Some weeks are especially hard.
Some weeks are wrought with an extra steep climb and out-of-the-ordinary challenges.
Some weeks hold more tears than smiles,
And more weariness than joy.
Some weeks take you 20 steps backwards and produce a desire to simply crawl back into bed, pull the covers over one’s head, and try again in 24 hours.
Some weeks make you question everything you thought you knew, everything you do, and everything you are.
Some weeks drive you to drink…or at least make you wish you were a drinker.
Some weeks are full of moments so surreal and un-freaking-believable that you wonder if there was something special about the mushrooms in last night’s stir-fry.
Some weeks are so heartbreakingly hard that you can’t muster the drive to do much more that numbly move through the motions of living.
Some weeks are so absurd that you question whether you have somehow lost your mind and everyone forgot to tell you.
This week was one of THOSE WEEKS.
I am so empty I don’t even have it in me to tell the tales of the last 5 days…
You wouldn’t believe me if I did.
My little RAD kiddo dragged me through the wringer. I mean I love him, but some days…Grrr…
A good barometer of my mental health can be found in the ponderings of my blog. I write to process through the ups and downs, joys and heartaches of this journey we are on…
When the screen becomes blank and my voice falls silent it is because I can’t find an inkling of hope or a nugget of wisdom hidden within the current struggle we are navigating.
Silence is a sure sign of discouragement and hopelessness.
The clouds have now parted enough to allow a ray or two of sunshine through the low hanging clouds and I thought I’d share our survival strategy for the dark days that have plagued us…
When the urge is to run, hide, fight or isolate, reigns supreme, the cure is to play.
As an introvert by nature, when the weight of the world lays heavy on my shoulders my instinct is to isolate for self-preservation, but I recognize how essential it is for our family, as a whole, to pull together, draw closer, and focus on attachment and connection when feelings of resentment and frustration are pushing us apart.
So we play…
And it is a healing balm for hurt feelings and injured relationships.
One evening this past week, when everyone was home and the hours before bedtime were mercifully free, we chose to set aside tasks that needed done and hard feelings that had surfaced from the poor choice of one child who is struggling at the moment, and commit to “just be.”
We didn’t plan, we didn’t orchestrate, we left with no agenda for our local park to simply play.
We needed it.
We were all raw,
and I was trying to remember why I had signed up for this mothering gig.
An hour of just being a family helped me remember why I keep showing up and keep navigating this rocky road.
This is why I do it.
This is what it is all about.
This is the reward for the hard days and ugly moments.
Sometimes you just have to drop everything and go play,
Because the family that plays together, stays together.