the post i really wanted to write but didn't. until now.

the post that talks about

how hard it is to have her home.

even though it is so wonderful and right

it is still so hard.

even though her laughter fills up the dark corners of the halls

it is still so hard.

the post that has words that speak

of struggle and heartbreak

 and disappointment.

not at her. but at me.

it is important to make that clear.

i have

impossible standards of myself.

i know this to be true

yet i can't seem to change them.

(not yet anyways. i am trying)

i am

in this stage of life

as mother to teenage girl

and

am unable to

 apply and use the skills and talents

and gifts and wisdom that i possess and have often

practiced and shared.

this is frustrating and scary and oh so disappointing to me.

it is harder than i ever thought possible.

i may very well be the worst mother

to teenage girl ever.

now, i logically know that this is not true.

this is not true

(but it feels true)

there is no yelling. there are no threats.

there are reasonable expectations and consequences.

there is grace and forgiveness and affection.

there are times of communication

  of laughter and joy.

we finish each others sentences and pick up the same items in stores

without reilizing the other is holding and wanting it.

but

i want our lives to be how they were before.

that is truly what i am grieving for

and i can't have that

i don't even

in the big picture want that.

but oh how i miss the old days..

and they are so close still that i remember

them so fondly

and i can't yet see past this spot we are in.

this hard and mucky and painful spot.

and that not seeing, not having forward vision

prevents me from moving on

with hope and optimism.

i feel stuck.

wanting the curly haired girl and i to be as we were

but knowing that we can't.

i feel stuck

relinquishing my hopes and dreams so that she

can find her own.

i feel stuck.

stuck in an age that is not personal, not about me and not long lasting

but oh it feels like all those things.

it really, truly does.

again,

this is not her fault.

it is not my fault.

it is what it is.

and it comes with great sorrow and great uncertainty

and a battle cry to live in the moment,

take it one day, one segment of time,

really seeing and being and seeking

and letting go.

constantly letting go.

i feel raw. vulnerable. split wide open

cut in half so to speak.

and i know she feels it too.

i know that we both love with a fierce love

and this is a painful process we are walking through.

i can't wait to be done.

you have no idea

(or maybe you do)

how i want to be done with these hard hard years.

yea,

so that is the post i really wanted to write these past few days but didn't

after all it's Christmas and such

but this is my life.

this is life.

messy and split wide open

 regardless of the season.