I’m an Ostrich

It’s that time of year, everyone! The time where I post a random blog post about lessons I’m reluctantly trying to force myself to learn. So, here it goes….I hope everyone out there can relate.

I’ve told this story before, but it’s worth a revisit. I needed to revisit it…..

When I was living in South Africa, I went on a game drive with some friends I had made there. We were out admiring all the wildlife, and when we came to the ostrich, the driver told us what it’s like to ride an ostrich. Apparently, you get on and just hold on for dear life. What a funny thought, right? My friend then said, “Every time I see an ostrich, I think of that Bible passage in Job.”

β€œThe wings of the ostrich flap joyfully,
though they cannot compare
with the wings and feathers of the stork.
She lays her eggs on the ground
and lets them warm in the sand,
unmindful that a foot may crush them,
that some wild animal may trample them.
She treats her young harshly, as if they were not hers;
she cares not that her labor was in vain,
for God did not endow her with wisdom
or give her a share of good sense.
Yet when she spreads her feathers to run,
she laughs at horse and rider.”

I looked at those big, ugly, dumb birds, and suddenly the thought of riding them wasn’t so funny. It seemed awesome. Riding an ostrich might be on my bucket list now. Those birds can run. They suck at pretty much everything else, but they were born to run.

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I took Jolie to the zoo a week ago and there was that ostrich up close just sort of just staring at us. I’ve been thinking about that dang, ugly bird ever since. Silly, right? Here comes the lesson part…

I legitimately can’t remember the last time I sat on my couch. Most nights I don’t have the opportunity to even think about sitting down until like 9pm, and that’s only if I choose to ignore the piles of laundry I’ve been consistently ignoring for a week already. 2 hours of commute a day, and consistent 30 minute long temper tantrum stand offs with my toddler have me in the weeds, and I’m struggling to find a way out. I actually cried over a road closure yesterday. Actual. Tears. EVERY road that I take to and from the babysitters and to and from work is closed, and then yesterday my detour was closed, too. Instant tears, because 10 extra minutes is like gold… travel across the country in your horse and buggy amounts of gold.

I have high standards for myself. I have a career that I love. It’s important to me. I HAVE to have a clean house. I just do. I HAVE to get to the gym on a regular basis. It’s a non comprisable for me. Screw being skinny and fit…It’s just about sanity at this point. It’s important to me to provide healthy meals for my daughter. It’s important that I spend time with her and interact with her. Not to mention sleep…trust me…NO ONE wants me to compromise on sleep. I’m somehow managing to do it all, except just not very well. Every single one of my “non comprisable” things is suffering because there just isn’t enough time in the day. I’m tired and constantly feel like I’m failing.

I had a moment the other night when I got into bed without ever sitting down for the like the billionth night in a row and though, “Holy shit, I think this is just parenting. I think this might be just how it is. You just don’t ever sit down.”

I put so much pressure on myself to be perfect, but I’m really just an ostrich. As desperately as I want to be that girl who bakes and brings you cookies because you had a bad day…I’m not. When the hell do you guys find time to bake, anyway?!?! And how are you good at it? I can’t think of a single time my cookies ever turned out like my grandmas. Why can’t I ever remember to send “Thank You” cards?!?! I should be a Thank You card person. As much as I wish I was making Jolie a homemade Halloween costume…My mom bought it for me, because I don’t even know when I would have time to go out and buy one…let alone make it!!! Do you see all these grammatical errors?! I desperately wish I could commit the proper ways to use commas to memory, but I can’t. I won’t.

I’m just an ostrich. It feels like I suck at everything, but like the ostrich, I have that one thingΒ and damn it… it’s enough. I’m enough.

I’m in the weeds, and the weeds are my new home. I think I’m done feeling like I’m failing. What a waste of precious brain space?! If we have clean underwear…I’m winning. Peanut butter sandwiches and frozen broccoli once a week is TOTALLY acceptable. My toddler eats broccoli…I’m winning. Cookies are bad for you. Thank God I suck at making them…winning. I usually only have like 30 minutes at the gym and at least 10 minutes of it I get caught talking to someone, but I went….winning.

Why did we all start believing we have to be good at everything anyway? That’s dumb. I’m an ostrich.

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