Oops, I did it again...

"I pondered the direction of my life, and I turned to follow your statutes"
Psalm 119:59

A few months ago, Andy did a message titled "Guardrails." The premise of the series was simply that you need to establish guardrails throughout your life BEFORE an accident occurs. The guardrails are meant to keep you between the navigational beacons and help you avoid disaster. Preferably, those guardrails would be set back several feet from the actual hazard to allow you plenty of space between you and the danger zone.

Eric and I talked at length about this series. It applies to Grant and his friendships, as well as, many aspects of our lives. (Obviously, some of our guardrails were made out of cardboard or had faulty installation but...). Anyway, one of the biggest guardrails that I needed to be mindful of was standing up for my own needs. I'm not sure why I'm so crappy at that. I usually am willing to sacrifice my own needs for that of others in order to keep peace or meet others' needs but sometimes I do it for the wrong reasons. I'm very good at doing this "martyr-style" and I'm even better and doing it and huffing about it afterward. No matter what style I wrap around it, it's wrong if I'm not willing to do it without a grudge. (I'll tell you now before Anonymous does that this was probably one of the worst things I brought to our marriage - right behind being poor a verbal communicator).

As I mentioned earlier, the number one thing that all of the counselors keep saying is that I need to take care of myself. That means speaking my mind in truth and love. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Nope. Not for me. And just so you know, I failed miserably twice today. Once in an IM where I tried to uphold my boundaries and ended up being Super Broom Rider and the next time, I put Grant in a scary place because of my lack of willingness (or ability) to take authority and speak my mind.

Remember our drunken neighbor? (Let me just note that she and hubby both have pretty high profile jobs for the neighboring school board. Glug, glug, glug)! She came banging on the front door this evening like the world was ending. (She probably thought it was going to. In fact, she had all of her clothes on when she came to the door so she must have been planning on going somewhere)! :) Grant ran upstairs to get me when she started beating on the door. I'd just convinced Annie to go to sleep. The minute I unlocked the door, she bolted in with her little dog in tow. She marched straight to the sofa and sat down. (All the while, our cat who is more like Cujo, kept eyeing her little purse dog. I think I was silently looking for a good fight and some payback)! I did note that she wasn't wreaking of alcohol when she entered so I wondered if she was just giving me a heads up that she was going to sick the HOA on me for the weeds and condition of my yard. Nope, the minute her butt hit the sofa, she jumped up and randomly asked Grant to see his room. Grant looked at me in disbelief. He knew his room was a disaster area and we just aren't in the habit of letting anyone roam the upstairs - especially when Annie is asleep. However, crazy lady didn't wait. She took her dog and headed upstairs. Grant followed after her and I was left just standing there. My mind raced knowing that I wasn't defending my boundaries and I sure wasn't speaking my mind. Although, I'm not sure I would have really wanted the words that were whirring through my mind to actually leave my mouth at that moment. About the time Grant, crazy lady, and her dog cleared the top of the stairs, I heard her stupid little rat dog start squealing like someone was standing on its tail. It wasn't just one little squeal, either. It just kept going. (If Grant had been standing on its tail, he'd have moved quicker than that). In chorus, Annie started wailing, too! She had every right to be pissed that some weird howling noise outside her room scared her to death! I ran upstairs to grab Annie and had decided to tell crazy lady that she needed to leave. As I cleared the top of the stairs, she stood there looking at me very confused and just said, "Oh, did we wake the baby?" Really? Yeah! You also woke the neighbor sleeping two streets over!!! What in the world? Finally, I got Annie back to sleep and gingerly pushed crazy lady back downstairs. She then said, "Mama, I think I'd like Grant to watch my dogs this summer." At this point, I was done. I could tell Grant was really addled and I just told her we'd talk to her later and opened the front door. She didn't get the hint so I had to tell her again that I'd email her later.

Beyond trying to figure out what kind extra special "trip" this lady was on, I'd managed to let her waltz into my home, up my stairs, and into my son's room (oh, and she also "chased" the dog into all of the bedrooms with open doors upstairs, too). What happened to the guardrails I'd put in place about maintaining boundaries and speaking my mind? Failed! Ugh. Why is this so hard for me? What would have been so hard about saying, "Please don't go upstairs. I just put the baby down and it's not presentable for visitors"? Man! This is so aggravating. Just once, I'd like to get this right.

After such a long week and looking forward to another long week, I'm worn out. I really just want to give up. If it was just me, I probably would. I'm so tired of everything being a battle and never feeling like I win. (Yeah, I might have lost the battle but I'll win the war... blah...blah...blah). I feel like my prayers aren't clearing the ceiling (I know they are but sometimes you just feel that way) and that everything that was stable in my life has been tossed into the air and is falling piece by piece and I'm running around like I'm some sort of Looney Toon character trying to catch the random pieces before they hit the ground and shatter into a gazillion more pieces. Meanwhile, I have three kids running around my feet making the job even trickier! I call this "whatever mode" and I can vividly count four times in my life that I've been at this place. It's that point where you're at the mountain peak and teetering. You can choose to slide down one easy side of the mountain and wallow in sin and pity and do whatever makes it feel better OR you can go down the rocky and craggy side inch by inch and scrape your butt, legs, and every other imaginable body part and have to stop and take breathers but know that when you get to the bottom, you'll be in the best place. I'm teetering. No lies. I'm teetering. Enduring the heart-break and continuing trauma of the current path I'm on seems nearly unbearable but I know that the destination will be worth the journey. The hurts from all of the sharp rocks and lonely outcroppings will dull with time. But, man, it just stinks!

So, while I cough up my lungs and wait for NyQuil to take me to lala land, I can tell you that in the last month, I've tried to reinforce every guardrail that I have in place to make sure I'm able to keep myself and all three kids right where we need to be. However, on days like today when I screw up so bad, I just want to stop trying. I know I have to press on and rely on God's strength to carry me through but...

The other dent in my day came when I decided to take the kids to the mall today to ride the carousel after I had Grant's phone looked at at the Apple Store. I didn't even think about the memories we had on the stupid carousel until I was trying to hoist Dasha's 80 pound butt up onto one of the horses and hold onto Annie at the same time. After Ansley came home from the hospital, she had tons of medical equipment which made it nearly impossible to take her anywhere. However, one day, we got brave and decided that every little girl needed a carousel ride in their life. We packed up her stuff and took Grant to ride the carousel. Those memories assaulted me as I stood there going around and around with two carousel horses bumping me from side to side like a warped car wash. Although Annie loved her first ride, I hated it. I knew we'd lose Ansley after that ride but I would have never guessed that I would have lost Eric, too.

I'm really not trying to be morbid day after day. I don't walk around moping and droopy. I laugh and have fun at school and with the kids. However, it's when I finally have a minute to sit down at night and sweep the cobwebs of the day from the back of my brain that this junk seems to show up in the dust pan. Gross. So, I guess this is kind of like my garbage can and I'm dumping the cobwebs and other debris in. I think the garbage bag needs to be changed, though, it's beginning to stink!