Monster Hissy Fit

Hissy fits are a fantastic part of life.

They turn outings to the grocery store into memorable outbursts of embarrassment and feelings of parenthood failure.

Recently, one of my little buddies invited me to play monster trucks with him, I got lucky enough to pick up the Monster Truck called Hissy Fit. Upon discovery of that serpent-covered Hot Wheels, a traffic jam of memories rolled through my mind. The memories included meltdowns manufactured by my children, students, and even some of my own personal hysterics.

The hissy fit doesn’t have to come from a loved one.

The fit can sneak up on you from within.

I know that I have lashed out at my unsuspecting husband and children when they had no idea the emotion truck was about to roll into our house. It may have been stress from that day or lack of sleep from the previous nights, but I know I have made a demolish derby out of basic dinner conversation a time or two.

Not too long ago, when I was innocently teasing my daughter, she took her own emotional detour, and painfully for me Hubby turned with her. I was blindsided by their accusations that I always intentionally aggravate her. It hurt and left me shattered inside.

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What Color Is This Napkin?

Every day we are challenged to find optimism in life. Often the struggle to find opportunity is much more prevalent than the belief in limitless possibility. Thanks to a conversation I had about turkey dreams, my dear friend Amy helped me latch on to the challenge of finding inspiration in my dinner napkin. (Bet you never thought you’d read that sentence.)

So here’s the question: What color is this napkin?

A pragmatic person might say that this napkin has no color because the hue of white is defined as the absence of color.

I would say this napkin is the color of possibility.

There are endless ways this napkin could take on a different shade.

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The Cost of Frugality

When I was a kid, one of the most exciting parts of going back to school was new “school” shoes. In keeping that tradition alive, I always make a big deal about new shoes for my kiddos when shopping for school supplies. This year was no different, except for the fact that my 13-year-old refused to get new sneakers. His feet had outgrown every pair of shoes he owned, but it did not matter. He refused to even look at a pair of tennis shoes.

Normally, my son is a sneaker-head. He LOVES shoes, particularly basketball and baseball footwear.

When I asked him why he didn’t want new shoes, he said, “I’m saving you and Dad money.”

I then asked, “If I don’t buy you new school shoes, do you believe I won’t make you go back to school?”

He gave me a sly grin and said, “Maybe.”

He is ridiculous. His ankles were hurting. Due to the holes in his shoes, his toes had experienced multiple traumas. He complained of his knees aching. Never did he realize that it might have had something to do with his tragic choice of footwear.

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Is Twinning Really “Winning”?

When I invited my friend Katie to join in on my restorative sabbatical at a nearby AirBnB cabin, I packed good food, comfortable clothes, wine, and books. Not surprisingly, Katie packed similar supplies for our excursion. The most pleasant surprise though was found in Katie’s bag of books and magazines. Without prior discussion, my gal pal and I packed the same book, The Noticer by Andy Andrews. We were book twinning!

With millions of book titles in the world, it was kookie kismat that Katie and I independently chose identical titles for our escape.

“So what?” you might say. “What does book twinning have to do with anything?”

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A Big Butt Goodbye

Teaching kids about death is one of the trickiest tasks parents face. I believe we can help kids through the tough lessons in life by allowing them to be an active part of the grieving process. This invites our children to voice their individual ideas for coping and moving on after a loss. Sometimes we can find inspiration, comfort, and joy in the contributions of our kiddos while experiencing times of sadness.

My friend Mandy shared one particular experience that occurred when her son and daughter were younger. Their family had a kitten that was born with severe defects in its spine. The kids named the kitten Joey. As Mandy retold the tale, Claire interjected that the kitten had a really big butt. As kittens with severe defects will do, Joey crossed over the rainbow bridge to pet heaven soon after he was born.

When it came time to bury Joey, Liam asked what they were supposed to do at a cat funeral. Mandy wracked her brain and said, “I think we share the good memories we had with Joey and sing songs or say things that remind us of the happier times with him.”

Liam told Joey he would always remember carrying him around and playing with him every morning. Liam would never forget sweet Joey. When it came time for Claire to speak, she chose the happiest song she could think of and in her tiny toddler voice busted out, “I like big butts and I cannot lie…”

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Avoiding the World’s Fastest Shower & Squirrels

Frequently, I find myself announcing to my already-running-late family that I am going to take “The World’s Fastest Shower,” and then we will be out the door. 

I turn the faucet handle to start the water,  brush my teeth while the water warms, jump in the shower, and begin counting down from 100 like a crazed stopwatch challenging myself to get clean and get out in under 100 seconds.

This is insane.

I know.

The “World’s Fastest Shower” may freshen me up, but it fogs my focus and definitely puts a damper on my day.

Do you do this? Do you rush yourself through things that should make you healthier and happier for the sake of keeping up with your schedule? How fast do you eat your breakfast? Do you race through reading directions only to find you skipped a step because you thought it would save time? Do you attempt to take “The World’s Fastest Shower” thinking it’ll wash away the fact that you have too much to do but are too stinky to be around the other scurrying schedule-followers? 

I think we all do. We all give ourselves crazy countdowns for the sake of keeping up. Wouldn’t it be even crazier if we stopped?

For me, the answer to avoiding “The World’s Fastest Shower” comes from not wasting my time on the “squirrels” in the room. While we have actually had furry, four-legged squirrels in our rooms (A story for a later blog post), I’m talking about the proverbial “squirrels.” These are the “squirrels” that come in the form of an unopened email, a pile of laundry, a broken door handle, a dusty photo frame, or any other distraction that trips up our ability to stay on task. 

If I could just ignore the stuff that isn’t going anywhere (i.e. dust, laundry, broken door handle, etc.), I would not be on 10, 9, 8, 7…. as I frantically try to rinse the face wash out of my hair and scrape the hair conditioner off my face. Do you feel my pain?

Here’s the challenge to all of us: Avoid the need to hold the Guinness World Record for Shortest Shower Time by leaving the “squirrels” to nest on their pesky perches. Slow down for the sake of keeping soap out of our eyes and avoiding a wipeout as we try to stick the landing leaping from the shower to get dressed. 

If it helps, you can hang a “No Squirrels” sign on your mirror reminding yourself that you don’t need to alphabetize unpaid bills or sort the unmatched socks from the last six months before you leave. The more frequently we let the “squirrels” go and give ourselves time to get ready, the easier it will be to avoid the slip-ups and stress of disastrous dashes out the door. Intentergy is energy with a positive purpose, and I can’t think of a healthier way to get your purpose energized than starting off the day without letting the “squirrels” get in the way.

By: Melanie A. Peters

P.S. I looked on the Guinness World Records website and there were no entries for “Fastest Shower,” “Fastest Shower Taken,” or “Fastest Bath” listed.

Links to Happiness

I’ve never worked in a paper clip factory. I never thought about what it would be like to make paper clips all day long. I had not considered what it must be like to have a career solely based on those cartons of curved, organizational magic… that is until I opened my most recent box of paper clips.

Upon lifting the lid to a brand new box, I discovered a very long chain of clips connected to one another. Surely, this is not a normal product of the paper clip making process. Someone somewhere took the time to construct this impressive chain of fasteners. Perhaps their intent was to frustrate the recipient of the chain, or maybe its creation served to pass the time during an unfortunate shut-down at the plant, or it could be that the chain’s maker was just trying to make a connection with someone else in a unique way. Whatever the reason, I was now the intrigued owner of a very long paper clip chain.

When I showed my daughter, she said, “That’s cool, but now you can’t use those paper clips.”

“Why can’t I use them?” was my reply.

“Because then you wouldn’t have the chain anymore,” she stated and walked away.

I guess she was right. I needed a paper clip, not a chain of them, but there were Intentergy moments in those links.

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Swamped in a Hive

Have you ever tried to have a conversation with a parent who is inundated with the behaviors and requests of their children? It’s like trying to locate the queen bee in a hive of crazy. Nobody is concerned about or can comprehend what’s being said, focus is going in a million directions, and the constant buzz is enough to drive everyone in and outside of the hive crazy.

This past weekend I witnessed my friend, Jamie, at the heart of her own wild hive. We were hanging out at a friend’s shop, and for some unknown-to-our-children reason trying to have a conversation.

While Jamie balanced her son on one leg, her daughter traipsed passed walking her baby doll by the hair. Without warning, the baby doll leapt onto Jamie’s vacant leg and began marching up her arm and then rested on her head. Shortly there after, Jamie’s husband asked her about something he couldn’t remember, and she replied calmly with whatever he needed to know. Barely skipping a beat, Jamie continued on with our conversation. After finishing her sentence to me, she politely asked her daughter to take the doll to play somewhere else. Her daughter’s response, “But I need you to be my jungle gym.”

Well, there you had it.

Jamie was needed.

She was a comfy place to sit for her son, reference library for her husband, an apparatus for her daughter’s baby doll activities, and a hub of conversation for me.

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Monday’s Message – December 6, 2021

Happy Monday, everyone! In this week’s Monday’s Message, I just want to express thanks for everyone who read, commented, and sent kind thoughts our way after publishing The Colors of Change. Your support and faith for good things to come is greatly appreciated.

I’m excited to say that this week’s Wise Words Wednesday was inspired by my son’s homework for computer class and his surprising knowledge of Bible verses. Please be sure to check it out and hopefully find some peace and inspiration for yourself.

Additional inspiration was provided by my friend Jamie and her daughter Kate this weekend. So be sure to check out my post Friday on “….and All the Other Things.” If you struggle with the demands of being called to fill too many rolls, this post is for you.

As we are fully immersed in the holiday season, be sure to give yourself the gifts of grace and time. Know that you are not perfect, and that’s okay. You deserve time to be healthy, happy, and dedicate room for planning and coping with all that comes your way this time of year.

If you want to check one gift off your list, be sure to give the gift of Intentergy and put some positive purpose and energy into someone’s day.

By: Melanie A. Peters

P.S. Intentergy comes in everyone’s size.

Blessing the Dooley’s – A Tradition of Gratitude

At family gatherings, does your family segregate meals dividing its members between the “kiddie” table and the “grown-ups table”?

If your family does, this is a post for you.

If your family doesn’t, this is still a post for you because we could all use some blessings sent with good intentions (even if they didn’t start that way).

Dating back farther than my memory serves, my mother’s family has hosted all of its meals with separate tables for children and adults. As our legs and attitudes grew, my cousins and I lamented the fact that we were forced to dine at the “kiddie” table. My grandmother used to always tell us to be grateful because at least we weren’t like “the Dooley’s down the road.” Grandma would continue on with the story that the sweet Dooley family had ten (10) children and not enough chairs, so at meals they had to sit on the floor.

My grandmother also maintained the practice of saying, “And all for baby Jesus,” at the end of every meal prayer.

As a teenager, I maintained the practice of being a pain in my grandmother’s rear.

At one holiday meal where I feeling particularly disgruntled at my “kiddie table” status, (I’m sad to say I don’t remember the holiday or year), I followed up my grandmother’s closing blessing, “And all for baby Jesus,” with, “And God bless the Dooley’s. May they all have chairs to sit on.”

(Heaven help me. I was a pain.)

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