My Alex P. Keaton Family Ties Moment …

I realized I only had about four years left …

While everyone was fascinated with the planets and stars aligning on 2-22-22 it hit me … he’ll be gone in four years. Off on his next adventure into adulthood. And I felt that twang in my heart.

The little kid who liked bulldozers, Batman, choo-choo trains, and Wonder Pets. He’ll be gone. The one that reached for my hand as we walked across the street, with his tiny feet. That gave me pause.

It reminded me of an episode of Family Ties when Alex, Alex P. Keaton that is, was going away and his mom was having a hard time with it, the good-bye part. I remember the episode, I remember how she felt love and sad and hurt. I remember.

That’s on the horizon.

And it’s more than just Spring Breaks, Easter’s, Summer Escapes, Beach Staycations, and Saturday ball games to consider. It was mustache growing and height adjustments. It’s carne asada dinners that are on the countdown because I seem to have them numbered and that got to me. The everyday togetherness won’t be together.

I know it’s my job to prepare them for the world and educate them into being compassionate, hard-working, kind, smart, independent human beings. I got that. I know that’s at the top of my list but I had to take a minute there. I remember people telling me it’ll go by fast, the days will seem like forever when you’re changing diapers but the birthday candles will come and go quickly. And here I am nodding my head at comments I heard more than a decade ago, with four-plus years left, now the fast-forward button seems to be on.

I find myself wanting to hit the pause button. And I made a conscious effort to do that. I catch myself ready to steam up and holler when the not-listening phase extends itself multiple times throughout the day and we find ourselves rushing through, trying to get somewhere, and daily life making it harder for plans to work out smoothly.

The fire in frustration is what I’m working on as a parent. I want to be remembered for the Coach Taylor vibe I give off when I’m headed toward progress, not the hectic and stressed-out mom who’s constantly yelling at them to pick up they’re shoes, socks, cleats, or laundry off the floor and wondering when that extra common sense is gonna kick in.

I look at the grays in the mirror and try to be grateful for how I got them, because each comes with it’s own story, and one of the chapters is closing soon.

So I marked 2-22-22 as the opportunity to step it up a notch and try to increase the joy and venturing, because those four years will go by quick and then the kids will be making they’re own choices down their yellow brick road, their own gray hair adventures.

It’s been over a month now and although it’s been challenging and frustrating at times, I’m making that extra effort as the end result matters most. Filming a weekly log and leaving digital notes for them in the future is a surprise I hope they enjoy, as every day has an impact on what they feel. The countdown is on, it’s live and interactive. But not so much in counting the days and checking them off, but more so as my buddy would say … making the days count.

Buen Camino…

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I Laced Up My Shoes and I Kept Walking … I Hung in There

Having someone point out your flaws and make you feel pretty crappy on a day where love is supposed to be everywhere kind of sucked.

Mornings like that should be reserved for times when you have strength overflowing and your feel good-song constantly replays in your mind.

All this love was going around, everyone exchanging flowers, and balloons and chocolate and someone was pointing out that I yelled at my kids four times to listen and follow directions … It was pointed out to me that it wasn’t a good thing to be that kind of parent, or person.

You know, I know that sometimes my patience runs out and if my life would have turned out the way I imagined maybe there’d be less frustration when things went haywire. But it’s something I’m fully aware of … I’m mindful not to yell at my kids for no reason. I grew up with unecessary yelling and scolding, so I make it a point to not do that. I’m very aware of what that does to a kid. So I know I’m not angry all the time and I didn’t appreciate someone painting me that way.

People see you in a moment of frustration and they know you’re having a bad moment and they use it against you. They lay things out there and judge you when you’re drowning. And the thing is … They know you. They knoooooow you and yet they say something like that, something that just feels like a punch in the stomach.

It was pretty sucky, having that feeling all day.

But then I went to get my kids Valentine’s Day cards and I found something that made me smile.  A valentine I could have gotten for myself, or just an everyday card. Something that my dad might have gotten for me, and I found the grace I needed to move on.

 

 

I laced up my shoes and I kept walking. One foot in front of the other.

Buen Camino my friends.

 

 

 

 

 

The Master of The Dig on Motivation Monday

Tell me something good it’s Motivation Monday they said …

I stuck up for myself today, not that I don’t do that if the situation presents itself. I do. It just happened today. It happened with one of The Masters of The Dig.

You know this person. Everyone knows this person. You have one or have witnessed their slimy skills once in your lifetime. It’s the ambitious co-worker, your mother-in-law, your best friend’s sister’s cousin, the girl scout troop leader who wants your kid to join but you don’t want that in your life, the worst bridesmaid ever, your neighbor.

You’ve seen them. The Master of The Dig.

They have this look. This word. This way of delivering news that makes you twinge. They suck out the life during a conversation and you need like 45 minutes to recover from that interaction. It sucks.

Toxic people are bad and you usually have to keep your distance but sometimes you can’t. You see them every day, every week. Like Carol from accounting, or your neighbor Mark, who always parks over the line. They just get to you and know how to do it so you think … give me a little more grace today.

But I didn’t have it in me.

I was in need of the famous DayQuil, NyQuil, and tea regiment. So you know, when you’re sick and fighting inner-cell battles, mucous, and symptoms you have very little tolerance for people that add to that fight. I mean if you’re not gonna help me, great, but don’t think I’m gonna let you make things worse, especially when I’m feeling at my worst, and when there’s no chocolate in the house.

Digs. They’re nasty bits of criticism full of contempt with no constructive or helpful nature behind them. They use something you’ve said to them in confidence or in a moment of sadness and then break your trust by turning it around and zinging you with it. Sometimes it’s nothing that you’ve said, but an observation they have and they keep drilling it over, and over and over again.

It’s a hidden hostility really, to just bring about some flaming response, just to get a rise out of you. In essence it’s just trying to tear you down, bit by bit for whatever motive. Either because they’re insecure, or they’re having a bad day and are lashing out. Either way it’s not you.

So there was no grace for this person. I had no patience for toxicity today. Zero. And I tried to do the nice thing and just ignore it, but they just kept going, continuing the conversation and dug in, so I had to put an end to it.

I sassed my way out of their nastiness, and I found it interesting that they were not happy with my defense. Some people are so used to getting away with all these little attacks, trying to tear you down, but I just couldn’t. These last two years I’ve tried to rid myself of this type of toxicity, and minimize any interaction with people who’s primary focus is the dig.

I’ve tried to Zen Master my way out of things, but sometimes sass works too. In-need-of DayQuil-and-NyQuil kind of sass.

So on Motivation Monday tell me something good that happened …

I stuck up for myself … and the Dodgers won.

Buen Camino my friends.

 

 

 

It Was Time To Find The Story …

I had to get a jump on it, between folding laundry and ironing clothes for tomorrow, I had to get on it. I had to muster up enough 5-hour energy on my own, the natural kind, the one that comes from heart and will power, not so much the one that came in the bottle. Otherwise I’d have no story this week, and with no story there is no record  …

You gotta have a record. I almost didn’t have one this week … the cool side of the pillow seemed to win most of the battles this week as I fell off the WordPress Wagon. Didn’t mean to of course. I’d like to say it was because of the holiday and all the Christmas spirit that was hanging around here, but no … no spirit. Just exhaustion.

But before the week ended I was able to summon the creative juices of finding the funny … I had to … otherwise the bitterness of the situation would fester into my Festivus celebration and I’d just turn into another angry chick.

But you know what?

Nothing is wrong with being an angry chick.

Absolutely nothing.

You just have to accept that, but I’m not always that angry chick. Most of the time I’m Zen, but anger strikes hard when people cross the line. So you have to hold tight to the things that matter to you … like dignity and self-respect and being able to tell a story before the powers of exhaustion kick in and you fall asleep at the computer.

Take for instance the chick that was suing me … she turned out to be a very angry individual who embellished the story quite a bit as she spoke in front of the judge. However the law happened to be on my side and I didn’t have to go into too much detail when it was my turn. So Judge Wapner dismissed it But I’ve learned that just because it was dismissed, doesn’t mean it’s over. She looks like the kind of person that might appeal … we’ll see. I didn’t get a good vibe from her as she walked out of the courtroom.

Or take for instance when someone flat out accused me of taking something we both knew I’d never touched, however blame was being throw around with profanity and bad attitude because they had an audience. Why not throw me under the bus while they had an audience? Drives things more in your favor. Luckily said object was found. I got no “I’m sorry,” or “thanks for finding it”. Just plain attitude that it was missing because they happen to forget where they put it …

Don’t you hate it when that happens?

People … I get that losing something sucks, but don’t go off blaming people who are standing within a 10-foot radius of you just because you’re frustrated.

So during this edition of Guatemalan Peoples Court, writer-director battles that cancelled my project, and being thrown under the bus for a family member’s lost item, I took it upon myself to remember … to remember that this stuff isn’t really important.. It sucks. Yes. No doubt. It’s not cool what they’re doing. It isn’t … but their opinion of me and what they say isn’t important. It doesn’t matter.

What matters is how you act when the shit hits the fan. And I’m happy to say that my integrity stayed in tact, my ability to do the right thing, to go high when they went low, was in full effect. So when I lay my head on the pillow I have no regrets.

I know what was said about me was exaggerated. I know it wasn’t true and my kids knew it wasn’t and that’s what mattered most. I continually focused on people and things I loved … like my kids, chocolate, friends, Netflix … plus it didn’t hurt that I was able to beat the crap out of pads during a Muay Thai boxing workout.  Beating the crap out of things helps to get it all out, because I realized that sometimes mind over matter doesn’t work out … so you have to use body over mind to get you out of the funk. Working out, getting you body active, tends to help align things mentally for me again.

And for that I was grateful.

I’d put that bitterness in the rear view mirror and was looking ahead. Festivus was around the corner, time to celebrate, time to wake up the next morning and be like … I got this! It was time to find the funny in the the not-so-funny … it was time to find the the story

 

 

I’m Usually Not a Diet Person But …

 

 

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Hugs, Kisses, and Boogie Boards

Molly-Ringwald-Sixteen-Candles-Tina-Fey-Steve-Carell-Date-Night type of romance was out there yesterday, somewhere between the picnic lunches, steak dinners, heart-shape boxes of chocolate, smiles, and kisses it was out there. People celebrating a little thing called love.

I celebrated love as well  … the one with sandcastles, plastic shovels from Target, a Batman Frisbee, and a great laugh as the waves tickled their toes.

 

 

And yes … there were boogie boards. But also hugs and kisses.

Love comes in many ways, and makes you feel good whether it’s Valentine’s Day or not. It happens everyday and I was grateful for it yesterday.

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Flawsome … Pass It On

 

It’s not like I wake up asking for it, just comes with the territory of a dysfunctional family, and for the most part I can Zen my way through it. But sometimes it just hits you late at night and there’s nothing left waiting for you in morning … nothing but an emotional hangover.

That crap can just suck the sunshine out of the sunrise.

It can be a look, a word, a telephone call or a full blown passive aggressive conversation … the results the same. Just a bunch of doubt, questioning what you thought was right, what you believed of yourself, what you knew to be true. You play the possibilities over and over in your head, all the things you could have said and should have said.

Conversations with yourself at 2 a.m. are freaking great, you have the best comebacks and rational of all time … and sometimes they end up being the worst. You end up reaching for your phone, knowing full well you shouldn’t, because you know things are just gonna get worse but you need to get your point across.

And just as you reach for the phone, you see a text that a friend sent you over six hours ago, something you missed, because you were having deep thoughts with yourself over the championship one liner that could have zinged your way into a ‘you-see-what-I’m-saying-you-see-my-point’ victory.

And it read …

FLAWSOME

adjective

An individual who embraces their flaws and knows they’re awesome regardless.

 

And then Holy Crap.

It hits you.

It’s a sign.

A small bright black and white sign in Times Roman font that proves something you’ve known all along, proves your entire point.

You are awesome.

You are and the people in your circle of trust, whether it’s family or friends, need to have that word in their vocabulary and apply it to you, because you apply it to you.

She sent it to me and I thought … yes. She gets me. This whole group of chicks get me. Now I may not have the typical broad spectrum kind of flaws that 40-year chicks have, everyone is different I get it. But I do have some, and I’ve gotten to the point where I know what they are and I embrace them, they’re part of my DNA. Do I love them? No. But I know they’re a part of me and I work on them, Deepak and meditation seem to be helping out. Acceptance is something that comes along the road, some people take longer than others. But I’ve arrived to the station, I’ve been here a long time. I’ve been thinking I’m awesome for a while now, clumsiness, dorkiness TV-loving nerd and all, and those closest to me should think it too.

So when I got the text … I felt vindicated, because someone else, someone on the other side of town was thinking exactly what I was thinking and passing it on.

Yup.

I’m Flawsome and I have friends that know it and feel it too.

So I stopped having the conversation with myself, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and fell asleep. I could finally do that, because I knew again what I had already known.

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Mixed Tape Monday

I only got four today. Five would be great … but it’s four. I wasn’t feeling five.

They kind of snuck up on me today … on Country Monday. Each of them had something different that sort of pulled at my strings, and stayed in my pocket until night time. So I thought I’d share. Got some great storytelling out there with this kind of music, the kind of stories I feel, read and like to write. No fluff, just the real deal.

Now I’d heard the Bentley, Rhett and Zac Brown songs before but I had never heard the Keith Urban tune and it just blew me away. I’m not much of an Urban fanatic, but this song was something you look for when trying to find a great partner, someone who’s strong when you just don’t have it in you, this is something you wish you could be for someone you love. I enjoyed the heart and strength of it.

Good storytelling always inspires us to be better, whether it’s in a song or in a book.

 

Break on Me — Keith Urban

Riser — Dierks Bentley

Die A Happy Man — Thomas Rhett

Broken Arrows — Avicii Featuring Zac Brown

 

 

 

 

Duuuude I’ve Finally Found The Words To Replace Profanity … Maybe

🙂

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Duuuuuuuuuude Have You Met This Person?

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Sending you an extra shot of grace just for this occasion.

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