What I know about: Bottling it Up

Nice title right... Quite contradictory to my regular posts of hope and vision. But here in my era of honesty I have a point to make.

I have been angry for the past couple of weeks, sometimes just mad for no reason at all. I recognize the anger as unproductive, baseless, and probably manageable if I just took the time to manage it.. but I haven't. I have been pushing back every time I am pushed, and that is not like (the new) me at all.

Then on my way back from the car dealership the other day I realized why I was not managing my anger as well as I once had been.

For the longest time, I had been carrying this cute little stripped spiral notebook with brown recyclable paper pages, and an elastic band that held it shut. It was just small enough that it fit in a handbag easily. I took it everywhere. It held meeting notes from work, and church notes form services, and journal entries that I made when I was mad or sad or happy for that matter.

So the last time I was at the dealership I wrote a fax number in the book and handed it to the woman who had been handling my paperwork. She forgot to bring the notebook back to me, then I left. When I went back she reminded me about the notebook. She said "You know you are not getting your notebook back, right?" Then she went on to explain how she had read the notes, and been inspired by the church notes and writings. She said she had been reading one page in the notebook every day. It was inspirational to her.

I have NO idea what I wrote in that thing that could be that inspiring, but if it is a blessing to her I want her to keep it. However it was on my way home from that exchange that I realized what was missing for me.

In a post last year I mentioned to you all that when I have things going on in my life I tend to write them down instead of bottle them up. Leaving the worries on the paper was helpful to me in moving past whatever negative emotion was holding me back. During the tough times I would write every day, and when those times passed I did not need to write so often.

I have not been following my own advice.

So yesterday I went and bought a new notebook, and I am about to start letting it out again. I am sure that everyone who has been around me in the days since I lost my book will be happy.

I Think: This Is What It's About?

This Is What It's About?
By: Mia L. Black
12/18/07

I woke up on Sunday morning to the soft cooing of our 19 month-old daughter down the hall in her crib. My eyes flickered and I turned to roll over to my snoring husband, only to hear, "ouch" from our six year-old daughter, who had snuck into the bed in the wee hours of the morning. I apologize for elbowing her and relay that I did not see her, only to be interrupted by a loud, "Mooomeeeee" from down the hall. Apparently our voices had traveled and now she wanted to be included in all the fun. It was going on nine o'clock as I swung my feet out of bed. I had actually gotten to "sleep in."

I stepped into the hallway and caught a glimpse of my daughter facing me with arms in the air, ready for me to scoop her up. My major dilemma at this point came down to, do I go pick her up, change her, and let her begin her day, or do I make a quick pit stop at the bathroom and listen to her scream and cry as I disappear from sight? I opt for the latter. No sooner do I get into the bathroom...the wailing begins. The door is wide open, I try to soothe her as I finish my business and wash my hands. Meanwhile, my husband still lay at rest and my six year-old is standing in the doorway giving me the second to second update of her sister's tantrum. Mind you I have only been up for four minutes.

I get the kids situated, fed and begin dinner. Because I am going to make a beef stew and crock pot it all day, I want to turn it on for at least six hours. What should take about twenty minutes from beginning to end, takes me close to forty-five. I have opted to only get involved in my daughters' arguments if they become physical. Unfortunately for dinner that happened three times....all the while, my husband lay at peace in the bedroom. I finally finished dinner preparation and tried to figure out what I would eat for breakfast at about eleven o'clock. I made me and my husband breakfast, which of course made my daughters hungry again. As we were finishing our breakfast (going on noon) I had the idea to write this exact blog. My husband said he would take care of the dishes and put the baby down for her afternoon nap. With the girls sharing a bedroom, nap time means our oldest must remove everything she wants to play with before the baby goes down. This usually means all of her toys take over my living room.

I get to my couch, coffee in hand and pull my laptop out. I check my emails and try to formulate in my head what I am going to write. I kick out my first sentence and my daughter leans on me to view what I am writing. I know this doesn't sound right, but after about four times of telling her to stop leaning on me and go play, I wanted to just push her. Yes, I said it, a grown ass woman felt like pushing a six year-old. I was not able to get through three more sentences with any type of flow, because every time she moved I would punch the wrong key. I spent more time correcting than I did typing. Meanwhile, my husband had gone back to bed. As I complete my first paragraph, she now tells me she wants lunch. I am so annoyed at this point, that I tell her to go tell her father.

Finally peace.I reread what I have typed and erase it all. Not at all where I wanted to go with the story. Two minutes into my peace, I can hear my daughter running towards the living room. "Mommy, Daddy said come quick into the kitchen. He's not even playin'. It's really an emergency." She retreats. I close my computer down defeated. I make the decision not to jump right to my husband's rescue, but instead lean my head back and take a quick doze. Upon his messenger's second request, I drag myself into the kitchen. My husband is wiping spillage around the crock pot with my good hand towel. This is the emergency? I think to myself. How could this be an emergency? I'm only glad I came into the kitchen when I did, after he tells me what he was going to do to our dinner. He was going to dump out all the "juice." I'm thinking "juice?" You mean you were going to dump out the stew? I repot the stew and save dinner.

My daughter goes and eats her lunch and I begin my blog again. Again my husband returns to bed. At this point I begin to think, is this what it's all about? Is this life when you have no plans? If not for the horrible weather, we probably would have gone shopping or to go visit someone, but I had no plans. I wasn't pulling the family out into the storm. So now all four of us are stuck in the house, all trying to do our own thing, but I seem to be the only one jumping to everyone's rescue. Because no sooner am I a paragraph into my blog, when our youngest wakes up. I try to outwait my husband, but he is not trying to budge from his rest. All the while our six year-old is running to each one of us, to announce that her sister is awake. I finally get up annoyed and stomp to our daughter's room. I peak up the hallway to see my husband act as if he is going to get out of bed. I kiss my daughter, take her out of her crib, and bring her and a new diaper to my bedroom. I drop them off and turn to leave the room. I stumble over my six year-old because since I left the living room, she has been inches from me.

She follows me to the bathroom and I gently push her back from the door, and proceed to shut and lock the door behind me. I don't have to go to the bathroom, but it is the only door that has a lock. I sit on the toilet and hear my daughter cry outside. A minute goes by and the crying is joined by, "Moooooomeeeeeeeee". I'm not sure how much time passed until they realize I wasn't coming out. But I finally won when I heard the sweet sound of victory, "Daaaaadeeeeeee." I smile and listen to him tell them to go find me. They tattle and relay I am locked in the bathroom. My victory is short lived because then I have all three of them on the other side of the door trying to get in. Again I question myself, is this what it's about? Is this what my life has come to? Locking myself away from my family? In the bathroom at that?I summon up the courage and unlock the door. I look into hurt confused faces and try to step around them and make my way back to the living room. Before I take a second step, my husband wants to know what is wrong, my six year-old tells me she is going to poop and will need help wiping herself, all the while in the background, "Mommy, Mommy, Mooommmeeee."

I somehow feel like a bad mom, because I have done nothing with my family. I decide to make Christmas cookies. My husband finds a new location to do nothing, the living room with the football game. I pull out bowls, ingredients, and the mixer. I take the youngest into the living room and ask my husband if he can watch her while we make cookies. He doesn't budge and says yes. I don't even make it back to the kitchen before I hear a little pitter patter following me back into the kitchen. I go back and stand in the doorway and glare at my husband. He is completely dumbfounded and asks me "What?" He looks back at the TV and calls for our youngest. I manage to make the cookie dough and then have to deal with a meltdown with my daughter, because she doesn't understand why you have to refrigerate the dough after you make it.

By this time I want to fall on my face and I am checking the clock at three in the afternoon. Five more hours, just five more hours until bedtime. Again, is this what it's all about? Six hours in with these people and I'm already wishing it was their bedtime? But I won't allow them to break me, I press on and walk into the living room. My husband is getting on his shoveling gear and the kids are within inches of him. I've come to notice with these little people, there is no such thing as personal space. They have to be right on top of you. I decide to let them get a little energy out...I simply lie on the floor. I don't make it all the way down until they are on top of me. Laughing, giggling and having a ball at my expense, all because I am laying on the floor and they are able to sit, jump and play on top of me. My husband goes outside to shovel and I play as their jungle gym for the next twenty minutes.

I look at their happy faces and am able to answer my question with the question. Yes, this is what it's about. It's about being the occasional jungle gym, the referee, the cook, the refugee, the caretaker, the problem solver...all and all, it's summed up in two words, mother/wife. So it may be two days later that I am now getting the peace to write and post this blog, but these past two days with my family have been worth it.

I Think: The Battle is Yours

The Battle is Yours

By: Mia Black

When faced with an adverse situation, how do you let the chips fall where they may? Are you a person that welcomes conflict? Do you avoid it at all costs? Are you ever the cause? I've learned that in life we will have controversial situations on all levels, personal, professional, financial, spiritual...but in the end it comes down to how you resolve the conflicts facing you...or someone else?

I come at you today with a sense of peace that has long been missed by me. I have not felt so at peace with my life in probably over a year. And now within the past month, I don't know what to do with myself. Because I fall into the category of welcoming conflict. I get so caught up in it, that peace becomes awkward for me. And right now my home is at peace, my job is at peace, and I feel closer to God than I ever have. So now I'm diving into my friends' controversies and taking on the emotions as if the events are personally happening to me. You can see from my previous post how upset I am with my friend's mother. How dare I. Who am I?

Now I find myself becoming angry with this heffa that is trying to catch and attitude with my girl. That's right, I am name calling'. Why? I have no idea or right, but he acted in a manner that hurt my friend's feelings and has her second guessing her decisions. How dare he....okay and me again. I think it is just the fact that my friends mean so much to me that I don't want to see them get hurt and take it personally when someone has the nerve to hurt them.

So now I guess my self-controversy is, how do I embrace peace and and not make it my personal mission to tackle every adverse situation that has nothing to do with me? Answer is: I'm working on it. I'm trying to just listen and be the shoulder to cry on, rather than taking offense for grown-ass women that can handle themselves. I have resovled the conflicts that have faced me, with their help and the grace of God, but ultimately they have been true friends and alllowed me to live me life...fall when I've needed to, but they have allowed me to fight my own battles.

What I know about: Being Happy in the "NOW"

By Jennifer Texada (I have owed you this one for a while.

I get teased bit about my always upbeat demeanor, especially at work. In the office, sometimes things are a little stressful, with deadlines, and complaining customers and such. Many of my co-workers tend toward complaining. Sometimes, I don't blame them, people can be mean, and deadlines can be short. Believe me sometimes I want to give into the peer pressure and complain right along with them, but when I catch myself doing it, I stop. I always try to turn it around with a statement of solution, resolution or something positive.

Why?
Because "This is a day that the lord has made, I WILL REJOICE and be GLAD in it." It is as simple as that for me. So far there is nothing going on at the office, in my house or in traffic that is bad enough for me to give up my happiness for. The next statement I make, may be controversial. I personally believe that happiness is a choice.
There, I said it.
I believe that if you want to be happy, you can, just like if you want to be offended, or stressed, or mad, you can do that too. I have things in my daily life that have the potential to steal my joy, but it is up to me if I let it. If someone cuts me off and steals my close to the store parking spot I can honk scream, swear and let it ruin that moment in my life, or I can go find another parking spot, and walk a little further. Thank you God I have legs to walk and the strength to get from that spot to my destination.
I love being happy, and I will defend my right to be so. It took me a long time to get here. I fought my share of battles with depression and hurt, and stress. I spent years looking for happiness in men, friends, food and malls. Finally after quite enough of that, I figured out that I can be happy if I want to be, no matter what. Even if there is something I lack at the moment, I refuse to let it steal my joy.
I also choose to speak only good and positive over my life, and the lives of others. This was a hard habit to gain. I think we all say things like "I am so stressed" in the heat of a trying moment. But I find that I am less stressed when I change my inner dialog to something like "It is going to be okay" or "Just hold on, this moment will pass". It is MY inner dialog I can say to myself whatever I want to. I choose to steer my inner dialog toward my joy instead of my decline.
I am pretty young, only 35. So maybe I am naive in thinking I have a choice in my emotional status. The way I see it, I spent many years choosing to be miserable, depressed and lonely, and I did a good job at that. Being unhappy is a hard way to live. So far this has already been easier.

What I Know About: Riding out the Storms

By. Jennifer Texada

No matter how good you try to be, no matter how much as you may pray and no matter how you may be blessed you may feel there are always times in life where things are exactly going as expected.

For me this week it was a terribly high and unexpected car repair bill, a negative experience with my former spouse, then my furniture was not shipped or delivered the way I expected. Then on top of that I had to move into a smaller office at work, one of my new neighbors got their house broken into and I dropped my groceries all over the floor and broke a newly purchased carton of eggs (and as I already mentioned my money is tight)

So as a woman of faith how am I dealing? How am I in the midst’s of disappointment continuing to stay in faith and good spirits?

I am following my own advice.

First, God never said that there would not be storms, he said in the storms that is when you should really lean on him.

Second, I am trying in this storm to listen more carefully to what He is trying to tell me?

In the past, every time I have had one of these experiences I have come out smarter, more experienced, more polished. I equated to a diamond or a tumbled stone. A diamond has to be pressed hard, under intense pressure and heated evenly for years within a lump of coal to get the shine and value that it has. Maybe all of this pressure and heat is for a reason.

Maybe what I gain will be tantamount to the value and shine of a diamond.

I want to cry. I want to swear. I want to figure out my own way out of these circumstances. But what I will do is pump up the music pray until I can't pray anymore and walk slowly and carefully through this time of trial with an expectation that He will not only steer me out of this season un-scarred but let me find myself on the other side wiser and better off than I was when I first met the disappointments.