Back when I only had Barak, someone posted a comment asking me if he was always hilarious and adorable or if I only posted the good parts. I said that yes he was always hilarious and adorable, and yes I only posted the good parts.
I mostly do only post the good parts, about everything. I do whine on this blog, but I try to keep it to a minimum. (I should probably try a little harder on that front.) I don’t really use it as a place to air angst or misery or painful things in general. I’m not that kind of a blogger. I have nothing against those blogs—I read a few of them avidly, much to my husband’s chagrin—but that’s not generally what this blog is for, for me. It’s about the kids, my life, a chronicle of what our days are like, something for the kids to enjoy later, I hope. It’s not quite The Good Parts Version, but it’s not the Dark Cobwebs from the Dungeon Version, either.
This week was hard. Hard things happened this week, to other people, and I was powerless to help; much more minor things happened to me that I should have had better perspective about than I did. Iyyar and Avtalyon were both sick and now Marika is looking under the weather; it was Purim, which is always a challenge. Put together, it was hard to stay on an even keel.
Last night it all came to a head. I came home and my husband and I talked until almost 5 in the morning. I had to get up at 6:30, but somehow, it was okay.
Today I feel better. Today I feel lighter. Today I am looking at my family and loving and enjoying them, and trying hard to not try to be in charge, and to embrace the transience of everything, and the uncertainty and the lack of control we all have.
This is the world.
This is how it is.
This is how God made it, and that means that this is how it has to be. That doesn’t mean we have to like it. We don’t understand it. We can’t understand it. And just like a kid can rage at his father for strapping him down in a carseat when he doesn’t want to be in it, just like a baby can feel betrayed by the mother who holds him down to get a shot at the doctor’s, we can feel rage and feel hurt and be bewildered by how cruel and arbitrary it all seems to us, so much of the time, so much more so these days. We don’t have to like it. We don’t have to understand it. But we have to accept that somehow, in a way beyond us, it is right.
זה היום עשה השם
This is the day the Lord hath made. I can't always rejoice and be glad in it. But I have to try.