My Cup Runneth Over

cupThis morning, I wanted to throttle #2.

This afternoon, I wanted to throttle #1.

My DivaCup runneth over (well, it did earlier — in the Junior’s department of Macy’s, no less).

As #1 says: I am not even kidding.

As #2 said last night: Be the big person.

As the rabbi reminded us: Have faith in God, and tie up your camel.

The bat mitzvah program is ready for the printer.

Two Mini Memoir groups are off and running and bringing me to tears already with the stories and the kindness and the courage.

This afternoon, I tried to nap but gave up and got up to eat cold carrot soup instead. And another cider donut.

Just now, I learned about something called a bObsweep and could not believe such a thing exists.

My wife wants an RV and I want to get her one.

If you have a partner and can take a walk with him or her, please do that.

Don’t worry about buying the bObsweep or the RV. Just ask how you can make her day better and do that.

I am not here to give advice.

I don’t even know what I am writing, only that the words are amassing into this thick paragraph I may have to at least break up a little, like a clump of rock candy with a tiny hammer.

There’s something I’m trying to get at. I know what it feels like, but I don’t know its name.

It feels like how it feels at 9:30pm, Saturday night, after a full day. It feels tired and like my kids drove me crazy and I adore them and I made dinner — cheesy eggs with some sautéed veggies thrown in, on tortillas.

At dinner, I said I was thankful that we are family and we don’t hold grudges, and we get to feel forgiveness firsthand.

#1 was thankful for salt. #2 was thankful for wheelboards. I don’t know if that’s two words or one, and it doesn’t matter.

Tonight we read the most beautiful prayers on ritualwell.org.

Devotion feels like we match in spirit size. It is densely packed and vast and wide open and it fits in my palm, and I can even close my hand around it and know it’s mine and not mine at the same time, this treasure I carry that carries me.

It (and now I am talking of course about love, it always come to this, doesn’t it?) keeps me. It keeps me and carries me and returns me to sanity and says: So what if #2 is still awake past her bedtime, and it’s ok that I was “firm” with #1 earlier, because my version of “firm” would look like a spa day compared to lots of people’s, but still, it’s not easy for me, to be clear and not turn to mush.

It was hard in the moment but later, it was worth it, for her to know that I believe in her enough to hold her to better than what she’d shown up with.

God knows, and so do the people I live with, that I have not shown up with my best always, and I have a damn hard time forgiving myself for even small transgressions.

There’s actually no real alternative to being human, if I’m going to get to be here doing all of this amazing stuff and loving these amazing people.

So, revolutionary bObsweep or not, RV or not (I’m changing that to a “not yet”), I might as well keep getting on board with imperfect and cozying up with the ramble of our days.

I’ll go snuggle up with #2 and say goodnight to #1, then prep my coffee for tomorrow, when I’ll wake and roll over and kiss my woman good morning and say, “Happy first anniversary, baby.”

Suddenly it’s nearly 11:00pm and I had one last throttle-the-both-of-’em moment before the goodnight kisses, because this day just seemed to ask for that kind of ending and we all delivered.

There’s so much we don’t know about each other’s lives. I’m glad for what we do and can and choose to share. And there’s so much more I want to tell you, but my contacts are so dry, I’m squinting. And Mani is curled up in bed and it’s time for me to unplug the twinkle lights and join her. My cup really does runneth over.

Thank god for sleep and sunrise.

See you on the Sunday side.

Image: Psalm 23, ENWilliams on Flickr

7 thoughts on “My Cup Runneth Over

  1. Pamela says:

    Wow. I had this kind of day too only lacked your amazing words. Like these-

    Devotion feels like we match in spirit size. It is densely packed and vast and wide open and it fits in my palm, and I can even close my hand around it and know it’s mine and not mine at the same time, this treasure I carry that carries me.

    Gorgeous.

    Like

  2. Dana says:

    Days like that are hard and common when kids are involved, but you write about it with a beautiful grace, finding light in the mess. I love the phrase about breaking up the wordy rock candy when the paragraphs come out in heavy clumps. Thanks for this inside look into your world.

    Like

  3. em-i-lis says:

    This is perfect, Jena. Fraught and messy and cider doughnuts and love. I have had just this sort of weekend, alternating nonsensically among tears, joy, anger, frustration and steadiness. Just to hold all of that is exhausting, to be the strong one who’s cognizant of her many gifts but also weighted under them. Sending you love, a happy anniversary and a peaceful Sunday. xo, Em

    Like

  4. Lisa Sorensen says:

    This left me so full of emotions and thoughts and speechlessness and desire to write in this way that connects and entwines us all in your simple powerful words of love, connects and entwines us all in that love itself. Your cup spills over into mine and mine runneth over now too…… Thank you, Jena.

    Like

  5. Christine Organ says:

    Loved this. All of it, but mostly the parts about not holding grudges and forgiveness and RVs. It has been a long-standing dream of mine to travel around the country with my boys in an RV. It’s been a long-standing dream of mine to not hold grudges and really forgive for that matter too. :-) And happy belated anniversary.

    Like

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