on keeping it together.

[First things first: Oh hey, friends. After yet another blogging hiatus, the crazy lady is back at it again. At least for now. Oh, and another thing: This photo has absolutely nothing to do with this post. What can I say? It's just ridiculously cute.]

If there's one thing I've learned from being a parent, it's that you're always learning something from being a parent. The lessons, it seems, are completely relentless, coming at you fast and furious whether you're ready or not. Honestly, it's challenging to keep track of all the little tricks, triggers and quirks that are revealed to you by your children on a daily basis — and that's on a good day. On a particularly tough or trying day, it can be downright impossible to recognize these moments as they're happening, keep a level head and take note of how to handle the same issue in the future. (And trust: that same issue will come up over ... and over ... and over again in the future.)

But then there are the lessons that, no matter how hectic ... or overwhelming ... or just plain hard of a day you're having, just can't seem to slip by unnoticed. The lessons that bore down into your brain whether you're ready to wrap your head around them at that moment or not. Which brings me to this:

Last Sunday, friends, I lost my engagement ring.

(Big, heart-breaking, guilt-ridden gulp.)

Now I know this isn't exactly shocking news coming from a self-proclaimed scatter-brained crazy person who lives with a red headed human tornado and his newly mobile partner in crime. But, despite the "F#%*! I just knew this was going to happen!" circumstances that surrounded this unfortunate event, it was still devastating. Disappointing. Nauseating. Completely all-consuming. And, after a full day of ignoring those feelings and searching through the toys ... and the rugs ... and the trash ... and the diapers (yes, diapers) like a mad woman, the disappointment of it all just kind of came rushing over me. And I cried. Like, collapse-on-the-couch, pull-your-shirt-over-your-face, feel-completely-sorry-for-yourself ugly cried.

But then, in the middle of my colossal meltdown, I snapped out of it for just long enough to catch a glimpse of Sam out of the corner of my eye. There he was, tucked behind one of our end tables, peering out at me with alligator tears in his big blue eyes. And at that moment, I realized something kind of major: When you're two years old (or thirty years old, in my case), seeing your mom cry makes you cry, too. And no one wants that.

And there was that lesson, like a big smack on the head: When it comes to your kids, keep calm and carry on, Sara. Just keep calm and carry on.

Earth-shattering news? Not exactly. And I'm sure there are some people out there that would say that it's psychologically healthy to expose your children to different emotions — happy, hard or anywhere in between. But not me. Not my babies. No way. No how.

And you know what? After I picked my hot mess of a self up off the sofa, put a smile back on my face, scooped Sam up on to my lap and silently vowed to just relax and stop worrying about it for a while (or at least trying to not worry about it), wouldn't you know that blasted ring showed up at midnight, right smack in the middle the shag rug in my living room? Upon finding it, sure, I shared a few Tiger Woods-style fists pumps with my husband. And I kind of collapsed on the floor in sheer relief. And yes, I may have shed a few tears. But then I got on with it. 

Kept calm. 

Carried on. 

Yet another lesson learned.


Janet Scott said...

And it makes your mother cry to think of Sam crying because you're crying! Is hot messiness a gene pool phenomena? I wonder. You might want to brace yourself and your kids for the days when you "turn on the tears" because they've done something that makes you really proud or happy. No real good way to explain that to a 5 year-old. Whatevs.

Glad you're back in the blogosphere and even gladder that you found the ring. xo

The Gearys said...

Girl, you pull at my heart strings with every post. You were made to write!
So glad you found the ring:-)