Saturday, April 24, 2010

Battle Cry

Life has been a bit hectic lately. I feel like I achieve very little in the day, and yet I'm constantly on the move. I guess that's what the life of a soccer mom is all about. Between a weeks worth of piano lessons, scouts, dance, soccer practice, two soccer games, and chores there doesn't seem to be any time to just be.

In the last few weeks I have really been ticked that John isn't here. Life would sure be a lot easier if there was an extra set of hands, not to mention a strong back around here. I have felt so ripped off (well that was the PG version of my feelings anyway), especially lately. The bigger the kids get, the busier they become. I feel like I'm constantly a step behind and I have to run to get even. I'm exhausted!

I was at one of Ethan's games the other night, and I was listening to all the dads coaching their boys from the sidelines. They are critiquing them or encouraging them, and I'm watching Ethan patiently ride the bench. The anger that bubbled to the surface was fierce. Here my child sat watching his friends play the game, all because he doesn't have a dad out there to stand up for him, and coach him. I kept thinking, "If John were here, this would all be different!"

That statement is true in that John would be his coach so he probably would have more, at least fair playing time. However, that statement is also false in that John worked long crazy hours, and probably wouldn't have the time or energy to work with Ethan any more than I can now. There are families all over who have both parents, and the fact of the matter is they don't have any more time or resources than I do. We're all in the same boat. Yes, there are a select few who make it work out, but for the most part, we are all just trying to make it through to tomorrow.

Of course my life would be easier with John here, but for whatever reason that is not to be. I need to adapt and change and make it all work out. There is a kid that comes to piano after Ethan and Ashton that has impressed me more than almost anything. He was born with deformities in both arms. His arms are short, and jointed wrong, and the hands that are connected are deformed with only three or four fingers on each hand. To see this boy at piano lessons is like seeing a boxer in a tutu, it's just out of place. I thought the first time that I saw him, "Wow that is so great that his mom would try to do this for her son." The first time I heard him play, I was blown away. That kid plays like he is whole. Now, what if his mom said, sorry kid there is no way you can play the piano, you have a handicap. Instead, she told him that there was nothing that he couldn't do.

I now look at my life a little bit different. Yes, I have a handicap (quit your laughing, and get serious), but I'm going to defy gravity on this one. There is no way I'm going to let this beat me or my family. I may have to move a mountain or two, but hey what's a little manual labor?