The curse of being young is that you don’t know what you don’t know. There’s no way you could. The curse of age is that you now know what you didn’t know but have no way of going back. Maybe there is something about maturity that teaches you when it’s time to let go of those regrets you can do nothing about. Today as I type, the changes are circling my life. Some things are speeding up, like the growth and activity of my children, and other things are winding down, like my use of a stroller or teaching the ABCs. My oldest is going to be 12 in a month and my baby isn’t a baby at all at 5 years old, learning to read. My marriage is 16 years old and still we’re learning how to show up and be better together than we have in the past. I’ve spent several years reviewing homeschool curriculum but that is changing in the near future. We have been active in our co-op for a few years but this year it has increased drastically. All three kids are in our local homeschool choir and 2 of them get the chance to be part of a state honor choir this year. Mr. Butler and I had the unique chance to sing in choir together in college and it is one of our favorite memories together. Our kids getting the chance to experience a taste of that and loving it makes me a bit weepy, I’ll admit. Learning about ADHD a few years ago and now having the ability to recognize what system is failing and why in order to remedy meltdowns and outbursts is a little surreal. So much is changing while there’s so much I wish I could go back and do differently.

There was a time when I longed to be married, to have children, to be an accepted adult. Oh, how I wish I could talk to that girl and reassure her of a few things and teach her many more. There are relationships that I had that I wish I would have nurtured differently. There are opportunities that I wish I hadn’t been so afraid of. There are choices that I wish I had responded differently to. That regret has eaten me up at times, especially when I worry that my choice might have neglected someone. I have worried about or felt responsible for many a foolish choice by people I love. They were never my responsibility, but my heart has resisted accepting that. So, as the leaves are changing and the weather is cooling off, my spidey sense knows things are changing elsewhere too. One of those big changes is a choice I’ve delayed in making for far too long. Those regrets, those missed chances or balls dropped, I am going to let them go. The foolishness of youth can’t be deleted in the scheduled future. There are only the wise priorities of maturity and age that matter today. When my daughter was 2, I fought with her a lot on taking naps. She would throw fits and I would get so worn out and stressed. I should have just laid down with her to help her sleep. I regret all the stress that I experienced and caused because I didn’t understand what was going on with either one of us. I feel responsible for that stage in her life that could have gone better. It is tempting to lean in to the misery of regret. I should have done so much better, but I can’t do ANYTHING about it now. But I can take joy in how often that same girl wants to sit next to me or hold my hand as we walk. I can be forever grateful that I now understand how important it is for her to stay home sometimes or not go too long without eating. She and I don’t do big roller coasters. She takes comfort in knowing that she can decline any ride she wants because I will always stay with her and then ride milder ones with her. I need to let go of the inflamed part of our relationship from a few years ago and cling to the beautiful one still unfolding in front of me.

There are relationships that I’ve been waiting on to turn around and fill my needs too. There are boundaries that I’ve hoped others would respect without much of a word from me. There are responsibilities that were never mine to begin with that I’ve carried far too long. It’s time to embrace and appreciate what is instead of living in agony over what isn’t. Change is never easy but sometimes you are given gifts that help you know it’s time. My mama heart for having more kids was convicted otherwise after my 3rd pregnancy and all of its challenges. The perpetual pain of rejection can push you into moving on eventually. There just comes a time when you realize there’s no use in wasting anymore time on the things that aren’t serving you or other people. I’m thankful that I’m finally turning that corner.

Due to all the changes in my life, my personal writing has taken a back seat and I’ve only taken time to focus on reviews lately. As things are shifting even more, I hope to spend more time using this platform for personal writing purposes. I miss it. I need it. It’s where I really started anyway and I’m ready to go back there. Writing about what happened helps you process and learn from what happened. It’s a truth that I’ve gotten away from in the name of busy-ness but I’m learning I need to get back there to keep it all together. Here’s to change…

Let’s Make Some New Magic

Have you ever met up with an old friend you haven’t seen in years and it’s a little awkward because you’re a completely different person than you were back then? Sometimes I feel that way when I write. I remember the season when I truly discovered my relationship with writing and how amazing it was. It was around the same time that my future husband and I became such good friends. There was a lot of magic flying around then. Now, 16 years later, I really want that magic back.

Thankfully, I’m not talking about my marriage! We’re far from perfect, but I wouldn’t want us to go back to those foolish kids for anything! My relationship with writing, though, really needs a revival. It’s not exactly about the words being written or how my skills are being exercised. It’s my heart that’s the problem. As a 20-something living largely on my own and dreaming of the future, my creative spirit soared with possibilities. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Like diving into marriage or parenthood, we all rush in with blinders and miss the realities we’re headed for until it’s a bit too late. That’s growing up, I’ve learned. Now, as a 41 year old woman, the blinders have come off. The magic of possibility has faded because I now know so much more about it. Frankly, it’s the price tag that I am now well aware of. Whatever your dream of possibility is - money, parenthood, marriage, business success, personal goals - they all cost something. That something includes time and commitment, of course, but more specifically, the neglect of something else, even if just temporarily. I hate that price tag. I want to do it all - mostly at the same time - and for no other priority to suffer. At all. That’s not how the world works though.

So, writing. Writing has become that unfinished puzzle in the corner that you might add a piece or two when you pass by every week or so, but it will likely get put up to make way for something else long before it actually gets finished. I have a healthy marriage that I want to stay that way. I homeschool three amazing children that I won’t risk being a stumbling block more than I already am. Now, more than ever, our health has to be a top priority which takes time and effort. There are so many important things that whisk you into the current before you’ve even given permission. That’s what erodes at the magic that once was. I’ve never been good at prioritizing my to-do list, a stereo-typical characteristic of the AHDH brain come to find out, and prioritizing something that no one else in the world is demanding I maintain takes moving a mountain sometimes.

In one of my favorite books on writing, Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, she talks about how she practiced meditation for years, but most things in life didn’t make sense unless it was applied to writing. The following statement has always summed up my relationship with the written word:

View fullsize

“This book is about writing. It is also about using writing as your practice, as a way to help you penetrate your life and become sane…To do writing practice means to deal ultimately with your whole life.”

Being a mom (especially one with ADHD) and having any kind of built in practice - prayer, art form, meditation, sacred alone time - is terribly hard. The broken-record phrase of every mom is “Me time? What’s that?” And those who do champion a mother’s self care often get accused of being self-focused snowflakes. There are a lot of hurdles in the way of staying sane within the realm of modern motherhood and I have fallen victim to every one of them over the last 10 years. The magic of writing that has slipped out of my hands so many times since my children were born is to be found in the practice of it. The immediate demands of this fast-paced life has shoved out the slow and steady practice of things and I have to get it back. I say have to because without it I lose clear thought and healthy reactions, the major things needed in all the roles I play in my life.

In this upgraded blogging adventure (name tweak and new website), I am committing to making writing my practice and inviting you to come along with me. As if it wasn’t before, life is just a LOT right now and I don’t think my family can afford for me to get lost in it anymore. Being a highly sensitive person (HSP), there’s no way to avoid the chaos and stress so I have to deal with it. For me, that means writing about it and more importantly prioritizing time to write about it - making writing my practice.

Any tips or suggestions for fitting a new priority into an already full brain?