Outer Order = Inner Peace

I am working on testing the theory that outer order can bring inner peace. Not that I am completely lacking inner peace, but I could always use more. Nor am I so completely disorganized that I can not function, but once again, most of us could be a bit more organized as well. In order to reach my goal I have decided I need my house to look like it is on the market to be sold, all the time. Yes, I am staging my house, but not selling it. The clutter is slowly but surely disappearing. This time I am not just moving the clutter from one place to another, like some people do when company is due to arrive. No, I am going finding place for everything, and sometimes (more often than not) the place is the garbage can. However, standing between me and my perfectly staged home is a disease. Yes, a disease. An affliction. I have a horrible, awful, non-communicable disease. I am afflicted with flat surface disease. If I see a clear, clean, flat surface, I have an urge, no a NEED, to put something on that clean, flat surface. Mail, books, glasses, keys, you name it I will put the item on a clean flat surface instead of its rightful place. It is a sickness. The last few weeks I have been fighting my inner clutter demon. Forcing myself to file or shred papers. Coaxing myself to shelve books and putting my keys in a special bowl, just for my phone and keys. It has been torturous. Unlearning clutter-making attacks every fiber of my being. No, I have never liked the clutter, but it is a hard habit to break. However, I have noticed, when I go to bed at night and the counters and end tables are tidy, I feel a certain satisfaction with myself...perhaps even some additional inner peace. And each day I can honestly say I am waking up to a fresh, clean, start to the day.

Positivity, DCN's, & Laughter

Today I am writing to cheer myself up. I caught myself having a pity party over the little potholes on my road called "life". I tried to use positive thinking to turn pull myself out of the pity pool, but more often than not anymore I need to write in a journal to really distract me from myself. So today I am blogging my journal, since I am pretty sure I am not the only person on the planet that can get caught up on the little stuff. My son often reminds me of this because he has been known to make the statement, "I am feeling a little glum". Yes, at the age of seven he says "glum". He is his mother's child and tends to make less common vocabulary choices. Anyway, we all get a little glum and the only solution is to focus on the positive. However, when making laps in the pity pool it is often hard to get positive. It is a real conundrum. Thus, I write it all out, or at least the really nagging things, and then I look on paper and see that really my life is not in Suckville, or even in the same county. Then I am not so glum. Sometimes.

If the writing it out does not stop the gloom and negativity, I head right to the DCN's. What are DCN's? (You know you are wondering) DCN's are Dinosaur Chicken Nuggets. Now you are wondering, what the hell does that have to do with anything? Well, DCN's (you just say the letters, never the words) are exactly what my kids requested for lunch a few days ago. I was not clued into the lingo, so it when something like this...

Daughter: Hey, umm, we were thinking some DCN's would hit the spot.
Me: Umm, first of all who is "we" and second what are DCN's?
(insane laughter from son (who is in another room) & daughter)
Son: (yelling from another room) DINOSAUR CHICKEN NUGGETS.
(more laughter from them, and now from me)

Thus was born the DCN phenomenon. It is just a funny thing to hear, and fun to say, and even tasty to eat (occasionally). We do not really have DCN's in the freezer regularly, which makes it even funnier that my kids have taken to calling this food by its initials. It makes me laugh every time I think about it. Yes, it is ridiculous. No, it probably is not funny to anyone else in the world except the four people that live in my house. The point is everyone has a DCN in their life. Something funny that can bring a smile to their face, and a lightness to their heart. Life needs these little things that keep us from taking ourselves too seriously, or to encourage us to get out of the pity pool, dry off, and get on with life on a more positive plain.

Never Forgetting

Today is September 11, 2011. Ten years since so many lives were horribly cut short, and it seems all Americans lives changed that very sad day. Today, ten years after the fact, with so much media coverage of the opening of the memorial and the remembrances of those who were lost, I had the opportunity to talk to my kids about what happened and why 9/11 is significant and part of our national history.

My daughter was had just turned two in 2001 and my son had not yet been born. So for obvious reasons neither had much of a concept of what happened or why. Seeing video replay of the World Trade Center under attack today was the first time either one had seen the horror. (I did not let my two year old see the constant coverage 10 years ago, not knowing what her little growing mind would retain) They both had questions. What happened? Why would a plane do that? Who would do that? Pretty much the same questions I had ten years ago. So over lunch we talked about terrorists, Osama bin Laden, and the resilience of the American spirit. Do they understand now? No. I do not think I ever will either. However, they do understand that we, as Americans, can never forget, nor can we live in fear.

Resetting

Hello Stranger. That is how I felt when I logged on to blog this little ever so brief entry. I actually had to reset my password, because I had something clever that I would never forget as my password. However, I guess it was not clever enough. So now that it is reset I can begin. Strangely, my whole post is about "resetting". Not passwords, my life. It seems I have become caught in the morass of others' lives, and now I am struggling to see where I am in the whole picture. Thankfully, when I was talking to a friend earlier today, she is also in the same place and looking to "find what is hers". I am blessed to be in such good company in the "inner turmoil" struggle. Starting on September 6, 2011, my goal is to find my "thing". What this "thing" may be I have no clue. So I will be doing some soul searching, praying, and perhaps more soul searching, as I look to reset me.

September 6 is not a completely arbitrary date, it happens to be the first day of school. So it is somewhat logical.

Ex-People Pleaser

Hello, my name is Allison and I am a neglectful blogger. Sorry. However, apologies aside, I have had a breakthrough. Yes, a breakthrough, like people have in therapy, except I am not in therapy, this came through my own personal evolution and frustration. So here it is, I don't care. Yes, I realized through a series of recent events that I no longer really care what others think of me.

What?
She does not care?
How heartless!!!

Now to clarify my new, "I do not care" attitude. This does not apply to my family, and close friends. I will always care what those closest to me think about me. I love them and they matter. I also love myself enough to not let "others" opinions effect me any longer. This attitude applies to the "others". I no longer care if my children's' friend's mother thinks I am lovely or a complete witch. I know who I am. I am good mother, and decent person. So I do not need to conform to any standards set by others. The best part of my new mindset is no longer having to tolerate annoying situations. Prime example, carpools with kids that are obnoxious. If the parent is able to drive their child somewhere and is only asking me to drive so they can get out of driving, I am saying "No, we will see you there". I am not heartless, I will drive if it is schedule issue or car trouble, but just so "we can all go together", forget it. I do not have to deal with banal conversation while someones kid tears up my vehicle (and the parent ignores the behavior). Not happening anymore. My kids are well behaved, and properly threatened with consequences for poor behavior, before they enter another persons home or car, so they always are respectful. If others are not going to teach their offspring to act civil or face consequences, that is their problem. I do not care, I am not dealing with it. Bottom line, I am done being a "people pleaser", because it is unpleasing to me.

I know my new outlook is not going to be well received by many, luckily I don't care. Those nearest and dearest to me know that this was inevitable. I have said, "yes" and agreed to some pretty unbearable situations for too long. I was bound to either break or put my foot down. Now the foot is down. People pleasing is something unique to women. I have not often run into a man that is overly concerned about what the peripheral people in their lives think about them. Good job men, I am proud of you for not caring. Not that you care what I think. Likewise, I don't care that you don't care. See? This is fun already.

Happy Mother's Day!

Snow in April? (that sucks)

The title pretty much sums it up. The kids are off for their Spring Break and it looks like we can grab the sleds out of the rafters in the garage. That is just wrong. I feel like this month is suffering from schizophrenia or perhaps bipolar disorder. I am not a licensed medical professional, but I know that this constant shifting in temperature is not good for our collective psyche or our health. As a seasonal allergy sufferer this time of year is unpleasant enough for breathing freely. The only good thing is seeing the grass get greener and the trees gets little buds of leaves. Yes, the grass and pollen are my krypton, but they are pretty, colorful enemies. A fresh coating of snow is the last, LAST, L A S T thing we need. I know Michigan is famous for its fickle weather, but this month has been extreme and ridiculous, even for Michigan. Last Sunday is was in the 80's and the kids were asking to get sprayed by the hose while we were doing some outside clean up. Fast forward to today, one week later, upper 30's and winds that cut right through to the bone. My poor dog could not keep her ears from flapping in the wind on our walk. Okay, I will admit I was very entertained by the ear flapping, but she was not. Yes, this is a rant. However, I will tell you I feel better just writing it all out. However, I may engage in some primal scream therapy when I am shoveling my driveway, IN APRIL!!!!

Campaign for the 25 Hour Day

I am not sure how I am going pull this one off, but I am lobbying for an added hour to the day. I currently max out each of the 24 hour days I am given. I will admit that I still sleep, so perhaps I could get more out of a day if I quit sleeping, but that seems unwise, a bit painful, and down right dangerous for those who have to deal with me on a daily basis. Since my chosen vocation is that of a "professional volunteer" it would seem I could tailor my schedule to permit more free time. However, the professional volunteer business is booming. Many of the things I spend my time on really do not benefit me, but if it makes someone I love smile or feel better, I can't say no. Likewise, if it is for a cause or organization that I am passionate about I would rather share my talents with that group than just have some good old fashion downtime. Yes, that is a bit silly. Yes, it is also draining. Yes, it makes me crabby sometimes. Thus my appeal for an extra hour a day, all my own. The 25th hour will not be an hour to be shared, but an hour to personally consumed and savored for personal use ONLY. If I get my additional hour, I swear I will only use it for myself. Reading, exercising, writing, and painting nails are some of the top activities that would fill my hour. Those seem like a good balance between frivolous and personally enriching. Not wanting to disturb the laws of space and time for the rest of the universe, you too will have an extra hour to play with as you please. I am proud to head up this campaign for all of us. No thanks necessary, your personal enjoyment is thanks enough. So, what would you do with your extra hour per day?