What is it about me that when I look at things I can't help but want to fix them or make them a different way.
I feel strangely impossible to have such a hard time accepting things the way they are without seeing a way to want to improve them, in my eyes. I have set the bar so high with things, that sometimes I think I miss the simple beauty in the every day or the way things should be; right or wrong...perfect or imperfect.
The control-freak in me rears it's ugly head and I want things the way I had always imagined they be, not the way they are. I have a hard time accepting things for the way they are and that is a downfall.
Take my body for example. No. Nevermind. Let me use another example because that one is too far gone and might not be coming back any time soon.
Instead, take the Doodle. I see such potential in him. He has some amazing qualities and is very bright although severely delayed, but I was getting so lost in the diagnosis of autism and the epileptic seizures. I have a vision for the Doodle and it's been hard for me to let it go and accept what's going to be is going to be.
I hate that I can't fix it. I can't make him talk or be healthy. I can't make him learn the things he should have already learned by now and be perfect and all caught up. And for a mom, it's heartbreaking even though I know I must accept it. Part of me feels like when I accept it, I am giving up and that's another blog post.
Then there's the husband. Oh the Husband. But that too is another blog post or perhaps it's very own BLOG. Let's just say who ever came up with the saying, "you can't teach an old dog new tricks" was a genius. Note to self...great name for a new BLOG (Old Dog) written anonymously of course.
There's the house, which I guess will always be my work in progress and be "unfinished" to me because there is constantly something else I want to do to it...be it paint a room or get a new piece of furniture or plant a TREE.
Friendships for me are few. I have a lot of acquaintances and people I know but the kind of best friend I remember having in 4th grade--Janey Baswell--no longer exists for me. And it's a role I have been trying to fill again since junior high. I have set the bar so high for friendship, that I often tend to allow myself to feel disappointed by people; so then I stop trying. And many friendships have left the building...I decide I am too old and too busy to have to invest unreciprocated time and energy into someone whom I think I do not matter to.
Bitter. Table for One...
Let's not forget the apples. Doesn't matter if they are a Golden Delicious or Granny Smith...I see a gorgeous, ripe apple and all I want to do is make an apple crisp or an apple pie. Why can't I just love and cherish the apple for being a magical fruit? The kind of fruit that is already so perfect that it is supposed to keep the doctor away. The fruit that tempted Adam.