The Perceptions of Others...

I've come to a place in my life, and it did take me quite a long time to get here, where I am seriously confident in who I am. 

There are times, though, and I admit it that my confidence can be shaken. 
Regarding my writing, it gets shaken a lot.
Regarding my self-image, I shake it myself.

Heh. Pun.

But I'm never sure what to do when I'm the topic of conversation. The perception of others is basically what people think of me. I am what I am. What you see is what you get. 

I don't have it all together but i certainly won't be smattering my issues all over you.

Unless you ask.

But ... The perceptions of others. 

It's almost like this .... standard.... which I have to achieve.

Like: happy all the time.
 --- I'm not. 

Witty 
  --- mostly. But sometimes i'm quite wit less.


confident
 --- not every moment of every day.


I'm never sure what to do with the wrong perceptions either..


I've been told I'm religious.
 -- I'm not. He meant I'm a person of faith - but he used the phrase religious because he misunderstood the meaning. But it still made me question where I might be walking in a religious mindset.


The perceptions that hurt the most are the ones from my kids, i think..


I've been told I'm fat. (I'm not skinny...but I prefer chubby to fat)


The other day I waxed poetic for a moment, wondering aloud if I could handle having a baby right now. (Writing about pregnant characters brings up some odd emotions, let me tell you) 


J-man said, "Why would she want another kid, she's always stressed out now."


He's 7. 


He's a meanie-head.


I'm not stressed out...but it's a phrase The Professor brings to the table when things are not smooth sailing. I know stress. This isn't it.


This is life with four world changers. Who are completely different personalities.
Who are often at odds with each other. 
Who are constantly having to be reminded to honor each other.
I see glimpses of this love and honor but we're not fully walking in it -- yet.


However, his perception hurt my feelings.
I don't like being the bad cop all the time. I don't like it when the Professor gets to come home from work all happy and cheerful, glad to be home, and I'm still the bad cop. 
It's not fair... and I realize that life is no fair...


but I find this perception of me just a bit concerning. Yes. Fine. I'll say it. It bothers me.


I don't want him growing up with only memories of me 'being stressed out' in his brain. 
I'm not sure what to do to counter it except to trust that God can and will deliver my children from my mistakes. 


In the meantime, I've found myself curiously introspective and watchful on how I react to things... 
I'm not sure much can be done.


I'm out numbered.

Seasons...

The seasons change each ...well.. each season. We have the natural progression of seasons. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter. 

Lather Rinse Repeat

The seasons of life, apparently, aren't quite so easy to predict.
The Laundry Pile is in a hard season. 
It's a pressing season.
It's a training season.


I've got some majorly dramatic children. I've got 4 world-changing individuals on my hands. And often they don't get along. It makes life very challenging. J-man is learning to deal with anger and frustrations. Mini-E has to learn not to annoy people to the point of anger. G-man has to know that it's NOT okay to be alone in the middle of a small house filled with 6 people and try to stand in the middle of his room. Mini-Me is just trying to walk on egg shells.


i don't like any of it. It's difficult work. 

The Professor is in a hard place, much like Joseph in Pharoah's prison. The work conditions suck -but unlike Joseph, The Professor doesn't seem to have much favor with the jailor. So that's also to be contended with...as you know, Daddy's mood also effects the household just as much as the mommy's does.

All of this combines into extra work. 
It combines to wear against me, like sandpaper, until I feel fractious and emotionally drained. 


It's just the season and things will get better... They have to because God promised.
Keeping a hold that hope does...well, sometimes my grip seems really slippery. 


It's the season. I'm trying to hang on until it changes. Until that happens, this is really the only form of the phrase "this too shall pass" that I'll take. 


I know it'll pass. I just really want more to hold onto than a cliche.

I giggle...

And i'm not normally a giggler.

I chortle. Chuckle. and just out right laugh...

but I giggle..

I heard from the random conversation game guy.

His infection is healing. His prognosis is good.

=) He is surprised.

I'm not.

I told him, "i prayed for you."

He said, "Thank you."

and that's all that needed to happen. 

I'm sure that's not all that is GOING to happen...but I may not see the rest. 
and I'm okay with that.

Inadequate...

In the game The Professor and I have been playing, you can meet all manner of people. From all over the world. My character has introduced me to some pretty amazing people. 

And some not so amazing. (Just wanted to throw that in there) 


Sometimes, you get random conversations going with random players and they stick with you. Or check up with you, or you them.


"Hey  how's it going!" 


"Congrats on turning 60!"


"Need a new weapon?"


"Make me some bling?"


"where is.... how do I...." Those kind of conversations.'


I struck up a conversation with someone several days ago. I don't remember what started it...excpept that we were in the same place at the same time.


I haven't really talked to him much since then..


Until today. I got an "IM" (Instant Message) from him... 


"i'm Dying."
 
It's a game. Sometimes you can stand there and watch your character die and not do much about it. So I was empathetic. I wrote back, "I'm sorry."


He said, "yeah, the infection has spread to my bones and I can't go to the dentist."


...


...


...


"Wait." I said, "What? You were serious? You weren't talking about in the game?"


He told me, "dead serious."


Words, at that point, were, literally pointless. What could I say? So I told him, "I'm so very sorry." 


I don't like platitudes. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.


Of course, my first thought was, where is he going when/if he dies? Is he pulling my leg? 


He told me that he planned to get high and die a decent death.


I called The Professor. I needed wisdom. Do I talk salvation with a player? over a chat window? 


How callous does that appear? 


We both agreed that it's doable - but has to be done carefully. 
I couldn't see him. He couldn't see me. That connection was important to have in that instance, i think..


Then I realized...I don't have to be there.


My words can change atmospheres.


So I spoke to the situation from where I was knowing God would respond. Knowing that God would send someone to him. Knowing that there would be a battle until an answer was found.

I felt very inadequate. 
There wasn't much else I could do - so It had to be enough... 

The woman with the oil had an inadequate supply that turned out to be more than enough. 
There's hope in that.

My kitchen windowsill

My windowsill

It started out innocently enough. I picked up a piece from the floor or counter and added it to my windowsill. I added it to see how long it would remain until someone noticed it. 

Then one day, J-man brought me 'Mario' and told me that the set needed to stay together. 

Then i realized how much this suited my personality. I've got the sentiments (coffee cup from a friend, flower from Hawai'i) I've got the bling. (sparkly flower, shiny rocks in a crystal vase (yes, it's crystal) The the whimsy in the crystal blocks....

My writing - is actually represented with the spork. That's also just for fun. 

Then there's the rest of it. My family. the cute little pig I bought randomly at the craft store... the bracelet hanging out of the cup...

It all adds up to one thing. 


Me. 


Thought I'd share.




(I do find myself changing things around since J-man finally claimed his Mario set. No matter. ^_^ it's still me...and I have pictoral proof. )