-Warning- This post is just my rambling thoughts. No cute pictures of the beasties or beastette-
From the time we are little we are questioned what we want to be when we grow up. In fact, my two oldest boys were recently asked this question in school. Their answers made me smile as they fit their personalities to a "T". Josiah wants to be a scientist, a researcher and Gavin wants to be a ninja-veterinarian (he does not feel these professions need to be exclusive). I always knew I wanted to be a mother, a wife, a sister, a friend and a good daughter. In seeing myself in these roles I sometimes wonder how I got here. How did I end up being 30 years old, caretaker of 4 children-of course having the body to prove I have given birth to said 4 children, wife to my husband and minder of all things pertaining to my household and family? I know there were choices that led me here...before meeting my future sweetie I had decided to move to OK and attend OSU, after being married we ended up surprised with number 1, praying about number 2, being surprised by number 3 and knowing there needed to be a 4th. We moved here and there, but always keeping in touch with our family. These decisions have all helped shape my life, shaped me.
I hadn't really thought about this much, but the realization struck me when given a blessing by my husband. The words in the blessing from my Heavenly Father were a phrase out of my patriarchal blessing. In that moment, I knew I had become something the Lord intended for me from the start. It was a peaceful feeling to know I made it to the right place at the right time of my life. So, the tired gears in my mind have been going for the last couple of weeks. Chugging along at a depressingly slow rate, let me tell you...but I have noticed a feeling of recognition when I have come across things that have made me...ME. Loving to be around children, the desire to learn more more more, the protectiveness for anyone I feel maternal about (whether it is my beasties, my friends' children, my little brothers or the most darling, fabulous, cute co-worker of my husband) and the urge to armor up my little warriors for the battles of life are a few things that make me who I am. These traits are in part innate and in part learned. But, I struggle every day, EVERY DAY to be a better, nicer person. It's hard!! The struggle often ends in defeat with me in the corner furiously sipping on a CFDCw/VC (caffeine free diet coke with vanilla and cherry added- for those of you who don't know my addiction) to help me feel better about myself and my failures. The thing is, I am my worst critic. My harshest point of view is directed at myself. Do I fail? Oh, so often it hurts! But, I get back up. I keep struggling to be better. That is the conclusion all my muddled thinking has resulted in-the getting up, the trudging along, the bumps, bruises and scars are all the act of becoming who we should be. I am in the act of becoming.