Let's flashback a simple eight months ago, shall we? Eight months ago when 100% of my children were convinced that girls had cooties and were considered the spawn of Satan. Eight months ago when My Big One only cared about picking up a ball in whatever sports season it was and was graduating the big 5th grade. Sigh. Those were the days.
Now, let's fast forward to today when now only 50% of my children are convinced that girls have cooties and are the spawn of Satan. The other 50%? He has discovered girls and life as I know it is over. Which 50% am I referring to? Well I will give you a hint. It ain't My Little One.
It was all cute about 4 months ago when he sat down with me and decided he was going to ask a little girl to be his girlfriend. I got all excited. My baby was going to have his first little girlfriend! We talked about how he should do it, how he was going to handle it if she said "No" and had an all around good Boy to Mama chat. Presh.
Well that little girl said "Yes" but only lasted maybe 3 weeks. Meh, it was fun while it lasted. Still My Big One and his little friends constantly talked about "Who liked who?" And "Will you ask her out for me?" If one said "No" no problem! They would just move right on down the roster until one said "Yes." Mission completed.
About 6 weeks ago, My Big One found one he really really liked. He asked her to be his girlfriend, she said "Yes" and the child has giggled every since. You say her name, he giggles. Her name shows up on his phone, he giggles. He is now walking around in a cloud because of a gender that he would have swore a year ago needed a "Circle circle dot dot" shot.
Because of this recent development I have spent the last hour at Walmart because it is Valentine's Day Eve and he felt the need to find her the perfect card, to go with the perfect chocolates to go with the perfect Teddy Bear (holding a heart and all) Sigh. When did this happen? It literally happened overnight. They told me it would. They told me it would hit me like a ton of bricks. I laughed and told them they were crazy, not MY boy. I was wrong. My apologies. This child. This child who will only allow me to kiss the top of his head is the same child who "Middle School slow danced" with his girl at the Valentine's Day dance. This child who refuses to let me hold his hand in a parking lot anymore is the same child who kissed his girl on the cheek. You know what Mama would give for a kiss on the cheek out of the blue?! What is life? I am looking for answers here people! Send help. Again, sigh.
In other news, My Little One informed me that he didn't want any other girl to be his Valentine other than his Mommy. He then asked me to buy him a stuffed puppy dog so he could sleep with it and know I gave it to him. I bought him ALL the stuffed puppies and reiterated once again how little girls might possibly be evil and that he should just stay mine forever to be safe. He agreed. There is hope.
Sigh.
God Bless Mama's Who's Little Boys Discover Girls. And also America.
Monday, February 13, 2017
Sunday, February 12, 2017
No Room for Error: I'm Talking to Myself Here
Hello? Hello?! Is this thing on?? Can you hear me now??
It's been three weeks since I introduced this blog to the world. I'm sure you all have thought that I was a "one and done" type of blogger but I am here to tell you that you are incorrect. There hasn't been a night after I have said my prayers and before I went to sleep that I didn't think of what I could/should have wrote on my blog for that day. Why didn't I, you ask? Because if we are being honest it's been a rough few weeks on this ole gal. And it's been rough in every aspect of my life, work, home, gym/scale, you name it. But we all have those periods don't we? Those times when the hits just keep coming and about the time you think you get your feet back under you here comes another punch. And it's the little things isn't it? It's the little things that honestly beat you more than the big things. I have said a lot in the past few weeks to members of my tribe that it's like there is a fire lit. And before said fire dies out something else comes along and pours just a little gasoline on it to make it bigger. It might be a cup of gasoline, it might be a gallon, but it's gasoline on a fire nonetheless. So don't think that my little outlet here has slipped my mind. It's just sometimes it's hard to put "throwing gasoline on the fire of life" into words where you know people won't immediately send psychiatric help. (Which you know may not be the worst idea in the world. I'm kidding. Maybe)
Something people who know me through my life has always said is that I do things to the extreme. Everyone from my own mother, to my tribe to even my chiropractor. "Hello my name is Brittany and if I am going to do it I am going to do it to the extreme." Because of this cute little quirk I have it also means that there is no room error when it comes to me executing these things. Now don't get me wrong, the people that I see/interact with every day also have this standard to an extent. The Hubs and the tiny humans in my house, God Bless Them, I hold them to this standard to a degree as well. Not as much as I do as Extreme Brittany, but definitely to a degree. No room for errors. Errors are for the weak, for the people who don't have their life together. That's the definition in my head the majority of the time.
During these past trying weeks of gasoline on a fire, errors have occurred. And I was driving the big ole error bus. I lost something important at work. And it broke me. Broke. Me. You see, I don't do that. I don't lose things at work. I know where everything is and actually do my best to have it ready to go for someone before they even ask for it. If you are going to have something ready to go before someone asks for it, you kinda can't lose it. It broke me for a whole day. The something important totally could be fixed (and you can bet your rear end I fixed it) but the fact of the matter is, it was lost and I had lost it. Unacceptable in my mind.
Fast forward 24 hours. I had fixed the something important that had been lost, actually stopped literally sobbing over it, and could entertain the idea of speaking about it again. I am at lunch with a tribe member and she informs me that she is working through lunch the next day to attend her daughter's Valentine's party. We have children the same age. If her daughter is having a Valentine's party that means my son is too. Guess what? That is news to me. Brand spankin' news to me. My heart stops. I knew nothing of the party. It was February 10th for goodness sakes'. I had not prepared to attend. I had not prepared little Valentine cards for him to pass out to the little rugrats in his class. I was in no way prepared for him to take a cute little Pinterest Valentine box that I would make from scratch and it would be the grandest thing ever and he would be the most popular kid in school because he has the most awesome Valentine box. Was not prepared for that at all. Guess what this was? An error. I don't do errors (see definition above) Yet here I was again. Gasoline on a fire. Did it all work out? Yes. Did I run to Walmart and pick out the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Valentine cards and frantically text another mother to get the list of rugrats? I did. Did I work through lunch and attend the child's party? Yup. Did I make the Pinterest Valentine box that was going to make him the most popular child in 3rd grade? Nope (I bought the matching Turtle box because frankly you can't win them all) I fixed it. I made it. It was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't in my mind. I had messed up. I made an error. I had looked over the little half sheet of paper in the child's bookbag and had no clue there was a party. If it hadn't been for the tribe member I would have missed it completely and my child would have shown up with nothing. But I fixed it, right? It was all okay, right? Wrong. The thoughts start. "What else have I missed?" "What other error have I made that is going to affect my children?" "Why can't I get my crap together?" And again. I broke.
So I have been thinking about this whole "No Room for Error" thing. And how it absolutely exhausts me. I mean it is exhausting! It wears me to a point at times that I don't even recognize myself anymore. Because as I am working frantically to fix the one "error" I have let the ball drop on another aspect of life because I am broken over the first said "error" What do I need to work on? I need to work on telling myself that things happen. That important things get lost. That little half sheets of paper get overlooked in 3rd graders bookbags. That I will forget things. That I will screw something up. And that it will be okay. Like really it will be okay. Will someone point my error out to me? Yeah probably. Will it hurt like hell when they do because that is honestly just salt in my wound? Absolutely. But should I be okay with it "breaking" me every time? Absolutely not. I need to remind myself if I let these things that are going to happen that I lovingly refer to as "errors" that I cannot break. That in fact me breaking over an error is an even bigger error. I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and be thankful that most of the time I can fix it. Now my little naive mind knows that this is something that might be easier said than done. Right now I am programmed that way. I am programmed to not allow errors. But my hope is that if I can teach myself a little bit at a time that errors are GOING to happen, then maybe I can allow just that much more peace in my life.
That's what's on my heart tonight. We'll see what happens.
Until next time, God Bless America.
It's been three weeks since I introduced this blog to the world. I'm sure you all have thought that I was a "one and done" type of blogger but I am here to tell you that you are incorrect. There hasn't been a night after I have said my prayers and before I went to sleep that I didn't think of what I could/should have wrote on my blog for that day. Why didn't I, you ask? Because if we are being honest it's been a rough few weeks on this ole gal. And it's been rough in every aspect of my life, work, home, gym/scale, you name it. But we all have those periods don't we? Those times when the hits just keep coming and about the time you think you get your feet back under you here comes another punch. And it's the little things isn't it? It's the little things that honestly beat you more than the big things. I have said a lot in the past few weeks to members of my tribe that it's like there is a fire lit. And before said fire dies out something else comes along and pours just a little gasoline on it to make it bigger. It might be a cup of gasoline, it might be a gallon, but it's gasoline on a fire nonetheless. So don't think that my little outlet here has slipped my mind. It's just sometimes it's hard to put "throwing gasoline on the fire of life" into words where you know people won't immediately send psychiatric help. (Which you know may not be the worst idea in the world. I'm kidding. Maybe)
Something people who know me through my life has always said is that I do things to the extreme. Everyone from my own mother, to my tribe to even my chiropractor. "Hello my name is Brittany and if I am going to do it I am going to do it to the extreme." Because of this cute little quirk I have it also means that there is no room error when it comes to me executing these things. Now don't get me wrong, the people that I see/interact with every day also have this standard to an extent. The Hubs and the tiny humans in my house, God Bless Them, I hold them to this standard to a degree as well. Not as much as I do as Extreme Brittany, but definitely to a degree. No room for errors. Errors are for the weak, for the people who don't have their life together. That's the definition in my head the majority of the time.
During these past trying weeks of gasoline on a fire, errors have occurred. And I was driving the big ole error bus. I lost something important at work. And it broke me. Broke. Me. You see, I don't do that. I don't lose things at work. I know where everything is and actually do my best to have it ready to go for someone before they even ask for it. If you are going to have something ready to go before someone asks for it, you kinda can't lose it. It broke me for a whole day. The something important totally could be fixed (and you can bet your rear end I fixed it) but the fact of the matter is, it was lost and I had lost it. Unacceptable in my mind.
Fast forward 24 hours. I had fixed the something important that had been lost, actually stopped literally sobbing over it, and could entertain the idea of speaking about it again. I am at lunch with a tribe member and she informs me that she is working through lunch the next day to attend her daughter's Valentine's party. We have children the same age. If her daughter is having a Valentine's party that means my son is too. Guess what? That is news to me. Brand spankin' news to me. My heart stops. I knew nothing of the party. It was February 10th for goodness sakes'. I had not prepared to attend. I had not prepared little Valentine cards for him to pass out to the little rugrats in his class. I was in no way prepared for him to take a cute little Pinterest Valentine box that I would make from scratch and it would be the grandest thing ever and he would be the most popular kid in school because he has the most awesome Valentine box. Was not prepared for that at all. Guess what this was? An error. I don't do errors (see definition above) Yet here I was again. Gasoline on a fire. Did it all work out? Yes. Did I run to Walmart and pick out the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Valentine cards and frantically text another mother to get the list of rugrats? I did. Did I work through lunch and attend the child's party? Yup. Did I make the Pinterest Valentine box that was going to make him the most popular child in 3rd grade? Nope (I bought the matching Turtle box because frankly you can't win them all) I fixed it. I made it. It was okay. But it wasn't. It wasn't in my mind. I had messed up. I made an error. I had looked over the little half sheet of paper in the child's bookbag and had no clue there was a party. If it hadn't been for the tribe member I would have missed it completely and my child would have shown up with nothing. But I fixed it, right? It was all okay, right? Wrong. The thoughts start. "What else have I missed?" "What other error have I made that is going to affect my children?" "Why can't I get my crap together?" And again. I broke.
So I have been thinking about this whole "No Room for Error" thing. And how it absolutely exhausts me. I mean it is exhausting! It wears me to a point at times that I don't even recognize myself anymore. Because as I am working frantically to fix the one "error" I have let the ball drop on another aspect of life because I am broken over the first said "error" What do I need to work on? I need to work on telling myself that things happen. That important things get lost. That little half sheets of paper get overlooked in 3rd graders bookbags. That I will forget things. That I will screw something up. And that it will be okay. Like really it will be okay. Will someone point my error out to me? Yeah probably. Will it hurt like hell when they do because that is honestly just salt in my wound? Absolutely. But should I be okay with it "breaking" me every time? Absolutely not. I need to remind myself if I let these things that are going to happen that I lovingly refer to as "errors" that I cannot break. That in fact me breaking over an error is an even bigger error. I need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and be thankful that most of the time I can fix it. Now my little naive mind knows that this is something that might be easier said than done. Right now I am programmed that way. I am programmed to not allow errors. But my hope is that if I can teach myself a little bit at a time that errors are GOING to happen, then maybe I can allow just that much more peace in my life.
That's what's on my heart tonight. We'll see what happens.
Until next time, God Bless America.
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