Happy Tuesday y’all!
So, let’s talk Mother’s Day mamas. . . And, let’s be really, really real.
My Mother’s Day definitely did not play out as I had expected. Did yours?
Throughout all of the years of waiting. . . Waiting for my husband to get home after the end of a long week of traveling, waiting for him to come home after months of training, I have found that the hardest part of the waiting game comes just days before their arrival. The excitement, the expectations. . . They all start to build up.
Just a lil’ background info for y’all: My husband was on a weekend flight this past weekend, and so Brooklyn Meadow, Lemon, and myself enjoyed a girl’s weekend in. Filled with pizza dates and tiny adventures, we had greatly anticipated the return of our knight in shining armor.
My mind had switched over to fantasy mode, and I began to enter a dream-like state. In my head, I had dreamt up the perfect outfit, the perfect hello, the perfect kiss. In my head, I could see him running to me and engulfing me in a full embrace. I pictured him holding me tight, never wanting to let go. A day filled with sharing stories and stealing kisses. Can y’all tell I am a dreamer or what?
So, on Sunday when I had received the “OK” to leave for the airport, my mind went into overdrive. My handsome husband in his flight suit was going to walk off the runway, run to me and hold his girls tightly. We were going to spend the afternoon brunchin’, drinking mimosas on the patio overlooking cornfields. We would spend the rest of the evening as a family, on a walk, relaxing, appreciating one another.
“Hey babe? Can we go home so that I can change out of my flight suit?” *Cue Brooklyn Meadow crying, crankily anticipating a nap in the backseat*
My fairytale began to unravel as we got closer and closer to home.
I was discouraged, disappointed, upset.
Needless to say, after getting home, we spent the remainder of the day inside quietly, as my husband napped.
Was I mad as hell? Yes. At him. At the situation. The day. Myself. Yes.
And here is why I love writing so dang much. Because writing has and had allowed me to reflect on the situation. It allows (and had allowed) me to see my written perspective against a blank, unbiased canvas. Without my mind interrupting, I can (and did) truly mediate and reflect on my situation.
My husband didn’t “ruin” my Mother’s Day. I didn’t ruin it. No one ruined it. It just didn’t turn out as I had expected.
I, simply, in the midst of dreaming, had lost sight of my reality.
In my dream-like state, I failed to factor in that my husband worked hard and long hours all weekend. He was physically and mentally exhausted. He had an early morning and a set of flights to prepare for the next day. I, on the other hand, was running on very little sleep and as a result was irritable and on edge.
Often, we brew expectations in our mind automatically and subconsciously. We simply cannot help it.
In the end gals, we should never release ourself from knowing our self-worth and carrying forth what we know and believe we deserve. And although our expectations form suddenly and without warning, we must learn to separate our fairytale expectations from reality. Hold up – I am not saying stop dreaming! No, no, no. We must just be mindful. At the end of the day, life is going to pan out the way it is supposed to pan out ♡
Ultimately y’all, God’s (the Universe’s, whomever or whatever you believe in’s) expectations for our life are sometimes different than our expectations for our life.
So, just ride the wave. Be thankful. Practice gratitude. Give yourself a little grace. It is okay that you aren’t always super mindful of your blessings in the heat of the moment. Forgive yourself. Allow yourself to grow from it. #glowup
And sometimes, you just need to sit back, relax, have a little Tito’s and let life happen.
Much love –