They are unpredictable. Seemingly uncontrollable. And they wield the power to reduce me to tears over a mangled homemade waffle. They deceive us into believing they are powerless. And they older we get, the more hostile they become.
Before we go any further, it is important that you know that I have struggled with how to share this topic, and even whether I should. After all, the line separating “good to know” and “too much information” is a delicate one. Besides, admitting that you cried over breakfast batter is embarrassing, at best. But now that my 40th birthday is squarely in my rearview mirror, I realize that they have me outnumbered and they aren’t giving up without a fight. Keep reading
I am a hypocrite.
Dyed-in-the-wool. Die-hard. Deep-seated.
Perhaps you’ve seen my work:
“You’re your own worst critic. You look great!”
“You deserve it! Do something nice for yourself.”
“Don’t worry about it, girl… I’m coming to see you, not your house.” (This one is my personal favorite.)
You may not recognize this as hypocrisy, because these encouraging words aren’t hypocritical at all… until you’re armed with the fact that I scoff when someone else (usually my husband) offers these words of encouragement to me.
In my house, word of an unexpected visit can bring my entire family to its collective knees. Keep reading
Sometimes I come home at the end of the day, look around the house, and ask “So what did you do all day?” And when I ask myself that, I’m usually at a loss for an explanation. Because I know I did something. And I know I stayed busy. But I’ll be darned if I can list the things I did.
As I was reading a friend’s blog entry yesterday, I was reminded of a time about a year ago that I was bogged down in the sense that I would never, ever catch up. I knew I had a to-do list, but in spite of my crazy-busy days, it never seemed to get any shorter. And reading her blog reminded me of a trick I used then to convince myself that I really, truly accomplish things during my days. Keep reading