Do you ever feel like the universe sometimes is whispering something to you? Ok yeah me neither but didn't that sound kind of cool? I bet you were thinking, "Wow, Lily is all in touch with stuff and deep and spiritual. Maybe she even does yoga." I don't. Unless of course you count the under appreciated mommy praying mantis yoga maneuver. You know, the one where you have to buckle two kids into car seats, and then, someone drops something under a seat that they have to have RIGHT NOW so you have to stand on one leg and sort of slither around the backseat with your left arm in the front seat and your right arm in the trunk of the car. "Now lift! And bend! And hyper extend!" Mommy yoga.
What I mean to say is that sometimes the same crap keeps happening over and over again in our lives and then in a complete stroke of genius you figure out WHY it keeps happening and suddenly your whole world makes sense again? Something almost clicks into place because you realize you keep re-enacting the same exact pattern over and over again but missing the life lesson. I like to think that from a spiritual perspective these lessons are vital to our very humanity. It's sort of like solving a really hard riddle. Never mind I stink at riddles. Seriously has anyone, anywhere in time, ever, successfully solved a riddle without cheating?
I just had my annual life lesson. My life lesson for the last two years has been identical. Did I learn from last years trials and tribulations? I am sure I did but clearly not enough because the universe needed me to get something...and fast! Last year while 7 months pregnant with Wes I was put on full bed rest. I can still remember the doctor telling me I wasn't going to like what she had to say. I can remember the snap of her gloves as she told me I was going to be in bed until I delivered Wes. It was a horrible feeling. I wasn't in control. I don't do well when I am not in control. Brian was still at Quantico training, Jack was just 2 and his height prevented him from being able to drive himself to and from daycare. Well that and the minor detail of his age, and well, I suppose, his general skill level behind the wheel. I had to rely on my family for everything. I had to surrender complete control. There were no other options if I wanted to do what I could to deliver a healthy baby. So I surrendered. I learned a lot. I learned that you can do a lot from your couch. I learned that the world doesn't fall apart when things don't go as planned. Perhaps more importantly I learned I am not really ever in control. I surrendered and realized that no man is an island. We all need help.
Last week I clearly needed a reminder. After a horrible 11 month appointment for Wes, after a terrible and awful reaction to his shots from said horrible appointment, and after what felt like the 900th day in a row of no sleep I kind of lost it. I surrendered to an overwhelming sadness and let myself cry. I let myself cry longer and harder than I had in many many months. And then I went to Trader Joes. You can find almost everything there. I realized the depth of my problem when I told a clerk I hadn't slept in 45 years which was a problem since I was only 30. I had become one of those bleary eyed mothers you see in Target as they sort of shuffle around the store, desperately trying to gather their wits and remember their shopping list while hisspering (hisspering=whispering but scary) vague threats at their children. "Oh yeah don't touch that thing or it will explode or something." They wear sweatpants and mismatched socks. Hobo moms. I had joined the hobo elite. I went home and for about the 50th time I declared I couldn't live through one more night of waking up every 45 minutes. Sure the other hobo moms are pretty cool to hang out with and all but I just didn't want to be a card carrying member and all.
The difference this time was that I completely surrendered and dropped the reigns. I handed them over fully and completely into the competent and caring hands of my husband. Poor man had been begging me to let him sort Wes and his sleep out for months, but, like the stoic and pig headed mother I can be at times, I wouldn't accept help because I didn't think it would work. I backed myself into a corner and convinced myself that I was the only one who could fix it. That was until I surrendered. Note to self: Surrender and accept help OR join pack of wild hobo moms.