I am unruly.

Is that what you are when you don’t like rules? They give me a rash. Someone starts to tell me the rules and my brain starts to think about how I can break them. It’s why I can’t diet. It’s why I try to have as few rules as possible. It’s why the ones I do have are open for interpretation. I usually don’t understand them, (whatever they are). And usually the only reason for having them is because someone did something not very smart, so now we have to have a rule (insert eye roll). Also, I find that it’s so limiting. Nearly every rule has an exception. Life is fluid and doesn’t conform. It gasps and sighs. There is an inhale and an exhale that is different all the time, for everyone. Rules aren’t fluid. Rules are suffocating. Rules don’t see the exception or the circumstance, they just hold the line.

I am a mama now. It took 36 years, but I finally did it. To not just one, but two. I am a mama of twin baby girls. They are everything good. I adore them, but they need rules. This is hard for me. I hand them things I shouldn’t because I want them to learn. I let them climb and crawl and engage with the world as much as possible. I try not to hold them back with the rules, because this free spirit wants to raise more free spirits. I have had to squash so much of who I am to make room for them, (I wouldn’t have it any other way). It wasn’t easy though. It’s a war I fight daily. I have had to create and live by…rules. I have had to discipline myself to let go of any expectations or to do lists for my day and conform to their schedule. We get up. We eat breakfast. We play. We nap. We eat lunch. We play. We nap. We play. We eat dinner. We play. We do baths. We go to bed. It never changes. Every day is the same as the last. Every week rolls into the next and it becomes difficult to differentiate between the days. I have insisted on this though. They need schedule. They need routines. They need to know what comes next so they can relax.

Yesterday there was total anarchy. A disturbance in the force. In trying to eliminate too much TV time, they had their normal schedule thrown off. We climbed the bathroom vanity twice. We shredded all the Kleenex’s. We climbed the laundry basket onto the bed. We stepped in the dogs water. We nearly scaled up and off the couch. We got in the tub. We spread mommies makeup and hair ties across the room. We dumped out all of our toys…you get the point. This was in a time frame of about 20 min. And they know, I’m telling you…they know. If one thing gets left open or undone they are on it. Fast. I texted my husband when I finally got them ready for nap time, that the dark side was strong in them and had risen up against me.

This got me thinking about the alliances I have formed in my life to help me survive and navigate the journey. My husband and my parents are helping me to raise these amazing babies. My girls at the studio are arm in arm with me, constantly searching for a life with just a bit more humor, fun, good music, good conversation, connection, community…cupcakes.

We don’t bond over water. (Wink wink)

They all accept that this girl has a rebel heart. That she doesn’t like rules. They even accept that I have had to make a few, and button down the hatches on a life typically lived flying by the seat of my pants. They are my rebel alliance. We’re not positive what’s up with the word tribe, but for lack of a better word, they are my tribe. And I’m just learning. I’m learning that I can have rules and no rules. I’m learning that sometimes you need the rules. I’m learning that sometimes the rules benefit you. I’m learning that sometimes rules are tough, but so am I. I’m learning that having a few rules about what you can touch and climb and crawl might save your sanity. I’m learning that the rule that everyone needs to pay might save your business. Mostly I’m learning that there is a fluidity and balance to all of it. All of it. And that…kinda rules.