Attitudes get a bad wrap. It isn’t the attitude’s fault that we got grounded. It isn’t the attitude’s fault that we got the speeding ticket. It isn’t the attitude’s fault that we were misunderstood and left out in the cold to lick our wounds.
Why you ask?
Well, attitudes don’t choose us. We choose the attitude.
Just as we blame a tire for going flat, it isn’t the tire’s fault we drove over a nail or broken glass. It isn’t the tire’s fault that we drove it until the tread wore too thin. It isn’t the tire’s fault that your husband likes to gawk and spends more time driving on the rumble strips along that highway than he does between the yellow lines. 😉
Just as a tire that is neglected becomes flat, so do our attitudes.
I was in danger of suffering from flatitude when people started texting on cell phones. I wanted nothing to do with texting. I found it annoying, lazy, and a depreciation of the communication between members of the human race. My attitude towards texting was downright hostile. Continue reading “A Flat Attitude or “Flatitude””
There are days I really wish I had an instruction manual for life. There are days that I think I should write an instruction manual for how to NOT live. There are days that I am pretty sure I am not smart enough to follow an instruction manual (if I had one) to save my life.
We all feel this way sometime.
The best part of our imperfection is that we all suffer from it.
Our mistakes are part of the human condition and they are tools for personal growth.
The three steps to surviving imperfection are as follows:
(Unofficial Instruction Guide for Life)
- Be able to laugh at your mistakes
- Be able to learn from your mistakes
- Forgive yourself for making mistakes
Continue reading “Lacking Instruction – Wise Words Wednesday”
I can be pretty annoying sometimes. My occasional forgetfulness is bothersome but it REALLY bugs my husband when I point out the good in the failed efforts of others.
Someone may have just run their car through our fence, but I, in earnest, point out that they at least avoided our mailbox. The person who is blocking our lane of traffic to turn, when there is a turn lane, infuriates him; I mention that it’s a good idea to not dart in front of oncoming traffic. My son colors on the wall. Hubby freaks out; “At least he used the washable markers,” is my reply. (It’s really annoying. I know.)
Parents used to tell me at conferences they didn’t know how I could put up with “those kids.” Often times “those kids” were their own offspring. It was weird to me that they would not talk up the golden traits in their kids. Many parents would say they were being “realistic” about their children. I would point out that if you always tell your kid they are “bad” then being “bad” becomes their reality.
I still watch the morning news, even though the negativity kills me. The journalists drool at dropping headlines about failure, fighting, and fear but the feel-good, happy-ending stories are giving a 15 second spot and a quick commentator remark as the closing credits roll. Why is that?
Why is it so much easier to share the dirt on people than it is to find the gold in others? Continue reading “Be a Gold Digger”
via Daily Prompt: Solitary
I think I found where world peace should start…
After a long day of travel, we arrived at our rented, vacation cabin. We spent the evening checking out the lake and camp grounds, did some fishing, and tested out the kayaks. When the kids finally realized they were hungry, each began to gather smalls sticks to start our fire. Hubby purchased firewood from the local woodshed and got it going. I dug out the hotdogs, buns, marshmallows, and skewers.
The open-flame grilled dogs were extra delicious and the kids probably wasted more marshmallows than they ate, but it was fun to watch. When the camp fire and “roasting” things began to lose its appeal, the kiddos hopped in the hot tub. I cleaned up the meal mess. Hubby checked out the area map and brochure of attractions.
It was not until well after dark and the kids were tucked into their respective beds that I was able to do what I wanted on vacation…sit quietly.
There is something powerful and energizing in a camp fire. Watching the flames dance and hearing the logs crack you are fully award that in front of you is a living, breathing creature. Even though I was alone by the campfire, I could not feel lonely. Continue reading “A Fire All My Own”
Aren’t we all allergic to poison?
In “The Secret of Life of Pets” Max tries to avoid a bite from a one-fanged python by letting the other animals know he is allergic to poison.
This scene makes me laugh (really hard) every time.
The crazy thing is…we are all allergic to poison, but it seems we are way too willing to allow poison into our lives.
Poison comes in many forms. Negativity, guilt, shame, fear, and grudges are toxic to our happiness. Some suffer toxic relationships. There are physical poisons too, such as drugs, alcohol, and unhealthy foods. The crazy thing is we knowingly ingest that bad stuff. I try really hard to avoid the physical poisons. Drugs are something I have never done. But boy, do I like wine, chocolate, and fried chicken. (Hopefully my consumption of these is not too bad for me.)
When I was a kid, my mom put Mr. Yuk stickers on any products that were poisonous. That ugly, green guy told us to stay away or at least make sure we didn’t eat whatever yucky stuff was in those packages. Why don’t we have Mr. Yuk stickers for the emotional poisons in our lives? Continue reading ““I am very allergic to poison” – Wise Words Wednesday”
I don’t remember why I went to the linen closet. I was too surprised by the biscuit in the bath towels to remember what had guided me there.
After announcing that there was a biscuit in the bath towels, I saw a shy grin form on the face of my six-year old. “Mom, sorry. I left it there when I was getting my band-aids yesterday.”
This made me smile because the band-aid situation had been pretty funny too.
The previous day my son proudly made his way outside to play without wearing a shirt. There is just something liberating for little boys when they discover that they don’t have to wear a shirt in the summer time. Any way….
Our dog jumped up and scratched my son’s side. He came in showed me the battle wound. I asked if he would be okay and he said, “Yes, but I might need a band-aid.” I replied, “No blood. No band-aid.” Continue reading “There’s a Biscuit in the Bath Towels”
There are so many things I wish I could forget and even more I wish I didn’t.
As my 20th high school reunion looms, there are words, experiences, and embarrassments I wish I could forget. If I could just forget them, I would be free to worry about what I am going to wear, who is going to watch my kids, or how much older I look than I did in 1997.
However, the teenage angst I imposed on myself and the nature of teenagers made high school tough. So tough, in fact, that I purposefully kept distance from most everything I related to those four hallowed years. Those ugly emotions and insecurities held me captive for two decades. Sometimes I still have butterflies in my stomach, when I run into people from high school.
In the planning of our class reunion, Amanda (class president) hunted me down on Facebook and became my “friend.” I have always admired Amanda’s calm demeanor and terrific sense of humor, so I was like, “Cool. Amanda and I are friends again.” After I became Amanda’s “friend,” Amber, Angie, and Jennifer found me and we became friends again. Then I found Casey and Tamara, and we became “friends” again. I think you can see where this is going. Continue reading “Freedom in the form of Forgetfulness – Wise Words Wednesday”
The Joy of Overthinking – Wise Words Wednesday
Photo credit: bluntcard.com
What is the joy in overthinking?
Worry, overthinking, and stewing over things we cannot control; these are all bad habits. I am guilty of doing all of these. It stinks. There is no joy in overthinking.
There is no joy in guilt.
There is no joy in worry.
There is no joy in stewing over things we cannot control.
Recently, my husband asked, “So why are so worried about it?” (I really should not have been worried about the situation.) My genius reply went something like this, “Because I want to.”
The question I should have been asking myself was, “What joy comes from worrying about this?”
The answer would have been simple. “None.”
If there is something in your life that you cannot control or guilt that you feel for the actions of others, ask yourself, “What joy comes from worrying about this?” Continue reading “The Joy of Overthinking – Wise Words Wednesday”
Walking Between the Drops
The ability to walk between rain drops was a mystery explained to me in the 5th grade. Only angels can walk between the drops.
Between the church and elementary school I attended, there was a parking lot. On Tuesday and Friday mornings, all of the school children attended mass. On rainy days we would dash across that parking lot from school to church and back again.
From underneath the overhang of the rectory, Msgr. Huels used to taunt us with, “Only angels can walk between the drops.”
I never understood the meaning behind this jeer, but I knew I really wanted to be able to walk between those rain drops. I was secretly scared of Monsignor. His gravely voice and demeanor intimidated me.
In the spring of my 5th grade year, one of my classmates (who was not afraid) returned Monsignor’s taunt with, “Nobody can walk between the drops!”
I didn’t want to get wet, but I was also too scared to move away from the scene.
The growlly voice of the old priest snapped, “Those rain drops tell me who the little devils are.” Continue reading “Walking Between the Drops”