Two nights ago, we got the boys all tucked into bed early and I was soooo looking forward to hopping in bed with “Of Mess & Moxie” for a good laugh and some heart inspiration. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, applied all my creams, gave the dogs their medicines, let them out and then carried my little old guy Walter to his bed (our little bedtime ritual, because walking isn’t easy for him these days). I’d finally finished all my nightly chores. (Which are way too many by the way.)
If was finally time to read.
But my book wasn’t on the nightstand. Oh, that’s right, I read a few pages during lunch. But it wasn’t in the kitchen either. My desk? Nope. Oh! I know. I took it to football practice. It must be in the car. Not there either. Not under the seats. Not in the back. Nowhere. I looked on the back porch, in the laundry room, and the pantry. I even looked in the fridge.
My book had mysteriously disappeared.
Until I went to grab my favorite essential oil Thieves cleaner from my sweet friend Lauren, when Voilá! my book! I was half thrilled and half stunned. What in the world?! Why was it there? How did it get there? How could the wires in my brain possibly be so crossed that I would put such a prized possession under the counter with the cleaning products?! Then without even second guessing myself, I acknowledged the early warning signs of dementia, grabbed the book and moved on.
But not before snapping a picture, obviously.
When we got home from practice last night, I showed my son the picture (whose name is withheld to protect the not-so-innocent). Can you believe mama’s brain is so full that I would put my book under the sink?! He laughed hysterically. Like, more than was appropriate. His eyes were gleaming. I spent over 30 minutes looking for it last night, and then today I find it under the sink!
Mom, I put it there.
You did what?
I put it there when you took my electronics away for my bad attitude. I wanted to take something precious away from you too.
Laughter erupted. I don’t even know how to parent in times like this. I was in awe. My baby had done this very wrong thing, trying to get back at me for his consequence and I was cracking up. We can talk all about how to deal with this later. For now, there’s a different point.
Did you notice how quickly I blamed myself?
Not even for one single second did I consider the fact that I didn’t put the book under the sink. Because of course I did. My brain is overloaded. I’ve got too much going on. I’m moving too fast. I’m getting too old for this. There’s just no way to keep it all straight. Those are all the thoughts that instantly filled my mind.
And they’re lies.
They’re the kind of negative self-talk and beliefs that limit me and you in our every day lives. Most days we don’t even notice them, much less question their legitimacy. But we need to. We need consistent reality checks. We need other people to grab us by the shoulders and say, “That’s not the truth about you.”
We need each other.
And more than the pretty pictures in our Instagram feeds. We need face-to-face, eyeball-to-eyeball. Heart-hugging. Truth-telling.
Make it a point to see your people this week. Look in their eyes. Go beyond the ball games and back to school shopping. Talk about what’s happening in our world. Share what’s happening in your world.
You never know, you might find out you’ve been listening to and believing a bunch of racket.
Authentic, face-to-face friendship can free you from that, if you let it.
to more love,
P.S. This is precisely why we host the monthly Girls Night Out. My dream is to create a fun and meaningful done-for-you GNO, to consistently connect you with your closet girlfriends in an environment of other women who are ready to replace the noise of our lives with friendship and love. Come join us.