Dropping Shoes


This mom feeling has plagued me all my life.

It's been showing up a lot lately no matter how much I try to push it down, aside, or out the back door.


Last week, the phone rang, but it was upside-down and on "silent."

When I went to check it for some other reason and saw "missed call" from one of my kids, my heart went for a race and my palms got all sweaty.


You see, this child of mine was supposed to be somewhere doing something and now they were calling.


Not texting. Calling.


[Is your mom head nodding with complete understanding?]


There it was: that "wait for the shoe to drop" feeling.


Lately, we've had relative calm in our family, which just means that there hasn't been a major emergency and my kids are hanging in there.


But instead of leaning in and enjoying the season of mom rest, I'm on edge looking up at the sky for some giant high-heeled footwear to come raining down on my head.


I found out it's called "foreboding joy."


Lovely.


And based on my quick Google search, there's good news and bad news about it.


BAD NEWS FIRST.


Joy is the most vulnerable emotion and we are terrified of losing it, so we actually practice tragedy.

Everyone does it to some extent and I bet us moms do it even more. How could we not? We've all got a little PTSD, right?


But it comes at a high price. We find ourselves either numbing out or spinning around with anxiety. YUCK.


BUT THERE IS SOME GOOD NEWS. [phew]


And it's pretty simple. [phew]


We can replace practicing tragedy with practicing gratitude. It's key to quieting down that "shoe is going to drop" feeling. [phew]


And believe it or not, it trains our mom brain to have more room for joy. [phew]


Joy for all that's right and good and lovely in our mom lives.

Joy in the middle of the mayhem of all the mom things.

Joy that sneaks out and reminds us, "You have permission to revel. Right now. Stop and take it all in."


I'm not sure what will happen the next time I miss a phone call from my baby-adults.


I might still freak out and look up and cover my head for the impending Adidas, but hopefully I won't stay there.


Perhaps I'll get an umbrella and breathe a prayer of thanks instead.


It's certainly worth a try.


P.S. How huge are my son's shoes???

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