Well, I am embarrassed to say that I have not blogged in a couple of days because I have not really had anything positive to say. Gosh, I bet you people who thought I would hate living anywhere besides Arkansas are laughing right now.
Now, wait. Before you start saying, "I told you so," let me just say that of course I love North Carolina. I love being in a new place and seeing new things. I went to a LINKS class last week, where I met new people and that was far out. (I'm bringing that phrase back, by the way). I love that I'm so close to my favorite place ever, the ocean. I love that I am not surrounded by the invisible four walls of NEA. But have you ever had like a straight succession of days that only seem to "spit" on you, for lack of a better term?
These past few days, well actually since we started getting dumped on by Marriot, (Lord, help me to get OVER that!) I have been a little bombarded by negativity and just bad luck. Maybe that's due to the fact that I have yet to find a four-leaf clover in this state. Remember, Virginia? Yeah, I left with a zip-lock bag full of four-leafs from that gold mine.
I know it's really obnoxious to moan and complain about how badly you're being treated or how horrible things are going. I have several teenagers on my Facebook that, I swear, if they had a good day then hell must have frozen over. To think of it, there are a lot of adults like that, too.
Well, I don't like that. Being positive not only eases whatever problem you're facing, but it also keeps you from looking like a fool, regardless of the vicinity of your pants. Get it? Pants on the ground?? Ok...I don't know about you, but I would much rather someone say I have a positive attitude than label me a Sally Sulker. Who really wants to be around someone with a sour attitude all the time?
There are about five fingers pointed at me right now because for the past couple of days, I have had a really nasty attitude. We all get that way sometimes, and unfortunately, I let it get the best of me. I'm sensitive enough, but it's even more difficult when issue after issue, I find myself dealing with stressful situations.
I don't want to really delve into all of that because, after all, I'm preaching about being positive, right? But let's just say a few things haven't really gone my way and it caused me to be a little bitter.
I need to apologize to Derick because he gets the brunt of my stress. See, while you get the pleasure of reading my after-the-fact, I've-learned-my-lesson little story, Derick deals with my lashing out first hand, and props to him because he is a master at handling my tantrums.
So today after I made a bazillion pointless phone calls in hopes of securing a couple of appointments, I just started crying. It was stupid and a lot like the Kem I was years ago. Back then, I could and would cry at the drop of a hat, and if something didn't go my way, you betcha, I would be rushing the floodgates or letting loose the floodgates. How does that ridiculous saying go??
But the past couple of years, and Derick can vouch for me, I have found some weird powerful inner-strength that helps me to hold it together better. Maybe it's more because I switched birth control two years ago, but I like to say it's Girl Power or something. Don't get me wrong, I still cry easily, especially during a sad movie, or when I want attention, or when I'm around my mom and sister. But I'm not such a spaz anymore when it comes to doing whatever you do to the floodgates.
Today, though, I started crying and feeling really sorry for myself all because I called fifty doctors and Tricare three times and still couldn't get a doctor's appointment until August 31, and because I called four vets and no one would answer or return my calls and I just need to get my dog in for a check up. When you're sitting in a little house all day those small issues can seem like do or die.
And that was it. That was my problem. This little house.
No. I'm not getting sick of living here already. I don't want to move anywhere. I am more referring to the blatant fact that being boxed in can drive you crazy. Literally, like, need-to-be-admitted crazy.
So here I am, thankful to no longer be surrounded by the suffocating four walls of Arkansas, but boxing myself up in North Carolina. We finally got a second car, so I have been able to leave the house and run errands. Yesterday, I met a friend for yogurt and a quick shopping trip, which was fun. But that's not what I mean either.
When I was a kid, as soon as I crawled out of bed in the mornings, I was outside and I didn't come in until my mom walked the neighborhood and tracked me down late at night. I got so dirty and smelly, and I'm not sure that I took a bath every night, so how I grew up to be a slight germophobe, I have no idea. Most kids did that, I know, but I did that through my teen years. Summers were spent outside. Period.
When did that change? I know it's when I grew up and had to get a job, which required me to be stuck inside all summer, but I don't have a job now. I have all the time in the world, and isn't summer my favorite season? I should be outside!
I think maybe it started when people started telling me it was ok not to do anything outside because it was "too hot." However, too hot was never an excuse growing up. The hotter, the better. But it seems like the older we get, the more easy it is to use the excuse, "oh, it's too hot."
And maybe I was super naive when I was younger, but these Heat Advisories seem like a new-age thing to me. I played softball at all-day tournaments in 100+ degree weather when I was five years old, and that continued through high school. Our parents would buy big tubs and fill them with "dry ice" and ammonia and put wash rags in the tubs for us to use in the dugout. I would walk or ride my bike all over Bay, Arkansas with my friends on the hottest days of the summer. We would walk on every street in that town just to be doing something. Sure, we would spend a lot of time in the swimming pool, but I remember my friends and I always "getting warmed up" before getting in the pool. As in, playing outside until we couldn't stand the heat anymore so we had to jump in the water.
It's said that the norm is that we "get stronger with time," but I think the opposite usually happens. I feel like we get a little weaker as we age. Kids are dang tough; well, maybe not the technology-warped kids of today, but I know I was. My friends were tough, too. And I know there are some hardcore kids somewhere out there today who say, "the hotter the better." I hope my kids are like that.
So today, while sulking in my living room and slowly realizing that being inside was literally about to make me turn into a psycho, I changed into Derick's skivvy shorts (because you can get those dirty, right?) and I went outside with a plastic bag from the commissary and started pulling little sprouts out of the flowerbed. It was almost majestic (ok, maybe "majestic" isn't the word because I instantly think of those half unicorn/half man things.) I guess it was just more like God knew what I needed at that very moment. The very second I pulled up the first little weed, all the jumble going through my head, all the angry questions and frustrations built up, just vanished. All I was focused on was making the flowerbed look better. I pulled a lot of weeds and put them in the commissary bag. It was hot outside, and I was in the direct sunlight, but it felt so good to just do something besides sit in front of the TV or work out in a gym or go to a store. All of those things are great, but sometimes, we just need to hang out in the sun, instead of avoiding it by rushing inside from the cool air conditioner of our cars.
Although my flowerbed looked much better, I wasn't finished outside. I grabbed my all-too-much-of-a-house-dog and went in the back yard and sat on the swing. (I figured some sun could do Paris some good, too!) The swingset has plastic swings and my butt didn't quite fit, but it was still fun. Then, I jumped on the trampoline, and it reminded me of all those years spent on the trampoline in my backyard in Bay. Unbelievably, I never fell off of that thing, and luckily, the one in our backyard here has one of those nets (not that it would help much). It was freeing to jump and toe-touch and backhandspring, which I can still do, by the way. I kept asking myself, "Why haven't I done this more often?" It was like all of the unhelpful phone calls didn't matter. Marriot didn't matter. Nothing mattered but feeling like I was 10 years old, jump jumpery jumping without a care in the world.
I came inside to share that story with you, but I'm going back out once this blog is finished.
I don't know when I started thinking like an adult, focused on bills and appointments and cleaning and cooking. I don't know when I stopped being a kid and transitioned into this grown-up world filled with people who act so darn stupid. It's just my opinion, but I kinda feel like kids are the mature ones. They really know how to live. They don't stay mad at their friends for very long. They can find fun and joy in any place and any situation.
Once we start dealing with the responsibilities of being an adult, our entire outlook becomes warped and jaded. We start worrying about what people think of us, and upholding our status, and making sure the weekend visitors don't know that we really have a messy house through the week. We stop laughing at just nothing at all, and we have to find something to make us laugh.
Sure, it's mega important to pay the bills and get things done, but that's not everything. Having fun and just being happy where we are is also a big part of living. It's so hard as adults to just be happy and smile, but it was so dang hard not to when we were kids. Who says we have to trade in one for the other? I think we can be responsible and happy at the same time.
I don't mean to seem like I know it all when it comes to the nastiness being trapped inside all day can give someone. But I really think it's true. If you just hang out in the house all day long, rarely get out and actually DO something besides run errands and go out to eat occasionally, you're bound to be unhealthy. And I'm not talking about physical health--though it can obviously play a big role in that, too--but I'm referring to psychological health. We weren't made to be crammed into a tiny place, only to be let free when we really, really, really have no other choice. God blessed us with this beautiful world so that we would take care of it (by pulling weeds in the flowerbed. hehe...) and enjoy it. It's definitely a good thing to just go outside and explore and get the heck away from the house or the office or wherever sometimes.
When I was a kid, I always thought that grown-ups were free to do whatever they wanted, not held down by a hand of discipline or rules. I was so jealous. But I was wrong. We grow up only to hold ourselves down.
Kids are the ones who are free.
Go be a kid!
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