I’m not sure of the exact date, but sometime around the end of January last year, I started this blog. Yes, friends, my space is officially 1 year old. And so here I am, writing the customary "My baby is one year old today and I’m examining myself" entries. Bear with me.
Thanks for all you guys that read and encourage, even if you don’t always get it, whether I’ve met you in real life or not.
If you’ve been reading, you might be aware that I began writing merely to keep from going crazy during long winter storms and lonely nights while Caleb was out of town. The dogs, puppies then, drove me bonkers and Mia kept me hopping. Oklahoma was still sort of new and I was…well, a little unhappy. In that respect, things have changed. I’m pretty comfortable with the way life is, for the most part. The dogs are older, calmer. Mia is still pretty active, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. And I’ve gotten a little more used to Caleb’s hectic work schedule.
In some ways I don’t feel as though I’ve changed much and that bothers me. I still let my emotions get the best of me; I still pop off at the mouth and say just about whatever’s on my mind, to anyone who will listen. I hate that about me. Where’s my self control? Did I ever have any to begin with? It’s almost as if this is a sort of New Year’s all over again for me–what about myself have I improved upon?
Unfortunately, I can’t think of much in that department. I could be sick. I just threw up in my mouth a little.
I’d like to be more outgoing; I’d like to be more giving. I’d like to be more motivated; I know I could be a better mom. I refuse to let myself to through another period of depression. This year is going to be different; it’s going to be better.
For my husband: I don’t think I’ve been fair to you. There’s a lot of burden placed on your shoulders and I haven’t bothered to lend a sympathetic ear most of the time, much less offer to help you carry it. I don’t think you’ve been able to grow as a person the way I know you can; and I fear it’s all my fault. I’ve relied on you for so much, and I’m the one that’s kept us in situations we keep meaning to stay out of. I still can’t even manage to pack you a cooler full of Dr. Pepper despite my anniversary promise. I just want to say I’m sorry, and please don’t give up on me.
For my children: I’m not the most caring, giving person that I’ve always wanted to be as a role model; I have a hard time leading by example, and that’s terrible. It’s hard admitting that just because I’m a "grown-up" doesn’t mean I always know best; or at least it doesn’t mean I always do what’s best. I’m hard on you; but I forget that the standards we hold up for you are the same standards I myself should live by.
On the upside of things, I’ve found another outlet. I’ve (maybe?) been a little better at not always venting at Caleb as soon as he walks in the door, and I’ve kept in touch with my friends and family members.
I’m not a bad person–there are, believe it or not after reading this, things that I do like about myself. But it we’re talking about personal growth, then I’ve got along way to go. But then again, don’t we all?