain from complaining about someone you never see or talk to, but, our culture allows it.

So, is it wrong that I am still striving to be "enough" or is that human nature? In my heart and head I honestly believe that I am doing a great job in all areas. I am a good wife, a good mother, a good daycare lady, a good business owner, a good friend and a good daughter. But maybe my vision is blurred. So, back to the book. Maybe I'll finish it over break (along with all four books for book club!).

Snow day!

What an absolutely wonderful, beautiful day! Shane and I connected on a level that I haven't felt in a long time. We slept in this morning. After we got up all of us, including Millie (our dog) and the kids, went out to shovel the drive. It felt so great with all of us working together as a team. Then we all gathered upstairs, drank hot chocolate and coffee and just relaxed. Later, we all worked together to clean and pick up the house. Then Shane and I worked together on projects in the den. At the end of the night we all cuddled up to watch a movie. It was the perfect day. Everything is working out. Why did I ever doubt.

Failure.

If this marriage fails, my first and only, I will never get married again. I will be the old single white woman in her little house with her dogs (not cats or birds). I'll have a drawer full of vibrators, each with its own cutesie name and I will please myself. Never again will a let a man hurt me like this.

Raw.

Raw. Raw. Raw. Raw. Raw.

Real. Real. Real. Real. Real.

It feels so raw, but I refuse to hold back and not keep it real.

Shane and I started counseling again for the third time in our almost nine years of marriage.

There is a woman... well girl actually... into whose face I want to scream "Home wrecker". ...Although I know it isn't her fault.

I am not innocent either. Three years ago my own actions brought us into counseling, and Shane perhaps felt the same urge that I do.

I love him so completely. He is everything I want. I can't live without him.

But can I live with him?