Finding Me

There was a fleeting moment today during which I second guessed God’s decision to give me four children.  It came to pass as I scrubbed a toilet.  My nine-year-old special needs daughter soaked nearby in the bathtub after a very messy accident left her, and the entire bathroom, in desperate need of my prompt and undivided attention.

Equipped with my tired old rubber gloves and a scant roll of paper towels I went to work.  Hunched over the lifted lid of a toilet I’d scrubbed only days before, I couldn’t help but envision a lifetime, both already spent and yet to come, taking care of someone else.  It was in that instant that I felt my spirit bow from the weight of momentary despair.  I fell apart not outwardly, but within, sure that one more soiled diaper or overturned plate of spaghetti, or smeared hand print would surely send me over the edge.

Thankfully these moments are few and far between.  Regrettably though, when they do occur I feel as if I’m teetering on the edge on insanity.

I knew going in that motherhood would not be glamorous.  Everyone knows, after all, that minivans and diaper bags don’t exactly scream sexy.  What I didn’t know was that it in spite of the constant companionship of my children, it would get lonely up here on the front lines.  The keeping up and keeping on is a necessary, but completely exhausting reality.  And in the height of the chaos–in the tangle of it all–I tend to lose bits and pieces of me.

Sacrifice and motherhood go hand in hand. Play dates rank above happy hour, parent teacher conferences come before pedicures.  I can deal with that.  Much more difficult to accept, though, was the loss of a social life, the giving up of all things girlfriend.  In spite of the teachers and neighbors and random other people in my life, I sometimes felt like a mom without a country.

Today’s encounter in the bathroom left me itching to get to my computer, not to post the gory details (and believe me they were!), but to commiserate.  To hear words of reassurance from a blog friend who, like me, has cleaned one too many toilets this week.  To be lifted up by a funny story.  To gain perspective from an inspirational post.

The blogosphere, it seems, has become my community.

Blogging is my constant.  My go-to for a split-second of sanity amid the commotion.  I turn to blogging friends when my toddler does something completely worthy of a laugh.  Or when I’m wondering what brand of washing machine to buy.  Or when I’m at my wit’s end with my mother-in-law.   I blog a gamut of emotions without fear, without restraint, and without regret.

Why?

Because time after time, comment after comment, I find acceptance.  I find understanding.  I find friendship.

Within the tangible parameters of my daily life there are but a handful of people with whom I connect.  My virtual life, though, delivers a daily dose of me time.  It opens up a world of women, not bound by geographical location, whose struggles and triumphs echo my own.  Our stories resonate; our lives intersect.

On the familiar blogs of friends I’ve come to know, I’m met with that which I, as a mom, as a wife, as an individual, long for: a compassionate group of like-minded women who share in this blissfully chaotic journey.

So what rewards have I found in the blogging community?  I’ve regained myself.  And, quite honestly, I missed me.

51 comments

  1. Your last paragraph is so true for me. I feel like I’ve found myself from even BEFORE I had kids. Before my little William arrived I was so wrapped up in my professional career that I neglected my love of writing. Now, staying at home and naptimes permit me to write and I feel more whole because of it.

  2. I would choose you to win. :)

    I keep telling Husband I want to go to a blogging conference and he keeps laughing at me. I really only want to go because I want to meet all of these lovely ladies I read about. I hope you win and I can live vicariously through you when you are there.

  3. Brava!!! Very well written!

    I completely understand the blogging being “me” time. That’s what it is for me, too. My husband doesn’t understand it and gets upset that I’m on the computer “all the time”, but I really need that time.

    And why did God give you four children, one of them having special needs? Because you’re the perfect mom for them. You’re able to see the humor in so many things that could make someone else crumble. You may as well put on a cape and tights! Amazing mom! :o)

    So keep writing and I’ll keep reading. And maybe next week we can get together for a virtual pedicure. ;o)

  4. this is so great and exactly why I blog… Exactly. Had I never adopted a special needs child, I probably wouldn’t have needed support as much.

  5. What a wonderful post, as usual. I am so glad you have that “out” as I know you, my little social daughter needs it, as any mom would. And it allows those of us who aren’t there on a day to day basis, to feel like we are, thank you!

  6. Wow…what a truly honest and profound post! I am in awe! This is what I call a “Pie and Ice Cream Moment” on my blog. Thanks for that little piece to remind us all that even though we may have never met each other…all of us can be a support to each other based on a common thread! Good Luck with the contest.

  7. I think you should win the prize! What an amazing post! It definitely resonates with me. It is hard to find like minded people that live around me. Blogging has become such a life line. Good luck!

  8. Well, of course you should win.
    As I’ve said before you are a very good writer. You have a knack of wringing the last tear out of a jerk.
    And, as I’ve also said before, I’m an expert!

  9. Why would you NOT win! I have cold chills and I am not even kidding! Beautifully written. I am an empty nester and when you have given your life to your kids and they are gone…believe it or not you can fell alone too. The blog world has meant the same to me. I love this post. Thanks for writing it and so lovely too! :)

  10. Pack your bags lady…you’re headed to Blogher. As I’ve told you, your writing is just amazing. I’m glad too to have found “been there, done that” support in my online friends. Can I call you my friend if we’ve never met?

  11. That was beautiful, Darcie! Well put, and I’m so glad to know you even better. I’m glad to know you at all!!

  12. That was a really, really wonderful post. I just love this blogging community because of people like you! I’ve got my fingers crossed for you – and saying a silent prayer that you haven’t had to re-clean the bathroom lately.

  13. I also have a special needs daughter. Some days I am overwhelmed by the constant need. I dear friend told me once, “God doesn’t give this kids to everyone. He has a lot of faith in you”. It sounds like he has a lot of faith in you too. God Bless!

  14. Love it. And I miss you too. So you should solve that by coming to NY. And bring everyone with you. xoxo

  15. So I read and responded to this post already, but it has stuck with me and I just wanted to say again how great it is. I can totally picture you scrubbing that toilet. I love your spot. =)

  16. Darcie,

    This was so sweet. I’m sorry it took me so long to find it. I often think that it takes a village to raise a mom as well as a child. I’m glad you’re finding your village online.

  17. Great post! I think you expressed how a whole lot of us bloggers feel. Maybe I should get my husband to read this so he won’t think I’m a big bloggy loser. :)

  18. I voted! And I’m going to mention you on my blog today to see if I can get you some more votes. Good luck! I think you deserve it!!

  19. What a great site! This is my first time to your blog and it is so cute. Love the design. I agree with your post. Thanks for articulating what so many of us bloggers feel :).

  20. I am Allison’s mom and a special needs teacher and it is a joy to read your blog and how honest and positive you are. My heart is lifted when I read your stories and know that you are the reason God blessed you with your daughter. I hope her teacher knows how wonderful the home she comes from is and that the small problems can be overcome with a happy heart and an understanding that tomorrow is a new day for both you and your child. Thanks and I hope you win- I voted for you and would again if I could vote twice.

  21. Hi, Carol Gold sent me your blog… it was really good… comiserate is a perfect word. I have been sick for a couple years and not in community at all. I feel like Facebook was a God-send that gave that back to me… I am meeting ppl I would NEVER have met (like Carol) and reconnecting with ppl I NEVER thought I’d see again, and now I get to read your blogs too. Sweet!

  22. That is so good, Darcie. You echo the stories of so many of us. Its so interesting to me that motherhood is almost synonymous with loneliness and isolation for so many of us. Thanks for putting it into words so well…(I really really hope you win!)

  23. Thank you so much for this entry & for sharing your thoughts with us! I am voting for your entry right now! :)

  24. I just voted for you.
    I hope everyone who has posted to you here has also remembered to v-o-t-e for you! Happy Valentine’s Day to you all!

  25. Wonderfully written Darcie! How perfectly you find the words to describe what your fellow moms are feeling. An honor to vote for ya!

  26. Made me cry. I forwarded it to all my mom friends and all my friends without kids who struggle to understand me sometimes. So well-written. I’ve never popped in here before, but I am so glad I found your spot.

  27. HEY GIRLFRIEND, I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN IMPRESSED WITH YOUR ABILITY TO WRITE. THIS ONE…..AS USUAL WAS PERFECT. BEST OF LUCK TO YOU, YOU DESERVE IT.

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