Written as part of a community of bloggers who gather at Lisa Jo's blog on Fridays to write with abandon for five minutes. Only steadfast rule is you have to go visit your "link-up" neighbor and leave them a pleasant note. When the anger and hate and drama of the internet gets me down, this is a place of comfort and encouragement! Come join us!
Do my actions make the truth clear?
Does the tone of my voice, as well as the words, speak the truth that I want my girls to know?
Or is the truth lost in the muddle of frustration, anxiety, and exhaustion?
I never wanted to say "you're driving me crazy" to my kids. But I did. And when I plopped them in their beds and came back out and sank into the couch, I wanted to take it back. Because while it's true, it's only a tiny piece of truth.
What is so much bigger is my love for them. How, even on the craziest days, this is what I dreamed of as a little girl. How I wouldn't trade my time with them for all the pillowtop mattresses and microfiber sofas and solid wood end tables in the world.
What truth do they hear? My oldest is having a major hearing test done next week, a kind that requires sedation. So she may not even hear all my words. What she does "hear," are my facial expressions. My grip on her arm that conveys "you're in trouble young lady." My "why are you up?" expression instead of the "I'm so glad you're here" that I want her to see.
How much of the truth do they see in me, and how much is just clutter?