My son and I have been learning a valuable lesson together. We are learning anger management and the art of counting to ten. Mind you, he is 3 years old so learning to count is not out of the ordinary. He has known how to count to ten for some time now. I am 32. I have known how to count to ten for much longer. So it is not actually the counting we are learning. That we already know how to do.

I have been trying to teach Luke that when he gets very frustrated or angry (which is often in the life of a fiercely independent three year old), he can calm down by breathing slowly and counting to ten. What’s interesting is that after a week or so of lecturing Luke with the “breathe, count to ten” mantra, I didn’t really see much of a change in his behavior.

It is true that kids follow after what we do, not what we say. I was very intentional about teaching Luke this lesson in anger management for a week or so before I realized I needed to take some of my own advice. If I keep having temper tantrums and make excuses for my behavior and never try to change it, how can I expect any different from my child? When I get very frustrated or angry (which has been increasingly more frequent lately) I can count too. I can breathe slowly and I can count to ten. So having come to this realization, I am really making a conscious effort to be more calm.

Less yelling. More breathing. More counting.

Do you know? It already seems to be working! Today at dinnertime Luke started to throw a fit because I wouldn’t let him sip his fruit punch and walk at the same time (I didn’t try explaining to him that even grown adults can’t walk while chewing gum, so of course a toddler can’t do it while drinking). He started to flip out when I took the cup away but I remained calm. Before I even had a chance to say anything more he stopped, took one look at the floor and then at me and said, “Ten. {deep breath} Five. {another deep breath} Four. Three. One. Ten.” Then he continued his walk to the dinner table, sans fruit punch, completely calm.

I don’t even care that the numbers were out of order, I’m just proud and astonished that Luke was able to calm himself down like that. Of course he knows how to count to ten, but when one is about to flip their lid they can’t be expected to worry about the details.

My sister and I had a great conversation yesterday about letting go of things. I have long been an avid opponent of hoarding stuff, simply because it is a struggle of mine and I work hard to keep the clutter out. I recite the FlyLady and I watch those reality shows about hoarding and I see myself in those people. You feel like you’re drowning in stuff? You can’t seem to let it go? I have been there. I get it.

Why is it so hard for us to let go of our stuff? Why do we look at a ceramic bunny and get warm fuzzy feelings and our fingers clench? My theory is this: We are afraid of forgetting. We hold onto those memories for dear life. We don’t even know why. Why do we value those memories so highly? They are in the past. What does Yesterday have that Today doesn’t? Is Yesterday really all that special? Is Today really all that crappy? And does inviting Yesterday into Today really reap that much of a benefit? Does it really make us happy? I believe the answer is no.

The sad thing is that we can ruin Today by becoming so obsessed with holding onto Yesterday. In fact, when we clench so tightly the past we often let the present pass us by. Let’s learn to let go of the past and make room for today. Live in the moment. In the words of Flint Lockwood, “We’ve got some diem to carpe!”

And to quote an actual person who was actually wise: ?
“There are better things ahead than any we leave behind.” C.S. Lewis?”

My stepmom took this picture of my niece and I love it. Not simply because it’s a super cute picture, but because of the message I got the moment I laid eyes on it. I think it’s a great motivational poster. It says to me ”Aim high! Don’t settle for the easy road!” Or drinking fountain, if you’re taking it literally. It also says to me that if I’m not having to get on my tippy-toes to reach my goals, I’m not setting them high enough.

Always go for the tall spout.

I’m feeling a weird sense of anticipation lately. I’m not entirely sure what I’m anticipating, but I compare the feeling to when you have a friend who has been away for a really really long time and you start talking about the possibility of getting together again for a nice long visit. Or maybe not even a visit, maybe they’re coming back for good. You start remembering all the good times you had and you think about the cool things you always loved about your friend but had forgotten because so much time has passed. Remember how she used to always wear those sandals and toe rings and those super long skirts all the time even though they made her look frumpy? She used to talk about wanting to drive a Jeep Wrangler, or better yet a Mini Cooper. And I wonder if her favorite color is still red? Does she still listen to music? She used to love listening to music. She always seemed so organized, so focused. She used to talk about being a counselor or working with kids. I remember she used to always carry around this weekly planner and she would write in it what her goals were in life.

Whatever happened to that girl? Oh yeah, she is me. I may be different but I am very much still me. And while I like who and where I am now – I do not want to go back to where I was – there are pieces I left behind that I would like to pick up again if I could. Or am I just being too nostalgic? We can’t go back and recreate moments. It will never feel the same. The best we can do is hold onto the memories of the past and enjoy the moments we are creating now.

(Thanks to Unkie Mike for this gem) All I can say is this: I feel a lot more like I do now than I did before.

I’ve been a tad on edge lately. Very irritable. The slightest stresser would make me snap. To be blunt, I’ve been a bitch. It’s not pretty and I have to say, I don’t like who I’ve been. It really came to a head yesterday at the start of Luke’s birthday party. Mike was running around stressing about the food while I was running around stressing about the stress that was to come when people started showing up (stupid, right?). I was making some last minute preparations when I discovered that our cat had a wad of crap stuck to his butt. He’s a maine coon so his hair is thick and super fine. It happens, and when it does Mike is always the designated butt cleaner. So when I announced to him that Buster had poop stuck in his butt he just flipped his lid. I understand his reaction and I certainly don’t blame him, but at the time it was just the last straw. So I cried. And then retreated. I totally lost it.

It was my son’s birthday party and I was having a meltdown. I was able to compose myself and move on with the party and everyone, including myself, had a great time. But I was still thinking about it the next day. I just couldn’t shake it. It wasn’t so much about what happened, but WHY it happened. And why I’ve been such a bitch lately. What was wrong with me? And then I listened to Dr. Laura. I am not a big Dr. Laura fan, but I like to listen to her occasionally and I do agree with some of the things she says. Today she was talking with a caller who had issues with food, but more specifically with control. So the message was that you must not be a slave to your feelings. Control the food, don’t let it control you. Blah, blah, blah. I am not generally one to be ruled by my emotions but this time it sort of slipped by me. At yesterday’s party I completely let my anxiety get the best of me. And it wasn’t even the stress of the moment, most of it was the expectation of the stress. How stupid is that?

What I’ve discovered is this: I’ve been trying so hard to control everything and everybody around me that I’ve lost sight of controlling my emotions. As soon as that became clear to me I decided that my solution to my bitchy problem is to just let go of the need to control. I think it’s true that just the knowing is half the battle, because when I came home today I felt more at ease. Mike was at work so it was just me and the kids but the first time in a great while I didn’t feel like I had to “deal” with them. We just lived. We ate, we played, I put them to bed. No nagging Luke about every little meaningless thing, no wishing Natalie would just stop her fussing already (which she actually doesn’t do all that much). Forgetting about controlling the kids miraculously means I have more patience. And more patience with the kids means more patience with my husband. And patience and peace go hand and hand. And peace I can live with. Peace kicks bitchy right out the door.

Ever since this big hairy diagnosis of MULTIPLE SCLEROSIS I feel like everything has been all about me. I know this is a disease that can be managed, and so I’m spending a lot of mental energy and research (which I love by the way, I’m a Google Girl) on deciding how I’m going to manage it. It’s a lifelong disease, but I know if I take a lot of the right steps right now, it can mean the difference of years, decades even, of independence before the impending disability.

So. I feel like everything has been all about me and I’m kind of sick of it to be honest. I don’t want to be so self-focused and I’m ready to focus on other people. In the last week several of our friends and family have been affected by various bad news. Death, cancer, accidents, surgeries. It’s actually helping to take the focus off myself and it gives me things to pray for. I like having things to pray for, people to pray for.

So here is the question: Is it selfish to wish for bad things to happen to other people in order to help you become less self-focused? How sick is that?

Oh, the things you take for granted. Like walking, for example. I miss the way I used to walk. Before this latest MS exacerbation I had a nice, easy gait. Now I feel like I still have that Pregnant Waddle and walk real slow so as not to lose my balance. However, the key is I am still walking! So I need to appreciate that and not take it for granted.

Something else I take for granted: sleep. Trust me, I’m not getting much of it now with these newborn days and boy, do I miss it. I know it because last night I got 6 hours of uninterrupted sleep in a row, thanks to my amazing husband, and today I felt like a spring chicken. No kidding, all day long I’ve felt great! And when you get one good night of sleep after many many sleepless nights, you realize what a sweet thing it is. I have a new love affair with that fluffy down comforter.

I’ve never been interested much in the subject of history. In school I paid attention just long enough to pass the tests, so I didn’t retain much. I guess I just never understood the point of knowing history, even American history. The History channel just aired a fascinating series on World War II. It was graphic and sobering and informative, and it brought up a lot of questions for me but a lot of answers too. Why do I need to pay attention to American history? Because I do not have an appropriate amount of respect for what this country has been through. This is surprising if you knew that my dad is a huge World War II history buff. He can talk for hours about what he knows, but I never wanted to listen before now. I guess seeing the images and reading the statistics of how many people suffered and died just makes it impossible to ignore. And I wonder how our society today would be different if my generation and the generations after me really understood what people who lived through the 1940′s understand.

And what do those people understand that we don’t? That war is ugly. Horrific. But necessary – because there are people who are a kind of evil that you could never imagine. Veterans must understand this better than anyone, because they were there. They witnessed it firsthand. Nowadays we live in our happy little world, where a slumped economy is deemed a crisis and sends us into a tailspin. Does anyone even remember that we are still fighting in a war? Our loved ones are over there fighting for peace and we are worried about how we’re going to afford Christmas gifts this year. I don’t think we understand true crisis. I am speaking for myself here, so if you already have a keen awareness of the war and an appreciation for the soldiers I don’t mean to offend. I’m just saying I’ve been too naive and nonchalant about it all.

There is something else those people understand – the value of community. I am thankful to see that with this economic “crisis” we are learning to come together and lean on each other. I live in Michigan so I’m seeing this on a daily basis. However, even in Michigan we are only scratching the surface on the value of community. I’m fascinated when I hear about all the ways people came together and supported each other through World War II, or even the Great Depression. We still have opportunities to hear those stories firsthand from our grandparents, but there will come a day when those memories will be lost except for what we have captured on paper and film. So take the time to listen, to learn what the generations before us lived through. I’m willing to bet you’ll gain more than just a touching story. You just might gain a perspective that will change your life.

I don’t know if it’s because of life circumstances or what, but I feel like I haven’t been myself in a very long time. I miss Mindy. I had a glimpse of her today. I was just sitting in the living room, spending time with my husband and two children (I like saying that). Luke was being his usual precocious self and said something, I don’t even remember what, but I laughed out loud. And that’s when I felt it. She was back. Maybe not for good for now, but she definitely made an appearance.

Let’s hope she comes back to stay.

P.S. Maybe it would help if I stop speaking of her in the third person?

I heard this statement on the radio a few weeks ago and it keeps popping back into my mind:

“He who provides, controls.”

It’s true, really. The more I think about it the deeper it gets. The source of provision is usually the one in charge, whether we like it or not. When you have something someone else wants or needs, it gives you an element of power over them. For example: our son loves M&Ms. He also likes getting out of bed when he’s supposed to be going to sleep. But if you dangle a couple M&Ms in front of him he miraculously starts to comply. Once we learned this, we made sure to have a generous supply of M&Ms on hand. He who provides, controls.

When I heard that statement on the radio, the speaker was discussing the problems with universal health care and with the government promising to create and run all sorts of things. Do we really want the government to be our provider of health care? And more importantly, do we really think that the government is capable of providing for us? Protecting us? I think not.

I am a Christian. I believe with my whole being that God is my ultimate provider. Not the government, not my employer. God is the one who through all these years has made sure we have food, shelter, and a whole lot more. He is in control. And that gives me an awful lot of peace.