Washable Wednesday

(I totally stole this from pinterest.)

Last week, Washable Wednesday sounded like such a great idea. I was full of excitement and knowledge and great ideas and thoughts about how to tackle internal struggles head on, without fear, comfortable in letting my instincts move me forward.

This morning, however, everything sounded stupid.

It happens.

Sometimes, I let my head get the best of me. It’s something I’ve done my whole life. I don’t trust myself very much. It’s an issue. And it’s also today’s Washable.

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“Is it stupid?”
“Do you hate it?”
“No one is going to like this, are they?”
“Are you sure I’m making the right decision?”
“Are you sure I’m not screwing this up?”
“Are you sure I don’t sound like an asshole? I sound like an asshole. You’d tell me if you really thought I sounded like an asshole, right?”

These are the questions. The ones I ask Jeremy. The ones I ask my family. The ones I ask my friends. I trust them. They usually don’t lie to me. I don’t have a problem trusting other people, the right people. I have a problem trusting myself.

I’ve screwed some stuff up. Nothing major, nothing life threatening, nothing that isn’t being worked out on a daily basis, but I’ve screwed some stuff up. I thought I could trust myself, or more likely, believed I couldn’t trust myself and ended up with some results I didn’t like.  Wanna know how I plan to get over that one?

Accept it and move on.

Seriously, there’s nothing I can do about those decisions, now. I mean, until someone actually invents a time machine. So, I’ve screwed stuff up. Whatever. It’s happened and I did it and, as one of my favorite people always says, it is what it is. I’m fine. I obviously lived to tell the story and, in regards to the times I thought I could trust myself and I was wrong, I probably learned something.

Funny thing, though. I’ve been figuring out over the last couple of years that there is one area of my life where believing I can’t trust myself isn’t really much of an issue.

Being Logan and Brodie’s Mom.

Now, please, stay with me. I’m not saying I am a perfect mother. Please, please, for the love of all things good and Holy, don’t misunderstand me. The idea of a perfect mother is complete and total crap anyway but even if it weren’t, I still wouldn’t be perfect. I’m okay with that. That idea sounds completely exhausting to me. What I am saying is that when it comes to my kids, I trust myself. I have to. I’m the mom. They trust me. How can I expect them to do that if I don’t even trust myself? I can’t. And if you think, for one minute, that my kids are too little to know the difference, you’re delusional. They are a little like ferocious animals in that way. They smell fear. Especially the little one.

When it was time to stop breastfeeding, I stopped. When it was time to potty train, I did. When it was time to take Logan to preschool, I took him. And, after Brodie was born and I felt like I wasn’t handling the mother-of-two-children thing so well. When I was a little too exhausted and the baby blues were maybe just a little too blue, I trusted that and saw a shrink. I know, in my gut, what to do. When it comes to my kids, I do it. I trust my gut and my heart and my head. Sometimes, that comes in the form of trusting myself well enough to know I’ve reached my limit. I’m worn out. I need back-up. Stat. There is nothing wrong with that and there sure isn’t anything wrong with trusting it.

One of my very best friends, Adrianne, cannot STAND that Brodie has a pacifier. She couldn’t stand it that Logan had one as long as he did, either. It drove her nuts. When it was time to take it away, I did, but not a moment sooner. She wasn’t so bad about actually bullying me, but those mothers exist. I tune them out. I trust myself. (If you’re a mom, then you already know which moms I’m talking about. The ones who try and make you believe that everything you’re doing as a mother is wrong. If you’re that mom, stop it. Seriously, you’re making your friends feel horrible about themselves and they are starting to hate you) When it's time to take it away, I will. I promise. He's not going to go to Kindergarten with a bink. Calm down. True story, though...I learned a whole lot of what I know about trusting my insticts as a mother from Adrianne. She owns honest motherhood like no one else I know. Thank God for her.

So, there you have it. I’m an awesome mom. Yay me!

No, seriously, I’m not telling you that because I think I’m an awesome mom. I’m not saying I never regret decisions I make in regards to my kids.  I’m sharing that part because it’s Washable Wednesday. I’m sharing that part because it’s good news! It means I’m not completely broken. It means that I do know how to trust myself. I know how to trust myself very well, actually. I’ve been learning about it for 5 years. I just don’t always do it in the other parts of my life. But, I figure if I can trust myself when it comes to my kids, the kids who terrified me before I met them, I can trust myself when it comes to me. To my writing. To my everything else. I already know me. There’s nothing to be scared of.  

There you go, Krysten. Simple enough. Stain’ll be out in no time.

Self-doubt. Down the drain.

Happy Washable Wednesday