I have goals. I bet you do, too. I want to be someone that I can be proud of. I want my actions and my speech to reflect the person I mean to be, not the stressed-out, scatter-brained maniac I sometimes turn into. I want to be patient and loving with my children, not the mom who thinks, “Oh My God is that really the 15th time you’ve whined that you want caaaaaaaaaaandy?!”
Here’s the thing. I stress myself out. My husband helps A LOT around the house and with the girls. He’s a nice person. He’s not obsessive or demanding. My children are just children. They are demanding, but they are 4 — sort of goes with the territory.
I know all of this. And yet . . .
I’m stressed out. My day job isn’t what I dreamed it would be and I feel a little trapped. Other than that, though, my life is good. Really good. Crappy things happen sometimes (like February), but compared to a lot of people, I’ve got it really good in more ways than one.
I know this. And yet . . .
I think I just needed to hear it again — to write the words and know they are true. To imagine all of you reading this and thinking, “I’ve been there,” or “Quit your whining and get on with it,” or “Okay, pity-party’s done.”
I am grateful to all of you for reading this blog, for leaving comments, and for emailing and tweeting me. I promise brighter days ahead.
I’m off to try on my new outlook.











