Hitting the Floor

Yesterday morning, I hit the floor.  A wave came over me as I slapped sunflower butter on my son's sandwhich.  I can't do this.  I was so tired and so full of lists swimming in my head.  The lists swarm like bees.  Get this done.  Oh, you still have this to do.  Wait there isn't time.  There just isn't enough time left.  The kids started arguing about which chair they got to to sit in for lunch.  "Mom!  Mom!  It is not fair." And, the wave came pushing me to the floor.  Rocking on my haunches craddling my forhead in my hands.  I knocked back and forth soothing myself enough to swallow all that was left.
      Even the strong break.  I have been feeling like a robot moving in and out of a life not expected.  One day you are healthy, vibrant and the next you are feeling the punches.  Sucker punches.  I strive to be as normal feeling as possible.  I think that is what keeps me here with you.  Power of intention.  But then, I am making sandwiches and feeling sick to my stomach.  My head aches and the sound!  The sound of them nagging each other.  I stopped listening to the words. It is just sound.  Who cares about the chair?  I don't want to be making sandwhiches.  I want to...I have no idea what I rather be doing.
       Deep breath.  Son comes to hold me for a second.  daughter brings me a tissue.  I am better and it is over.  The flood from the tsunami recedes.  Swallow.  Breath.   Finish sandwhiches.
       I read a blog post yesterday by a friend who is in Guatamala as a missionary.  They have been down there about a month now and settling in finally.  In her writing she discussed her concerns with raising third culture kids.  Though there are a lot of negative warnings, she has discovered the positive underlying the charge.  Instead of worrying about how the kids may grow up with a challenging concept of belonging and connections, she prays that they mature with the knowledge of developing strong relationships.  The power of intention.  A mother charged with steering her children through unease waters puts on her armor and takes a dive into the wave.
      It is not easy to be a mother charged with the stewardship of raising  young people to become outstanding adults.  Maybe we are putting forward more effort then necessary.  Maybe we can settle the earthquakes before the tsunami over takes us?  Or maybe we just have to roll with the wave and hit the floor in the heaviness of the burden from time to time.  Only time will tell.  I will forever wear my stretch marks as a band or courage.