It has been 3 months, 3 long months, since I have given myself time to sit down and write. That is WAY too long. As usual, my summer was filled with twists and turns, some of which I didn’t see coming and they knocked me off my feet for a minute. I don’t know what it is about the summer months, but geesh- I was glad to see this one go. Thankfully this summer’s theme was not about death and job transition like some other summers have been. Instead it was filled with a “For Sale” sign in my front yard, countless trips to look at homes with my realtor, a sudden change in summer camp for the kid, then a new plan put in place for his summer, my house covered in moving boxes and big decisions to make. Mix all of this together and add a difference of opinion between the hubs and I about these big life decisions and throw in a couple of emergency therapy visits and you can better understand the title.
I met a mom who said she was holding her life together with duct tape. As I laughed I thought about it and added that my duct tape has a few rips and snags in it and we laughed some more. Tre says very insightful and odd things to me all the time. I guess he had an epiphany one day and asked if being a mom was hard. I immediately answered yes, but before I could go into my speech of why, he followed it up with saying he thought it was hard because I have to think about his food, clothes, school, camp, etc. I agreed with him and added that the more challenging part is making sure I am doing the right thing as a mom, teaching him correctly and having him in environments that are safe and encouraging for him. This summer I realized that more than ever as I signed him up for a summer camp that, after nine days, turned out not to be the best location for him. And as I wracked my brain to come up with an alternative plan, I was pissed that that plan didn’t work. You know how you want something to work so much so that you can’t think of an alternative because in your mind there is no alternative? Well that was me. I took a little blow from that, applied some duct tape and kept on moving.
After 10 years in our first home, the hubs and I decided this was the time to make our move. We did all of the stuff you do to get a house ready to list and show and felt good about the plan. People came in and out and offers came. Yay! After moving forward with our buyer and the subsequent inspection and appraisal- here comes another blow. Those who are in real estate know that it is all a numbers game and if some numbers are off,
it can impact everything. So I pulled out that duct tape again and this time I needed a much larger piece. And let me just say it wasn’t that fancy modern-day duct tape that’s in that store where everything is $5 or less, this was that classic silver roll that’s back in the junk drawer with some random things stuck to the sides you forgot about.
I started off in June feeling good and quite positive our plan, but by mid August I felt like I was barely holding it together and my duct tape began to show it.
I have always prided myself on being able to hold it together, but let me tell you- I probably cried more in July and August than I have in all of 2018. I cried out of frustration. I cried out of fear. I cried out of worry. I cried because I was crying. It was exhausting and I did not like it. Like many of us, I have this Superwoman mentality. But if I learned anything through this home selling and buying process, it is that I am not invincible. There are situations that will cause me to stumble. I don’t know what shook me more: the unexpected things that happened, the discoveries I made about myself or the fact that I was not able to control any of what was going on. It was probably the lack of being able to control things and people. I wanted it my way. I wanted it the way the hubs and I sat on the couch and fantasized about it. It wanted it that way and because it wasn’t happening that way, I had a hard time accepting the way it really was and the way it was ultimately supposed to be. Numbers changed. Settlement dates got pushed around and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I got really frustrated one day and I told the hubs plain and clear, “I DO NOT want to hear any cliches. I DO NOT want any moral victories. I DO NOT want to hear,”It’s going to work out Krystal…Don’t worry about it…It’s going to be ok, blah blah blah…” You know the stuff we all say when we don’t know what to say. I followed it up telling my friends I didn’t want to hear it and I told my therapist! She just looked at me, smirked and said ok, I’ll just say it to you later! Trust me- she did and we both laughed.
Of course I did all of the things I knew to do when life hits, but I felt like it wasn’t working this time. I prayed. I fasted. I read scripture, but God was not moving the way I wanted and I couldn’t understand why. I felt like all of the things that were happening were a sign that I was not winning in all of this. God does all things well and just like God does, he sent me messages all over the place to reassure me that victory for me (and us) was inevitable. I just had to hold on to what I knew to be true and not give up.
So, fast forward to today, while I’m still rocking my slightly worn duct tape in some places, I have committed myself to not wasting my tears and to not go back down the rabbit hole of worry anymore. Instead I have chosen gratefulness and to fortify my faith…but I’m still not a big fan of cliches these days. Lol. I think this journey of womanhood/motherhood/wifehood requires a good ‘tape job’ sometimes, so I’ll always keep duct tape on hand…along with my prayers…and I’ll cry when it’s absolutely necessary.