The Real Deal

I tried something new a few weeks back and bought "Lite" apple juice. We don't usually keep much juice around the house, but this looked appealing and assuaged some of the sugar guilt since it had less sugar (and more water) than regular juice.

It has sat in the refrigerator for these few weeks with about 2 cups worth missing. My kids weren't fooled by the claims of "All Natural! Less sugar! Great taste!". It tastes watery. It takes one sip to see through the attempt at the advertising on the label.

Out of desperation last night for a drink of juice, Sam poured himself a glass. He had a wistful expression and said, "Mom, can we get grape juice next time? I want the kind that stains your shirt if you spill it." The juice currently in his cup could have been added to a load of laundry in my washer and you wouldn't have even suspected its presence.

There is an authenticity to the grape juice he mentions that is missing from our current fridge resident. I thought about this on my Full-Moon Thursday, when the wheels fell off of my emotional vehicle, when I unloaded on an unsuspecting mother-in-law and questioned my ability to parent and lamented every other life option that could have been chosen. It was truly a moment of deconstructing Robert Frost's "The Road Less Traveled By" and having some certainty that at the end of that poem-- he wasn't praising his choice of the less traveled path, but questioning the worth of the one he didn't take. It was a moment of grape juice stains on your shirt honesty.

Maybe it was the fact it was a full moon. Maybe it was because Brenna was sent home from school for the day and I had to adjust accordingly. Maybe it was finally realizing what everyone has meant when they say that parenting is the toughest job on the planet; they weren't just talking about sleep deprivation.

It felt good to just lay it open. Here it is! Here is where I'm at! And I don't want to be here in this moment, by the way.

We'll finish off the weak apple juice at some point, but the grape juice is here in the house. The warning is clear on the label "NOT A LOW CALORIE FOOD. 100 % juice: grape." It has added ingredients and 36 g sugar. It will stain my kids' shirts unless I immediately run the area under crazy hot water. But it's real. I'll take real.

There is a place for me, even when I feel confused, inadequate and out of my league. There is a purpose for me, even when I question my spiritual gifts or talents. I hold as much value as the mom who is holding it all together today and is knocking it out of the park. I will choose to be genuine about my struggles and at the same time cheer on the ones getting it right today. I will cry with the moms who also question "why" and promise not to fix it but listen.

How's that for a stained shirt? ;)

 1 Corinthians 12 vs 1-31