Swift Kick in the Pants

After reviewing conversations with many different friends over the last few days, I realized something about myself. My optimistic self has a real gift for complaining. Now, I know there is something to say for rallying the troops, for recognizing that all of us have hard and nasty paths to walk at times. I know that we need our friendships to stay real, for our friends to paint the real picture of life, and not just tell us how rosy their lives are. But in all of the talking I've done this week, I don't know if I really painted the real picture. I think I've just plain been a big fat baby.

Sure, life stinks sometimes. An over-the-top grumpy and sick baby makes me exhausted. Too little sleep and too much cleaning makes me exhausted. Living in Limbo Land makes me exhausted. My inadequacies make me crazy. The economy? It stinks! Believe me, I could go on and on about the imperfections of life.

BUT...is that all I should be noticing?

No. No. And again NO.

So here's the real picture.

Life is messy. But life is beautiful.

Ben had seven time outs today and had seven terrible diapers. BUT...he also grinned at me with that angelic face, with shining blue eyes, and patted my back, copied everything his buddy Kyle did, and wanted me to sing "There's a Little Wheel Turning in My Heart" at bedtime.

Sophia threw a massive fit about practicing today. BUT...she also said that one of her favorite parts of the day was seeing her violin teacher and having a good violin lesson.

Josh got caught playing his DS for the third hour. BUT...he admitted that he shouldn't be with a charming grin and made me laugh.

Kate cried and cried because the other kids were outside playing while she was still having to practice. BUT...she finished and told me how proud she was of finishing.

I ate too many pieces of cake today (maybe five? or six? or seven?). BUT...they were little pieces of cake, they tasted darned good AND I ran this morning.

On our run this morning, Bliss, Liz and I talked about the next life, and the promise that all things will be restored to their perfect and proper frame. (Is that the right quote? I don't feel like looking it up right now. I'll change it later if I'm wrong.) We were all talking about our imperfections and how much things bother us about ourselves, and we wondered if we would really be "perfect" in some abstract physical ideal or if we simply would be perfect because we loved ourselves as we were. Maybe that's what I want in this life...to love my life as it is and to stop looking for some other kind, some unattainable kind of perfection.

Life is messy. It's hard, it's sometimes outright nasty, but dang, would we really want it any other way?