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Our Stories

09/27/2012 - Author: Natasha Phillips

I have found it is hard to write our stories. Stories of our emotions, how we grew up, what maybe changed in our lives and so on. It is hard to admit to mistakes, challenges and distractions we encounter in a path of life. I personally have a hard time facing the failures I have had in my own life. I am not talking about failed dreams or projections on what I thought my life might be when I was younger, I am talking about the failures in everyday life. My emotions get away from me far to often. Of course I try not to yell nor to discourage the adventures of a young boy with their noisy voices, yet I do get very irritated and at times it does happen. Take last night for example.

Matt wanted all of us to play ‘Brain Quest’ with Boyd, which was great, but….I couldn’t get the baby to sleep and he was fussing more than usual. I recently started giving him cereal and I don’t think he is digesting it very well so he was squirmy and wouldn’t settle down. Elliott was just noisy. Everything he did he had to say ‘mom’ first. Everything. Boyd was just unfocused and telling us these long, drawn out stories that don’t really make sense and are hard to follow. At this point my brain is going a hundred different directions and I feel myself getting agitated. So when Matt said he wanted to play a game I came unglued and said, “not until I get the baby to sleep!”. I know it is small but the way I said it was not very nice. Nor was about 30 minutes later when the baby was sleeping, we were playing the game, and Elliott was standing next to me saying, “mom, mom, mom, mom, mom,” (you get the point), and I said: “Elliott, lay down next to your father or go stand in the corner!”. REALLY I mean REALLY. All he wanted to do was to tell me something, yet I let my emotions and lack of patience get in the way.

I think this is pretty normal for mother’s across the board. If it is not, I don’t want to hear about it. 🙂 Really though, I understand that we all have times when our patience runs thin. What I am saying is, that those times are hard to admit. Tonight I watched a film called ‘Sarah’s Key’. I highly recommend it. It is mostly in subtitles as the movie is French I believe, but it was very good. It was about the French/Jewish in 1942 and one family in particular. It tells a little about their story and how it was discovered 60 years later. One of the scenes in the movie though is simply heart wrenching as the mother’s are being torn, literally, away from their younger children and carted off to a concentration camp. It made me want to go hug my children and just hang on to them for dear life. How blessed I am to hear ‘mom’ 165 times during the day. (actually it wouldn’t surprise me if that number was waaaay higher). I can’t imagine the pain and anguish those mother’s were feeling.

I want to be better about telling my story. The stories of my life so my kids know me. I don’t want them to just know my frustrations but I want them to know the pride I feel for them also. I want them to know that even though I have a short fuse at times, it doesn’t mean I love them any less or am not proud of them. I also want them to know my stories. The stories of everyday life that makes us, us. I love my kids and am so proud of them.

I pray I never let go of them, who they are, their wishes and dreams, their emotions and failures, and I pray that I encourage them to pursue the paths they want to take and that I always have time to hear their stories that seem senseless but are oh-so-important to them. I pray that I am a mother that shows love everyday and not frustration.

 

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