“We need to spruce up our laundry routine,” utters the adoring husband. He slides a donut in under my nose and backs away before fangs appear. It’s a wise peace-offering and not the first time he has placated with carbohydrates to save himself.
“Whaddya mean?” my inner voice screams. “I can barely manage to blah, blah, blah.” Short breath. “And, I’ll have you know blah, blah, blah, blah.”
However, instead of getting my undies in a wad, I inhaled a bite of the deep-fried sugary bread and–wait for it–
“I totally agree, Honey. ”
As soon as I finished performing CPR on him, I wondered what “sprucing up the laundry routine” might mean. Now, for anyone who thinks he was using this as a metaphor for a more interesting sex life, you’re probably right. But, my brain tends to work like a man’s, so I took his words at face value and bought fabric softener.
My fingers tingled as I sorted and planned the day’s laundry. I’m a self-proclaimed laundry-lover and whine that being on the road means that I don’t get to do it as often as I like. Yesterday, as I was burrowing my nose into the lavender infused towels and a lilac-scented high school football jersey, I went to the place I often go when performing simple, repetitious, but rewarding work.
A rabbit hole full of shiny objects. Crevices full of bottles and potions with labels bearing the siren’s beckon of Eat Me – Drink Me.
There is SO much I want to do these days, but the monkeys, the lions, the tigers, and bears. OH MY!
~~I want to finish editing my book: Gurrlll….you have laundry to do
~~What a special moment – I should write about it. Child please, you have a plane to catch
~~But, I have so many stories to share! Honey, who gives a rat’s booty about what you have to say?
~~So, I’ll take a picture. It’ll be a crap picture. Why waste the effort?
~~Then, I am going for a run. Look at this gorgeous weather. Are you kidding me? On that wicked knee of yours? Do you know how slow you are? Besides, you have a presentation due. Your work is a house of cards and everyone will know you’re a phony. Get your lazy a$$ back to work.
~~He is growing up so fast, I wonder if he knows how much I love him. You’re the one who’s gone every week night, when are you going to get your s&*$% together? You can’t bond during Facetime calculus homework.
~~I hope she knows how proud I am. What a beautiful young woman. What mother only talks to her daughter once/week? When did you become such a bad mom?
Sort, wash, dry, fold, repeat.
Do you find yourself in an unending spin cycle of self-loathing and judgment? How often do the words, “I suck” enter your brain? Is that the stench of wet towels or the filth of your hurtful words filling the air?
I’ve stumbled off the yellow brick road, friends. Mama Mick was supposed to be a safe place for us to come visit, battle our dirty laundry, and celebrate imperfection together. These hallways are deserted and when I’m here, I stuff the trash into the cushions and hide the clutter in the cabinets before company arrives. Of late, my words have been white-washed and pristine–like the rooms populating my Pinterest walls.
Pretty to view, but no authentic work happening anywhere.
So, I’m reorganizing, redecorating, and reclaiming my space. Cleaning out the crap in my life that doesn’t belong. I purge every Fall and it has always been the closets, drawers and garden shed bearing the brunt of my frenzy. However, this year, instead of eradicating stuff, I’m dumping the brain junk into the trash pile.
~~I am not (insert): worthy, valuable, needed, wanted. Honey, we are all wired for struggle and worthy of love and belonging.*
~~I am a terrible (insert): wife, husband, mother, father, daughter, son, sister, brother, friend. Do you care about someone? Do you love somebody? Do you try?
You are enough. You are more than enough.*
Two years ago, my intent was to fight unattainable perfection. I want you to come to this place, connect, and own your story. In doing so, maybe we won’t feel all alone in a world reeling from life’s in-your-face tragedies. I don’t know what this looks like, but the closet is cleaned out and I’m ready to fill it with substance, humor, and real stories.
- I WILL edit and finish my book (November)
- I WILL share all of the stories brewing in my head (eventually)
- I WILL run if I want to (every week)
- I WILL say “no” if I can (I’m working on it)
- My family WILL know that they are my priority (I’m sorry honey. Thanks for the PBJ this morning)
- I WILL quit disappearing for weeks at a time (5 out of 6 ain’t bad, right?)
What if I fail?
Oh, but my darling, what if you fly? e.h.
*Quotes adapted from Brene’ Brown. I’ve started her new book, Rising Strong. It’s already a must-read and a launch pad for whatever comes next.
Please excuse the mess during the Fall redecorating. A few housekeeping items:
- Click “Menu” in the upper right to find out how to follow this blog or contact me. You won’t be spammed, I promise! I hired the best Akismet hotties to help.
- Feel free to follow Mama Mick on:
Note: This social media stuff gives introverted me the heebie geebies! I’ll do the best I can and that’ll have to be enough, right?
Now…wanna help me fold some towels? I have donuts 🙂