There's no crying in . . . life!

There are times in your life when you have to look deep inside, in the places you keep hidden, to really evaluate yourself, your life, your choices.  You have to really acknowledge your feelings, maybe even . . . cry. 

I've done a lot of that this week, evaluating, crying.  If you know me, you know I'm not a crier.  I'm sensitive, I'm emotional, but I'm not a crier.  I was taught from an early age that tears don't accomplish anything.  Unless you were bleeding or had a bone sticking out of your arm, there really wasn't a reason to cry. 

Needless to say, to find myself covered in tears this week . . . well, it was a shock.  But they were tears that needed to be shed.  They came from deep within.  They showed my pain that I didn't even know I was hiding.  They showed the emotions I didn't know I had.  They showed that I wanted things to work out, to get better, to be good.  They were tears of change.  They were tears of healing.

There was a lot of soul searching this week - what do I really want out of life?  What would help me to get that, to be there?  Who can help guide me in the right direction? 

It's never easy to acknowledge your faults.  It's even harder to realize that maybe, just maybe, people care enough about you to point them out to you, but they love you anyway.  And hardest of all, is recognizing that it's okay to let those people in, to let them love you, to let them help you, no matter how independent you think you are. 

Of course, none of the answers are easy.  None of the changes will be easy.  But, for the first time, I was able to really discover these issues, really communicate my desires.  Almost all of them were accompanied by tears. And for the first time, I think I understood that . . . that was okay. 

Freeze!

Darnit!  Another blown opportunity.  I'm so unprepared.  You'd think that, after 5 years, I'd be prepared.  But I'm not.  And that was proven, once again, Monday morning.

I was dropping K off at daycare, the same one L goes to after she's done with school for the day.  We're putting L's sheets in to her cubby and a thing of wipes fall to the floor.  A little girl that L's gone to daycare with for almost 5 years, looked at me and said, "Why does L still wear diapers?"

I stood there, stuffing the sheet into this tiny little box, my brain turning a million miles a minute.  Why does she?  Because she has sensory issues. Because she can't feel when she has to go.  Because it doesn't register that she's eliminating waste.  Because she doesn't know how to use the toilet.  Because she can't control those muscles yet.  Because, because, because. . .

I looked at this little girl, searching for words.  I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing a 5-year old would understand came to mind.  Nothing.  I looked at her, looked at the wipes K had picked up and was handing to me, looked back at her.  I just stood there, frozen.

Thank goodness her mom was still with her.  She looked at her little girl and said, "L's just not ready, honey."

Why didn't *I* think of that!?  Why didn't I think of something!?  I think I get stuck between people needing to know the "why" of things and just giving a simple, matter of fact answer.  "She's just not ready."

Hopefully next time, I'll be ready.