Wednesday, January 27, 2016

I think burlesque dancing may be easier

Last Saturday I was scheduled to take my very first ever burlesque dance class,  but then Kid 3 reminded me about his afternoon basketball game and said he wanted his whole family to watch him play.  And I cherished one of his last remaining moments of sweetness before the temperamental teens set in, so I chose my sweet boy over learning to walk like a show girl and dancing behind giant feathers.   Definitely another day, though. 

I'm obviously in a period of needing to learn new things.  Because on the way to the basketball game I stopped into the fabric store and decided to buy my very first sewing machine.  Because I've always had dreams of making things beautiful.  Maybe even making some beautiful things one day.  However, I spent the better part of my morning trying to thread a bobbin, and have decided that learning to burlesque may be easier. 

So that's kinda the whole story of my last two weeks.  Right now I'm very worried about our dog.  We're not really sure how old she is because no one could confirm that when we adopted her.  But she's not feeling well and making her mama very sad about the whole thing.  We've also had a sick kid, a parent/teacher conference, a totally separate and distinct angry teacher phone call, a teacher note home, a doctor check up, an orthodontist visit, and y'all .. I'm back to not sleeping all that great again.   That being said, I have to be careful not to post something stupid or inappropriate on here in a state of sleep deprived poor judgement.  

Which... speaking of....

Last week I had a writing due for another blog.   And not many people liked it.  Maybe because it was a very last minute effort and borderline awful.  Or maybe because, even though it was very last minute and almost definitely awful, it spoke truth.  Truth about insecurities that I know I feel at times, but maybe that a whole lot of other people do, too.  Maybe that's what made it awful.  Or maybe it just was.  If you were one of the handful of people who gave me your token Facebook like on that particular site and post, I love you, I love you, I love you. 

The post went something like this..... short version....

It was about how I went to work one morning wearing a brand new outfit that looked fine and dandy in front of my mirror at home.  But somehow between the time I left home and when I spotted myself in the mirror at the gym, I decided I needed to purchase a rear back up camera for my behind.  When did they install trick mirrors at the Y? 

Anyway, my outfit was pink and gray which showed sweat like crazy.  And the pants were too short and the whole outfit, just to say it like it was... made me look like I ate at the Kip's Big Boy all you can eat buffet right before class.   I felt bad about it.  And I felt bad in it.  But I was stuck that way for two of the most unattractive hours of my career.  Stuck that way feeling terrible about myself and trying to read the minds of all my people possibly sizing me up and wondering where not to shop for workout clothes. 

Now.  The whole point of me ever in my right mind sharing that story with the general public was to express how critical I can be of myself.  And trust me,  I've won awards in the area of being mean to Kristi. 

And though I would love to practice what I preach all the time about seeing myself through God's loving eyes, sometimes I just don't. 

And for me it's always been the random comment or criticism - or what I hear as criticism... that brings out my biggest fear.  Fear that someone else may see the things wrong with me that I already see.  And in case you are inexperienced in this, let me just say that all things appear larger than you might imagine when dressed in pink spandex.       

So I ended my writing with this... that I know how lucky I am.  That I know how strong and capable I am.  And how thankful I am for every single minute of it.  But that I am also able to admit that a certain weakness that has been in me for a lifetime comes from such a deep and buried place that I'm not sure it will ever be completely gone. 

Kid 2 has been hearing words of influence all around him this school year.  And in several areas he has conquered the world, but one of the hardest for him has been the influence of others about which high school to attend next year.  And y'all, I'm talking about kids saying some really negative and mean spirited things.   

We have a transfer system in our school district that allows a student to transfer to a different school for hardship reasons or to attend a program that his home school doesn't offer.  We've really encouraged him to give an open minded look at our own high school in the neighborhood - a close look with his own eyes mixed with the good experiences of his big brother, Kid 1, who is having a great first year there.  We've encouraged him to try to tune out the negative perceptions and long held beliefs about this place - especially from those who have never even been inside the school.  And thankfully he has.  He had a wonderful half day visit to the high school this week and came out of there feeling pretty good about things.   

And I'm hoping he can go back to his friends and become the influence, not the influenced.  All I've ever wanted for my kids is the opportunity to learn in a safe and loving environment.  And for me to not have all my kids at three different schools for another year.  Of course there's that. 

So I've seen Kid 2 fight the opinions of self and others quite a bit recently, in his own 14 year old way.  And I have to wonder if I've done well with these years of mothering my boys - or have I wasted a lot of them being negative and critical about myself and even worse, letting them hear it?  

Parenting is big mix of a lot of things.  And I'm still learning each day.  And I know I've messed up a few things with them and with myself.  But in the big math equation of it all, I hope the right things are greater than the wrong.  

Once again, though, I think burlesque dancing may be easier.

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