There is rain in every mother’s life. Our love for our children does not preclude that.
We can’t blame parenting nor expect it to be a permanent band-aid for an open wound. After all, we can either hide from the rain or learn to love how it causes things to grow.
While raising my six children, I chose the latter–most of the time. Truthfully, however, any rain can be a factor in how you get through a day if you let it, and sometimes I did that too. I am honest, and real evidence that you can feel both passions, as a parent, and your children will still survive.
I started a book over thirty years ago; the first time I shook my inner fist at my parental life but found I had no outlet for my fury. Even then, I knew I would drive my children into their adult psychiatrist’s chair if I let those private thoughts loose. So, I wrote.
What surprised me is how often my writing began in frustration but ended differently. It either ended in laughter or that achy feeling you get when you realize how much you love someone and how much you are loved in return.
What you will find in my stories is honesty. You will not find advice (though you may often encounter my opinion), and you will not find perfection. How I was lucky enough to raise such amazing children only God knows.
My entries are usually short. If you are pressed for time to read (I know most parents are) this allows you a quick story before running off. Later you may have time to think about what you read. Maybe you will find, in my day, some sense of peace–or humor–for your day.
CS Lewis once said, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, “What! You too? I thought I was the only one.” I hope, in joining me, I will feel like a friend.
I have always loved the thought that life is not about waiting for the storm to pass but in learning to dance in the rain. On these pages, I tried to dance. I share these stories with you as I would an umbrella.
~R. Dee Waltz-Shihady, Author of Laughing At the Storms
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