Humble Pie.

As one who loves making pies, I should know all about humble pie, and I suppose I've tasted it on occasion throughout life, but last week I got a giant helping. A little too giant for my preferences!

Yes, I was the Mom at behavioral classes (no idea what else to call it), with my arms crossed, absolutely unengaged, in complete disbelief that I needed to be there. Sure, I was referred by her teacher. Sure, I was referred by a behavioral therapist. But really? Do I really have to be here? Is it really that bad? Awful, awful thoughts.

That was last week. It was a hard night. I think I was so focused on not breaking down into tears. Good grief, I mean I'm at behavioral classes for my child. So then about halfway through we are given a sheet of paper that says, "I'm a great parent because..." And you know what? I could not, for the life of me, fill it out. At that moment, in that place, I felt nothing like a great parent. Both the teacher and Rob were trying to give me suggestions on what to put down. Cute. But no, at this moment, in this place, I DO NOT FEEL like a great parent. I'm at behavioral classes for goodness sakes!

Rob and I were talking once we got home. This is how he views it. Its a problem. We're at classes to help it. Great! End of story. For me, I see it as, there's a problem. We got referred here by other people, because they think its a problem. Then I think about all the ways that I potentially contributed to making it a problem. A lot of guilt. Regrets. Etc. Not sure if this is a man/woman thing, but yeah, I was feeling AWFUL! So a putting a blasted sheet of paper in front of me, asking me to share why I'm a great parent, nope, not gonna fly.

But the interesting part is that this week, I wasn't that Mom. Now there was a new Mom, that was "that Mom." It was their first week. She walked in, arms crossed, with a look of absolute disbelief that she had to be sitting in that chair, in that place. So much of what she said, I could absolutely relate to. She had a cute, spunky short hair cut (that I so admire), and fantastic clothes, but beyond those things, I was still drawn to her. Because in some sense, I was her, last week.

I soon realized that we are all "that Mom" on occasion. We are in a place that we don't want to be, but have to be. Whether its sitting on a cardiology ward hearing that your unborn child has a serious heart defect. Or getting a phone call about your child's behavior from the preschool teacher at 9pm on a Sunday night. Or the Mom who's child is melting down in the middle of Walmart. Or in the middle of the restaurant. We are all "that Mom."

A friend and I were talking recently about how these struggles were not what we thought we were getting ourselves into...AT ALL! I was busy picking out a color to paint the nursery (well, technically I wasn't because we lived in a rental), but picking out clothes, and shopping, and picking out cutesy names. Yet, here I am, 4 years later...attending a behavioral class. No one can (or will, for that matter), prepare you for these struggles.

Its not that resent the place I'm in, I just never thought I would be here. And that is where the humble pie comes into the picture. After our first night, and I was sharing with Rob my struggles, he said "Sounds like pride to me..." Sigh. Alright. He earned that one. Then the next day I was sharing my struggles at my ladies group, and one woman (who is known to be outspoken), piped up and said, "Sounds like pride to me..." OY! Alright, alright, I give up. I admit, its absolutely pride!

So yeah, me and pride, pride and me, we're tight like that. Two peas in a pod apparently. Gosh, its ugly. So that's me. Discovering just how prideful I am. And then left with trying to figure out the implications of that. Sigh, life is never dull, I tell you. If its not one thing, its another. But I do see value in this. That I have people in my life who will tell me when I'm being proud. People who challenge me, and force me to work on me. People like that are invaluable in my life.