Acceptance

It occurred to me this morning, as I was in my own head digging away at all of my faults, that as much as I preach to my kids about accepting others that may be different from them, I haven’t taught them the importance of being accepting of who they are.  I certainly still struggle with accepting who I am, simply because I am not the woman who I pictured in my head when I was growing up.  I honestly do not have my “stuff” together half of the time.

I do not have a spotless home, I have a very lived in home that is occupied by 3 curious home-schooled boys, 1 DIY husband, 1 dog, 1 cat, and currently 1 rescued bird.  I need to accept that my home is a reflection of the love that happens here and not a reflection of the organized homes I drool over in magazines.

I am not a “put-together” Mom/wife that looks great every time she walks out the door.  I am the Mom who is most comfortable in her yoga pants or running gear (note to self: find your running mojo again, the clothes have a purpose and are not a fashion statement) with her hair piled on top of her head.  That’s not the Mom that I had envisioned in my head when the title of “Mom” was bestowed upon me almost 13 years ago.  However, instead of being that always with the current fashion trend Mom in the awesome boots, skinny jeans and gorgeous sweaters/jackets/shirts/etc, my boys know that I will, in a moment’s notice, jump rope with them on the driveway, throw them in the van and head for a favorite hiking trail complete with a stream to trudge through, throw the football or frisbee with them, or sneak up behind them for a game of tag.  I think they will remember that much more than they would remember a Mom who can’t get down and dirty with them.

While I count my blessings everyday, I can’t help but turn to my “fault lines” and pick away at them.  I have found that when I do this I become less and less of accepting of who I am and where my life is.  Those” fault lines” become bigger and I shatter inside.  Sometimes, a good long cry helps center me again and I rebuild as a stronger version of myself that is ready to accept what is and embrace it to the full extent that I am able. Sometimes, it’s a good friend and a cup of coffee or a glass of wine that helps bring me back together.  Still other times it is a long, solitary run that will renew me. More than anything, at this point in my life, I need to learn acceptance of who I am and who my family needs me to be (lucky for me, these are the same right now!). It may not be what I pictured as being my perfect life, but it is perfect for me; chaos and all.

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