When I worked, I dropped the kids off at the school’s before care. I noticed by the sign in sheet is a small metal bucket filled with mints. A note on the front reads “CHOOSE HAPPY.”
Every time I’d pop a mint after signing in the kids and head to my car, a smile on my face.
It really is a choice, isn’t it?
Every day I wake up I have a choice.
- I can be pissy that I hurt and that it takes a good 20 minutes for all my joints to warm up.
- I can be glad that I woke up to another day.
Either way, I still have the pain and stiffness. The only thing I can change is my attitude and my outlook. I’ve done the “pissy” bit. Not fun. It’s also exhausting, and I really couldn’t stand myself that way.
From now on I’m choosing happy. Continue reading “Choose Happy”
My kids started tee ball last month and absolutely love it. Last week, though, the coach was out of town and asked for a volunteer to help organize the game and team pictures.
I said No. I have no experience with tee ball (or any other ball for that matter.) Another parent stepped in.
A few hours before the game, I managed to sprain my foot. I iced it, wrapped it, and hobbled off to watch my boys. The parent who took over asked me, limping and grimacing in pain and all, to help out. Continue reading “The Power of No and Spoon Preservation”
My body isn’t behaving the way I want it or expect it to, and that’s a real struggle.
A prime example is what happened Saturday. I worked a short (and mercifully easy) shift, then came home and changed my clothes. The goal was to get my kids out of the house for a few hours and to give my husband a break. The boys and I loaded into my car and drove to a playground. To my joy, they had painted hopscotch boards.
Back in middle school I was a hopscotch queen. I’d spend all recess with my girlfriends playing. I could hop a board in no time flat.
Well, now I’m 41. And then there’s the added nastiness of my kidney failure and the breath stealing anemia. I temporarily forgot how sick I was, until I completed half my turn. My kids were watching, and I had to finish, but I did it while gasping for breath. Continue reading “Finding My “New Normal””