Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
Yeah, I know. It’s kind of a cheesy quote. But have you ever really thought about what it means?
I’m having some trouble finding my balance lately. I’m getting tunnel vision- I’m only seeing what my goal is and it seems so far away and I want it so bad… and I am stressed. I have not been enjoying myself or my life lately.
That’s not to say that I’m doing badly in my classes (I am kicking ASS actually) or that I’m going to quit, because that’s not it at all. I just need to relax and enjoy what’s happening around me as I work toward my goals.
My kids are already six and four. Already, half a decade has flown by. I know that one day, all too soon, I am going to be helping them pack their things for college. I do not want to look back on their childhood and discover that I wasted the time I had with them, stressing over classes (and eventually over work).
- Patience. I am not a patient person. I am definitely not patient enough with my kids. I really, really need to work on this. I detest when people are impatient with me, so why do I let myself do that to my kids? I need to slow down, plan better, and just breathe. I need to let them try to do things on their own, even if it takes twice as long.
- Enjoying life. I actually have, on my office wall, “enjoy life”. Yet I often find myself unable to live in the moment. My son will want to snuggle up on my lap and yet all I can think about is some homework I have due. My daughter wants to help knead the bread dough but all I can think about is getting the bread made so I can move on to studying. The thing is, they’re not always going to want to sit on my lap or help me with chores. I know this. I know they’re going to become tweens that despise me and teens that are too cool for me, and then they’re going to leave. So the thirty minutes my son wants to spend on my lap are just a mere drop in the bucket of my life. And considering the fact that I am 30 and I still have a great grandma that is alive and another that only recently passed, I’m fairly sure I’m going to be on this earth for a good long while. Yes, I do have twenty minutes to spare to show my daughter how to knead bread.
- Don’t sweat the small stuff. Another cliche that actually means a lot. When there are four baskets of laundry that need folding, the floors are filthy, I need to pay the bills, the kids are fighting and one has just spilled his/her juice, and I have hours of homework to do… well, I get overwhelmed. I stress. I snap at my husband and kids. I get angrier than I should over such small things. I need to remind myself that everything will get done. And I can’t be afraid to ask for help. I know my husband is more than willing to help out, and there are others that would as well if I asked. Stressing or feeling overwhelmed are not signs of weakness. Everyone has days where they feel like a superstar and days where they feel like they’re drowning. I’ve just got to learn how to handle the drowning days a bit better.
In case it’s not readily apparent by this point, I’ve had a rough day today. I was not appreciating life this morning. I believe I even asked my husband, between sobs, “why can’t I be happy?” I realize that the answer is me. My happiness is in my own hands. And it’s not a place to arrive at- it’s a way to be.
I’m back from Wyoming. I survived! But only barely…
Tim had a mine rescue competition for work there, and his team did fairly well- fifth place out of twelve. We spent the week in Gillette. It was sort of a boring week for me and the kids because Tim had to work a lot of it, but the hotel had a really nice pool so we swam quite a bit and I read two whole books on my kindle (LOVE IT!). Oh and we had a free day on Wednesday.
So, guess where we went?
 I’ve always wanted to see it. Unfortunately, I think I was having a caffeine crash while we were there. I drank about 3 million ounces of coffee and energy drinks that morning because I was super tired, and then once we got to Rushmore, I started shaking and sweating and feeling dizzy/faint.
Like, seriously, I was sweating. It was unladylike.
I don’t even think it was 80 degrees out and yet the front and back of my shirt were wet. There was sweat dripping off of me onto the ground! Yeah, I’ll just shut up now before I make you all barf…. but it was really gross. And uncomfortable. I was pretty sure I was going to pass out for a while there. I think Tim even asked me if I was having a heart attack. I must have looked spectacular.
AND THEN the kids… omg. They are just too little to appreciate things like this apparently. THE. WHOLE. TIME, from the moment we got out of the car, all we heard was “I wanna go back to the hotel and go swiiiiiiiimmmiiiinnnggg” and “I don’t wanna be here!”
Let me tell you: the whining was not helping my caffeine crash mood at all. I believe at one point I threatened to put a ‘free to a good home’ sign around their necks and set them loose into a crowd of tourists.
And then after we left Mt. Rushmore, we went to Deadwood, SD (where Wild Bill Hickok was killed) which was pretty and old-west-y (what? It’s probably a word) but very touristy and would have been really fun if some dude in a van hadn’t almost run over me.
Seriously, you guys. I can’t even make this stuff up.
So basically, it was the worst day ever. But Mount Rushmore was really cool. Oh, and then we took a wrong turn leaving Deadwood and found a winery that had a free tasting, so that practically made up for my almost becoming roadkill.
I love my husband, he’s just so very different from me! Maybe that’s what makes us work, we are complete opposites. Let’s be honest here, if I was married to someone like me, I’d probably strangle them. I am very… we’ll say enthusiastic (read: dramatic). I’m often hyper and I pretty much never shut up.
Tim is calm and laid-back and quiet.
Where I over-express opinion and use words like fantastic and fabulous and amazing way, way too often- he is way more reserved. I’ll make this fabulous (see?) gourmet meal that took 8452 hours of prep work and tastes like food-orgasm and he’ll be like “Yeah, it’s good,” and then I’m all, “GOOD?! That’s like one step above average!!” because I want him to be like “WOW THIS IS AMAZING! I have reached my food pinnacle, eating will never be the same again!” But then if he actually said that, I’d probably be like “WTF… who the hell ARE you?”
So anyway, when I spent the entire day yesterday organizing the office, I pretty much thought that I deserved a standing ovation, or a metal of honor, or like… a cookie. Tim walks into the office. He grabs something off my (now-clean) desk and walks back out, past me standing there looking all baffled and is like “what?”.
“‘WHAT?!‘ DID YOU EVEN NOTICE THE OFFICE OMG?!”
“Oh. Yeah. It looks nice,” he says and continues walking.
I’m going to assume that in Tim-Speak, “it looks nice” actually means “Wow, you worked really hard, this looks great! I don’t think anyone has ever organized an office as well, especially while taking care of two children. Too bad you made dinner, I wanted to take you out! You’re the best and prettiest wife ever!!!!” Close enough.
Twenty-one days til we leave for vacation!
Uh. This is off topic and unrelated but this is probably a bad thing: but I just had to look at the calendar to count that down, and then realized that today’s our anniversary. Six years! Our gift to each other was our trip to Reno, though, which we did early for two reasons- the main one being that Tim is working today and wasn’t working two weekends ago. Also, my parents are in Reno this weekend and we needed them to babysit. So in my mind, our anniversary has already passed. Perhaps I should get him a card. I totally just texted Happy Anniversary to him though, so we’re probably good.
So anyway, back to what I originally meant to write about- vacation! I am so excited! We are flying in and then renting a minivan. We didn’t rent a car last time and every time all of us went somewhere I had to ride in the trunk. No, for real. Ok, well, in the ‘cargo area’ behind the backseat. Which, of course, is not exactly safe and/or legal. Or comfortable. So I got all snotty with Tim and demanded we rent a minivan this time, even though it’s like a billion dollars. WHY WAS THIS EVEN AN ARGUMENT?! I could have died. Yes, I am this dramatic in real life most of the time. It’s probably been a long six years for Tim. ANYWAY we are renting a billion dollar minivan and my neck will not hurt, I will not wind up with mud on my butt from my own shoes, and if we wreck, I might actually survive it, yessssss!
SOOOO twenty-one days to lose like thirty pounds. See the problem here? I need to go work out now. And not stop til December 18th.
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