Gratitude

So yesterday, I spent a couple grueling hours in front of my laptop, spilling out some of the things I've recognized in my own character.  Of course, those two hours weren't continual, but rather peppered with interruptions from a {perpetually} naked toddler, a doorbell denoting a delivery, and a five year old who somehow forgot how to pretty much do anything for herself during the time frame I had specifically denoted for 'me'.  Read: I was leaving my parenting skills up to the *capable* hands of Ariel, who teaches the ever-empowering degrading message that if a woman drastically transforms her body, she will get the guy...and all it will cost her is her voice.  Nice move, 'okayish mom'.  (Thankfully, the girls seemed more entranced by the mind-numbing songs and the fact that Flounder narrowly escaped a shark to pick up on the not-so-subtle machismo that is the world of the Disney Princesses.  At least I hope.)

So, anyhow, I wrote these 'truths' as I called them, baring the nit and grit of what it is that I recognize in myself.  I didn't use the word 'flaws', but 'truths'.  I chose that word because it has much more power behind it, and what I've found is that I want to empower.  Moms, women, men, kids, myself.  I don't claim to have the super powers with which to accomplish this task, but I do have an amazing (yet small) set of people who take time away from their precious and busy lives to read what it is that I have rambled on about on any given day.  These friends provide me with a secondary purpose for blogging.  For me, writing is a personal and purposeful way in which I can connect with my own self and capture snapshots of the life I(we) have been carving out for myself(ourselves).  I chose to take it to a public forum a few years ago because of the nature of the life we lived.  We were two thousand miles from any {technical} family as well as in the same state as many friends who became like family, and for whatever reason, I found that that audience of people liked {or pretended really, really well} to hear read my stories.  When I post, I receive little messages of empathy, encouragement, or just a fun little 'smile' note, that lets me know my words have brought on some sort of enjoyment in the life of another.  It's always nice to know that people actually enjoy the long-winded tales that spawn from an otherwise seemingly 'white bread' life.  I appreciate the messages.  A lot.  And lets be honest.  Who doesn't love a little 'shout out' every now and then?!

But remember, my primary purpose for writing isn't all of you who are reading (unless you're my kids, and you're reading these words after I've left this Earth.  Then yes, this.is.all.for.you.  You will know your mom pretty well through here--at least I hope).  I'm writing for me; veritably for Gavin, Brynn, Raegan, and me.  Everyone else is my safety net because you make me feel like all of this is okay to say out loud.  Even if I know it's okay, I feel safer because I have a group of people who are even the slightest bit interested in the {confuzzled} innerworkings of my head, or the mass-hysteria that can become a household with three young children (or, you're nosy.  In which case, you probably will figure out pretty quickly that unless you like reading long posts filled with randomness and sarcastic asides, you might be better off placing your curiosities elsewhere).  My friends who read religiously, occasionally, or just even once based on recommendation from a friend or a catchy tagline I attached to the link when I shared it via Facebook provide me with my secondary purpose for keeping up with this blog.

Connections.  I am so, so uncomfortable in this space of being uplifted and re-rooted in a new state, new {yet-to-exist} circle of friends, new 'career', and new{ish} decade of my life.  I am not unhappy, just unsettled.  'Starting over' isn't new to me, after all, Colorado was a land of new and uncertain adventures in the summer of 2005.  But something's different about this time.

Established roots, a level of comfort, and a interwoven web of friends/colleagues/students/families provided a firm ground on which to stand and grow and raise our family in the town just north of Denver.  Our move didn't remove that firm ground, but jolted it in such a way that our piece of land broke off and journeyed 1,000 miles southwest.  Everyone is still okay, but the connections are more strained, distanced, and challenging to uphold.  The same held true when we headed west in our U-Haul from PA, newly married and ready for adventure.  Connections are extended, stretched in a way that makes me beyond grateful for technology (you know, the kind I'm uber-addicted to).  This forum, this blog, allows me to feel connected to parts of the world which I was once an active and efficacious member of.

This group of people who've showed me empathy and support, sending genuine and kindhearted words of encouragement and love, virtually hugging from across many miles, and continuing to find their way back to my little blog...I am grateful for you.  Your support, whether vocal or not, has bolstered my insecurities about exposing my heart and welcoming you into my little niche of the world.  Even if you're just a small group {for now}.  My heart wants to reach further, share more, connect deeper.  If it is meant to be this, a small group of people with whom I've crossed paths in one way or another; that's fine.  My heart is humbled by and content with that.  But if it spans further, if I connect with those whom I've yet to meet or might never meet, it would mean growing my heart even larger, appreciation even deeper, and love even wider-spreading than the pipelines I have running from Texas to where ever you are.

To say 'thank you' might seem a bit empty after #12 on yesterday's post.  But I mean it, genuinely and wholeheartedly.  Thank you.

"As we utter our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them."  

~John F. Kennedy