finding more to give

I strolled through Target this morning giving solemn looks of solidarity to anyone with ashes on their forehead. As I know that, as some fellow Christian denomination, they are most likely suffering through Ash Wednesday starving to death just like I am.

Ok. Dramatic. I’m not dying. It just feels that way whenever I can’t shove food in my face at will, all day long.

But I’m also still pumping, so we’ll blame that instead of my insatiable appetite for anything that’s bad for me.

I did a quick browse on Google for some sort of “start date” for this fasting rule, and I couldn’t find one. I’m assuming it’s man made like the “no meat on Fridays” rule that somehow started like, yesterday in 1966, but my search yielded nothing. (Granted, I didn’t look very hard.) So I guess it’s legit. πŸ˜”

Anyway, aside from the Ash Wednesday & Good Friday fasts, I guess Lent isn’t so bad. I mean, if you ignore the panic whenever I eat meat and have to hurriedly figure out what day it is and hope that it’s not Friday. And be traumatized by that exercise far beyond the season of Lent. Like, it’ll be a random afternoon in July and I’ll be eating a hot dog because I am healthy and stop and think “oh sh*t is it Friday!?” and have to realize that Lent is safely tucked like three months behind me.

No, food doesn’t rule my life, why do you ask?

On a more serious note, while still on the topic of Lent, I’ve always been one to give up something trivial such as Starbucks or like, donuts… you know, easy stuff.

This year however, I definitely plan (well, hope) to take things a bit deeper because, sheesh. I’ve got to stop being who I have been lately.

It’s hard for me to pinpoint when I started being so quick to anger and easily annoyed by literally everything. For the last year and change, I have either been pregnant, dealing with my dad’s screwed up family, mourning my dad, postpartum and sleep deprivation or breastfeeding. So I honestly have no idea if this version of me is a byproduct of a roller coaster of a year? Or if this is just who I am now.

I’ve always had something of a short fuse, and when things bothered me, I was never shy about voicing it. But the last year or so has definitely been different from that. To the point where even I don’t recognize me.

Side note: why is there a gif of this kid for every situation ever? And does the implied context of this clip alarm anyone else? πŸ€”

My dog stands in my way, I’m yelling at her to “f*cking move!” Someone pulls some bullsh*t in traffic, I’m losing my damn mind over it. (TMI) My boob isn’t fitting in the pump the right way and I’m sitting there literally feeling worthless and revolted by my mere existence. God forbid I drop something, the world all but ends.

Whether it is hormonal, or some weird undeveloped or under processed emotions related to my dad? A combination of the two? I don’t know. But whatever it is, I’m going to try really hard this season to get it under control. Regardless of what is causing it, I still feel as though it is a choice for me to react the way I do. I don’t need to feel things on such a visceral level. I don’t need to say some of the things I say and just because I’m annoyed in that instant, doesn’t mean I should try and make everyone else that way.

We were in church last weekend and the priest was giving his homily. I managed to actually hear this one for the first time since Lincoln was born. Usually he’s running the show and church for me is just a weekly workout that I opt into but lately get nothing out of beyond being able to say that I went. Nothing against church. It’s just hard going with a baby who doesn’t care where you are. πŸ˜‚ But I don’t know, maybe I was meant to hear this one. He was talking about how he was running late to a funeral he was supposed to give(?) and his response to the person driving in front of him was “can you just.. go?” And I sat there in awe unsure whether or not to believe it’s even possible to have such a calm, collected response to a slow driver.

Seriously, I ride behind slow drivers wondering if it’s worth the insurance hike just so I can hit their bumper. And this was before I got pregnant.

But something about it was so attractive to me. I want to be that person. Where annoying, external things roll off me like water off a duck.

So this is my official Lenten goal. To find more to give. Because, it feels lately like the problem is, I don’t have anything left to give. I suppose that is the one positive of being a raging bitch all the time. That it may be a result of me giving all of my good to Lincoln. I feel like at the end of the day, when all of my love and affection and care goes to him, that it’s just hard to squeeze out any extra bit for anybody or anything.

But from now until Easter (and ideally beyond but let’s be real, I’m still me, the self-proclaimed “aggressive Leo”) I’m going to try harder to find more to give. To Anthony, to others, to strangers, to situations and even to myself. I certainly haven’t given myself very much grace over the last few months. Maybe if I show myself some love, I won’t be so crabby and I can find more for others. πŸ˜‚

Do you have any goals for Lent? I’d love to hear them!

Also, good news, it’s 11:36pm and I’m tempted to stay up those extra 24 minutes just to chow down on whatever is in my fridge that I’ve been neglecting all day (hello risotto πŸ˜™). Ha. Just kidding. I’m doing intermittent fasting for weight loss anyway so I’m not supposed to eat from 8p-12p. But it sure is a yummy thought!

One thought on “finding more to give

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