Are we allowed, when things are sad or beautiful to express ourselves through tears? I wonder because I try so hard to swallow that feeling in most settings that when I arrive at those private moments when no audience is present it feels like a true release. It reminds me of children who act out and are told to use their words rather than being physical. Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes there is just a feeling and that feeling manifests itself as a well of emotion in one's throat, slowly radiating through the chest, sometimes to the stomach, swelling the heart and falling from one's eyes as a tear.
It means a great deal to me when I hear another mother say how hard things are, how tired she is, or how overextended the family schedule has become. There's a feeling of kinship knowing I am not the only one that doesn't have it all "together". Still, though, it somehow makes me question my own resolve. They have more kids then me - of course they are tired! They commute to work each day, no wonder they struggle to get a great dinner on the table. All those sports they tote the kids around to must be exhausting! What's my excuse? I have one child, work from home, have very few responsibilities that require my time away from my family.... I must be lazy right? Why is it that one moment I can take pride in an accomplishment but in the next split second feel a deep sense of inadequacy? Was I trained this way? Is this something else I should blame on my mother? My commitment to myself this week will be to relish in my accomplishments. Whether it is making a great d...