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December 2017

in Family Life

The Place Where I Belong

at
belong

Growing up, I never felt like I belonged.

Anywhere. Not because I was weird, or shy, or couldn’t make friends.

Nope. I had numerous friends as a kid and teen and young adult, because I was funny and loud and listened and adapted to any group I found myself in. People thought I belonged with them, they enjoyed my company and found my story fascinating.

But the truth is, I never did belong. I knew it – they didn’t.

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motherhood-pride

About 18 months ago, I was tagged in a Facebook post to participate in the “motherhood dare.”

You know the one: someone dares you to post one photo that makes you proud to be a mother.

I struggled with this. I flipped through the photos on my phone, but felt that none of them reflected pride. You see, it didn’t matter how cute the photo seemed, I remembered what happened behind the scenes just before or after it was taken. The tantrum or the complaint or some form of defiance from (mostly) one of them and the way I reacted to it.

I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t particularly enjoying motherhood at that stage and definitely did not feel proud.

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family-traditions

From the star-topped tree to midnight mass, traditions are a big part of Christmas.

I have a confession to make:

I avoid most of them.

As a family we are inconsistent with gift giving and decorating. We have no annual holiday cookie bake-ups, traditional meals or Christmas craft activities.

I’d love to say my lack of traditions has come about because I’m expertly self-controlled and limit our commitments at Christmas in order to refresh our souls with the awesome news of the birth of Jesus, but that wouldn’t be entirely true.

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