What goes up must come down. An object in motion stays in motion. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction...which is like the first one but with not as much gravity in it. (I don't really know. HA!)
In my world, however, things operate under the laws of Liz-ics:
What is glass must fall down and be broken. And object in motion (i.e. a child) will stay in motion unless you are running late; in which case it will lay on the floor like a cement lump. And for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction--namely, if you write a blog about being smart, the very next one you write will have to be about how stupid you are.
This afternoon my daughter came home from school with her usual pile of first grade homework papers. We whizzed through the spelling practice together and then I left her to her own devices to complete her math assignment. I asked her to try it first and to holler at me if she had any questions. Instead of a holler, she met me about 20 minutes later with tears of frustration.
"It's just too hard," she told me.
"Okay, baby. Calm down. We'll look at it together."
After an additional 30 minutes of study, we were still at a loss. So I did what any good mother would do...I got on Facebook.
And I posted this picture asking for help:
Tricky, isn't it?! Impossible, right?
(Wait for it...)
The minute I figured out my mistake, I took my picture down off of Facebook. Not because I was embarrassed or anything,
(Also, so you know, the minute I told my daughter about our mistake, she was kind enough to let me know that my #8 was upside down as well. Thanks a lot, kid. Love you too.)
I wish I could say that this was the only stupid thing I've done today, but it wasn't. I may have brought a skateboard to a park with a group of four-year-old boys and let myself be surprised when one of them injured himself luging down the sidewalk on it. And I may or may not have told a solicitor trying to sell me a home security system that it was not a good time to bother me because I was on the phone with my husband who was overseas.
But probably the dumbest thing I did all day was get mad at myself for breaking my "one week" rule.
What's that?? Glad you asked.
My one week rule gives me permission to be a total emotional nutjob the first week after my husband leaves (in the privacy of my own home, of course--don't wanna be looking like no idiot on the Facebook!) After one week is up, the gig is up. I have to put on my lipstick and mascara and pull myself together and be delightful. Thinking on it now, that's a stupid, stupid rule if I've ever heard one.
I met my one week mark today, but I still got all weepy in the car. I would like to think it was because a sweet song came on the radio, but I'm pretty sure it was for absolutely no reason at all other than my husband is gone and I miss him. I heard someone jokingly talk about how rough this "deployment" was in a very sarcastic tone. Bless her heart. No, my husband is not in a war zone, and I praise God for that. But he is still gone. And life is still happening. And 6's still look an awful lot like 9's. And I still miss him, so doggone it I WILL CRY IF I WANT TO.
(In the privacy of my own home, of course, so as not to look like a fool on the Facebook.)
(Or on my blog, which is also very, very private...)
Sometimes I feel like I have to learn and relearn the same stupid lessons again over and over. I don't know what to tell you. Some days I feel like I channel the Dali Lama and the very next day it's Homer Simpson.
But even on one of my stupidest days, I got to learn something:
I am not strong.
I am resilient, but I am not strong. Those are two different things, my friends. Strength demolishes obstacles and powers forcefully over them. Resiliency is banged around by them, and then stands back up. I roll with the punches, I "embrace the suck", and then I carry on. Not because I'm super tough, but because I have no other choice but to bend.
Thankfully, physics proves that the trees which bend in the storm are the ones that are able to stand up afterward.
(And Liz-ics also seems to support this finding thus far.)
(Don't worry. Still not feeling smart.)
My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may reside in me. (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Here's hoping you are boasting loudly and feeling empowered!