Messy

Oh I had this image of the mama I wanted to be.

The clean house, cake making, hug giving kind of mama.

My children were going to grow up safe, secure ready to take on the world.

I didn’t prepare for disability

I didn’t prepare for loss.

I didn’t prepare for life.

How can I expect them to be ok?

Who is actually ever ok?

Does ok really exist?

We are a world full of rising mental health issues.

Where are we going wrong?

 

Perfection

perfect

This is what the media wants us all to believe. 

You have to be perfect.

From the perfect new born mother with linen wipes and organic baby food.

To the teenager starving to fit in the new fashions,

We cannot be perfect

No one can

But that does not stop the world trying make us believe otherwise.

 

I am a messy mother.

I mess up.

I shout, I scream, I forget to wash sports kit or sign permission slips.

I lose my patience when I’m tired and crave some peace and quiet.

 

My husband is a messy father

He forgets to listen properly and is surprised when they kick off.

He laughs at boy troubles not in mirth but in ignorance.

Scared that they are growing up.

 

Then my girls 

They are the most perfect imperfect children alive and i love them for it.

From the stroppy tantrums to the banging of the doors.

From the constant arguing to the solitary against the parents.

The demanding of attention to the leave me alone moods.

They are messy

and thats perfectly ok.

 

Life is a constant lesson

Each day brings with it a new piece of knowledge and new understanding.

Yet how can you learn if you know everything?

How can you form if you are already perfect?

It’s time we ignored who others wish us to be.

Turn off the televisions and leave the magazines on the shelves.

Lets grow into who we wish to be not what is expected by others.

Let us all be beautifully imperfect 

Lets all be messy

 

 

Because thats who I am.

I was lying in bed last night and thinking about my blog when suddenly I was filled with fear. I realized that I was sharing my heart open and honest to anyone who wishes to read it.

Its like walking up a stranger in a shop and telling them my deepest darkest feelings

I wondered if I actually had got it before, really understood what I am doing when I allow my fingers to roam the keyboard and click the button saying publish.

Its a strange feeling knowing that someone you have never met knows your heart.

For a couple of minutes I actually thought twice.

Maybe its time to stop blogging.

Maybe I should start filtering my feelings, censoring my words.

Then after a while I began to wonder why?

Why do I need to hide who I truly am?

So what if strangers have read my words, in fact i am actually glad they have. Maybe one person has heard my heart and knows that they are not alone.

Sometimes the gift of company is all you need to face the day.

Knowing that tomorrow will come and somehow you will survive.

Understanding that everyone everywhere has a journey they need to take.

That we all get lost and lose our way.

Accepting that life is lousy at times.

We hurt, we ache and sometimes we break.

This blog is my heart and yes at times I may over share but who cares?

I have finally learned something,

Really understood something I should have always known.

Being me is ok, 

The ups and downs they make me who I am

And who I am is pretty awesome over sharing and all.

So there will be no filtering no censorship just pure raw Sara.

It may get messy.

But it will always be true.

Because thats who I am.

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