I am bad at following through. When I ask myself why I am this way, the whole “nature vs nurture” debate plays out. As a kid my parents were great about getting me into activities, for one year. Dance class, piano lessons, plans to change the course of my life all occurred in the span of a year.
These days plans to change my outcome or improve myself take a great deal of determination. I never really learned to follow through. I have learned to feed the leering instant gratification monster. I can handle small life changing decisions like banning fruity pebbles (I clean the bowl but they are never really gone), limiting the verses of SpongeBob sung in the van, or how many times I will ignore the growing noise downstairs. The life altering decisions require effort but are usually worth the work.
This month I have decided to start over and make some small positive changes. Probably for the 142nd time. I have come to embrace my flaw. I make plans and often don’t notice how I have once again failed to integrate the difference until I am deep in my familiar loop. So I allow myself to keep starting over. Most people wait to start fresh until the first of the year. What good is a resolution without a year of failure preceding? Others wait for Monday. A new start may as well wait for a new week, right? I just keep trying. I keep trying to make those small improvements once a month, a week or even several times a day if needed. It doesn’t always work.
Failure is necessary. We must fail for growth. We must fail so we can understand ourselves and embrace our flaws. We must also admit our imperfection. Sometimes failure is a hard thing to recognize. I am a mother of four. There is a large supply of people to point out my mistakes. And that’s okay. Keeping on track takes work and it takes support. In the end, fighting to keep a desire for positive change yields the most results.
I will continue to make the simple choices my kids can’t seem to live with: limiting screen time, finishing homework, or making sure they try everything once. I know I will fail to teach them something but I don’t want them to fail to try again.
As for me, I try to remind myself that I am worth the effort. The monotony of motherhood sometimes leads to a void of self-worth. Beauty is usually hiding behind a shirt used as a tissue, jeans speckled with cheerios and hair arranged in a fashion slightly resembling a pony tail. And the phrase “take time for yourself” is joke-worthy. I am on an uphill journey well worth the experience. My follow through could happen on a Thursday afternoon and that could change my life.
choices
Ignoring a Five Year Plan
Next year marks my ten year wedding anniversary. This is significant for a number of reasons. For the significance of this post, it means my husband and I have been together for a couple rounds of “where do you think we will be in five years.”
This used to be such an entertaining game. Even before he and I met, a sported round of this game was always worth a spin. Here is how the three previous rounds have summed up since I was somehow declared an adult.
Round one took some casualties. I lost friendships and a marriage but I gained the confidence to live on my own and try to start asking what I wanted with the next five years.
Five years later and I was remarried. I had two children. We were both employed and happy. It was also in this five years we found out one of our children had a rare and incurable disease. Five years down the road began to look more bleak.
Sadly my husband and I no longer question where we will be in five years. My life is very different than I could have imagined and it demands that I live for today. Planning tomorrow ended years ago in a hospital room when we realized how quickly today can change tomorrow.
Five years from now is scarier than it used to be. The older I get, the less I would want to know. In everything there is joy but only with a share of heartbreak. I think I can wait for it all.
Today I will start a new game called, “making today’s decision at the crossroad count.”
*d*
Five Year Plan
When we graduated high school and were making plans about where we were going to be in five years, I don’t believe any of us really had a clue. I know I didn’t. I certainly wouldn’t have predicted that I’d be living with a cheating drug abuser, finishing up my last year of college and my English degree, and working four small part-time jobs just to be able to afford Dollar Menu dinners every night. Nor would I have been able to foretell the five years after that that included my druggie boyfriend leaving me for my cousin, me re-living my early 20’s out on the dance floor of the local dive bar, and numerous gentlemen floating through my life. None of that is what I imagined. The last five years has been a surprise too. The pleasant kind. I met my husband, finished writing a novel I started in 2005, and quit my job to—well, mostly I quit because it was awful. Also, I wanted to finish my book. I had intentions of getting a job once the novel was done, but finishing it made me want to be a part of the writing community. It made me want to see if I could make money doing what I loved instead of barely being paid to do what I hated. Even though I’ve found that it’s a long way from the last keystroke on your manuscript to the first paycheck, I’m excited to have come this far. This whole experience has pushed me to make choices about who I am, what I want, and where I’m going.
It’s a scary thing to be 33 and not have a clue where your life is headed—to be staring down the barrel of Life, pointed right in your face. Every day I feel inadequate and incapable and dare I say, like a failure. I wonder where I go from here. What’s next for me? Where will I be in five years? The only thing to do is to make a choice and pursue it like my life depends on it. I have to accept that just because I stumble, it doesn’t mean I’ve chosen the wrong path. There are bumps in every road.
~L~
CrossRoadTrippers 