Uncontrolled

I'm sitting here with Godsmack's "Whatever" BLARING through my headphones. I am a rocker chick at heart. I love screaming guitars and a heavy bass line. Rock drummers are super sexy. Oh. So. Yummy. You ever listen to Godsmack? So speaking to me right now. I'm doing the best I ever did. I'm doing the best I can. I'm doing the best I ever did. Now go away. Here I go getting off topic again. Well, kinda.

Great lunch today. We had a potluck and lots of new families showed up. I tried to introduce myself to all the new people. One lady came, ate with her boys, then took her fruit and left. I had been working my way over to her, but stopped to speak to a couple of people. I felt bad about that. We pride ourselves on welcoming people to our group. Hopefully, she'll come back and give us another shot at making her feel welcome.

Lots of friends we hadn't seen in awhile. Love seeing them again and spending some time. My friend C asked me a question. Was I content about not moving to Texas and all that entailed? Content was an interesting choice of words. Truth is, I am. I can't change it. I can whine and pout and throw a fit, but it won't do any good. It might work out some frustrations. This was not the opportunity for us. Whatever God has planned for us is happening here. For now. The doors would have opened for us. I can't control the situation any more than I can control myself. That's what it's about really. Control.

I have had to let go of more control in the last five years than I thought possible. Sometimes it feels really good. Sometimes it makes my flesh scream. But, I gotta. I still have a great amount of control in several areas. I am very vocal about the fact that I like to fold my own clothes and hang them up. I like it done a certain way. It's just easier for me to do it than to redo it after someone else has folded it. And everybody would rather let me do it because it's less they have to fold. Except my socks. I refuse to match any more socks including my own. I like to load the dishwasher, but not unload. I'm picky about how the dishes go in. I cannot watch other people load their dishwashers. I just want to go behind them and reload it. It's like a jigsaw puzzle. It all fits a certain way. Ok, so maybe my OCD is a little worse than I let on.

I also had to learn the fine art of compromise. That was not something I knew much about before. I used to be really hard to live with. Now, I'm pretty easy going. Unless I have to tell you three times to do something. Then I'm swatting your ass to get you to move. I have had to learn the fine art of seperating teacher from mom, but even that is tenuous at best. They do crossover and intermingle. It's not always easy and I am not always good at it. I have to take a deep breath because someone is defying me. But they really aren't, and isn't that more the point? I have to make myself stop and listen. We do have some rules that are unbreakable, but not many. I started small, like not having to do all 25 questions when you can show my in five or ten that you understand the concept. I have worked my way up to bigger things. I am learning how to give up control.

I see the relationships of hubby's brothers' marriages and I don't get it. The things that they say to each other just baffles my mind. Then again, it isn't my marriage. As easy as it is to stand and be indignant about something, I don't have a clue as what the real dynamic is. I don't live with them, thankfully. I called hubby the other day to talk me off the ledge, as my friend M would say. I was upset about something I have no control over. If I were her, I would... If I were him, I would tell her... I didn't, and still don't, have the full story. I only had one small snippet. I don't want the full story. My flesh does. But it isn't my business. It doesn't and shouldn't matter to me at all. I can't control what they do and say. I sure can't control myself half the time. If the world only thought the way I did, what a great world it would be. Or even more warped than it is already.

It has taken me a long time to be content. I am content with where life has led me and where it may lead. I am content about being here, with my friends, with my family, with my life. Do I wish I was in Texas with my family? Yes. Does that mean that I wish the job had worked out? Yes. But it was not to be. Yet. I am content with loving and being loved. I'm still working on that control thing. I'm doing the best I can. I'm doing the best I ever did.