Lessons #6 & 7: Lightbulb Moments

This week, I've felt like I'm back in college, cramming for days to meet all the deadlines of finals week.  Blogging--at least, the kind of blogging I do--isn't supposed to have deadlines!  But somehow, I've set myself up with expectations of what I want to get accomplished here on the blog while it's still December, and now I'm rushing to make it happen.  Maybe I'll take a break during the first week of January and only post short, frivolous things.  :)

Just for record-keeping, the series intro is here.
Lesson #1 is here.
Lesson #2 is here.
Lesson #3 is here.
Lesson #4 is here.
Lesson #5 is here.

Too much of the time, I only see life from my perspective.  Despite my efforts to the contrary, egocentricity defines me, and I must continually fight against it.  But two times in particular this year, the blinders were peeled from my eyes, and I could suddenly see life through the outlook of someone else.  Here is how it happened.

Early this year, when Shav was still waking often at night and I was beyond frustrated by my lack of sleep and my inability to help him past the hurdle of night-wakings, I was laying in bed in the middle of the night and, to tell you the truth, feeling a good bit sorry for myself.  "Why is it my responsibility to get up with Shav in the night?" I muttered.  "Jeff could be helping out more with him.  I know if I needed him to, I could wake Jeff up and he would do his best to help out.  But why doesn't he automatically wake up?  Why is the job on my shoulders?  As much as I'd like to, I can't ever say, 'I just don't want to do this anymore' and quit my mothering job.  I'm so stuck in this role.  It's not fair!"  Writing it out like that reminds me of what an ugly pity party it was becoming, and I'm ashamed to write the words.  However, the good part of this story is yet to come.

Suddenly, the lightbulb turned on inside my head, illuminating the reality of the situation; and I realized that, no, Jeff might not automatically wake up at the slightest sound from Shav's room, but he carried a huge burden on his shoulders:  the responsibility to work to provide an income in order to sustain life for the six of us who were currently in the family.  As much as I might occasionally help out financially by foregoing certain luxury items on the grocery list to save a little money or by doing a little accompanying work for which I received some compensation, I did not, in any way, carry a significant part of the financial load.  Jeff had no choice but to go to work to make money in order for us to live.  Whether or not he liked his job made no difference.  Whether or not he felt like doing it had no bearing.  He was (and continues to be) stuck in his role.  If he didn't perform his duties, the ship would go down.

How humbled I felt!  How much more grateful I suddenly was than I had been a moment earlier!  How much more willing I was to do my part to keep the ship afloat; and although I couldn't go off to work and ease the financial strain on the family, I could and would give my heart and do my best to fulfill my role.  Even if that meant getting up every night with Shav.  And with that, the pity party was over.  Completely and unequivocally over.

The second lightbulb moment occurred one time as I was struggling with letting my mother help me with the dishes.  I know many of you reading this are probably thinking, "What's wrong with you, Davene?  I would LOVE to have my mother--or anyone else--help me with my dishes!"  But from previous conversations, I know there are a few of you who understand that sometimes, as a grown woman in charge of one's own household, it's challenging to accept help from one's mother.  :)  Even if you think I'm nuts, bear with me as I write out the lesson I learned.

In the beginning part of this year, I often felt like a three-year-old in my relationship with my mother, mentally stamping my foot and saying, "I can do it myself!"  (Watching Tobin in this phase of life has been somewhat like looking in a mirror!)  I so desperately wanted to prove my capability to care for the needs of my own family and, in the process, I craved the affirmation that came from my parents seeing that I was good enough to take care of everything myself.  Just like Tobin.  *sigh*

Many times, I would push my mom out the door (figuratively, of course) after supper and not let her stay to help me with the dishes, even though she genuinely likes doing dishes and really would have been more than happy to do them for me.  My pride got in the way of me accepting her help so often.  But eventually, along came a lightbulb moment.

The thought came suddenly and thumped me over the head:  what if my parents, rather than agreeing to come up here for supper every evening, started saying, "Oh, no, Davene, we'll just eat at our house tonight; we can manage without your help; you don't need to cook for us"?  How silly that would be!  Why not just let me serve them in this way?  After all, it makes perfect sense for me to cook a slightly larger portion for the evening meal and have them here for it, too.  Why should they stubbornly insist on staying at their own house and going to all the trouble of making their own dinner?

Fortunately, they never did that, because they're too humble...AND smarter than that.  ;-)  But in that instant, I realized that in essence, that's exactly what I was doing, stubbornly, foolishly refusing the help that was so graciously offered to me.  My pride was flaring up and was just as ugly as my pity party had been.

From that point on, I began to change in this area; and although I don't always let my mom stay to help with the dishes, now at least I have a good reason for those nights when I usher her out the door.  ;-)  Like last night, when my dad wasn't feeling well and it seemed more important for them to go ahead and return to their home to settle in for the evening and try to help him get a good night's sleep to recover from the germs that I"m sure we passed along to him (sorry, Dad!).  But since that lightbulb moment, that sudden flash of how things look from outside my own perspective, I'm willing to let go of my pride and admit that no, I can't do everything on my own, and yes, I need help, and most of all, thank you for doing my dishes!  :)  I'm sure my parents are very relieved by how I'm growing past the three-year-old stage.  ;-)

So, with that, I've come to the end of my reflections on specific lessons learned in new ways during 2011.  I know, given more time, I could dredge up other thoughts about what I've learned and ways I've grown this year.  But I'm glad to have taken the time to write out these seven lessons; and I hope that by doing so, I'll be able to look back upon them and be reminded of the truths I've learned.  I don't want to fail this level and be sent back to learn these all over again!!  ;-)

I wonder what lessons 2012 will bring...