‘Anger Hell’ Really Pisses Me Off!!!

Anger is overrated.

Anger is what we do when we’re lazy about our feelings.  When we can’t be bothered to go deeper to figure out what’s really going on inside our heads.

And it’s often not at all about what it seems to be on the surface.

But…

If….

(and it’s a really big if)

…we can catch ourselves before the ‘ROARRRRR’….

And just get curious about what’s really going on… about what’s REALLY buggin’ you…

No. No. No. Don’t fall for that. That’s just a trick your mind is playing on you to save you the effort of digging deeper. Your mind wants to stay angry, because it can’t be bothered to do the heavy lifting required to figure this out.

But if you could just ask….

“What’s going on inside my head?” 

You might just find out something your mind has been working very hard to get you to ignore.  It wants you to look on the outside, to blame someone else, something else.

I know, I know, it’s so much easier to be mad at other people, even if you don’t even remember why you’re mad.  

But if you let it, your mind will keep you in Anger Hell.  Forever. 

And that just blows.

You know, the WORST Mother can get very lazy about what’s going on inside her head.

Because, sometimes, it can look like this…

“What’s all that SH!T doing inside my head??????????????????”… the WORST mother asks, trying really hard to get curious.

“WAIT!”… she says, suddenly full of curiosity. (She’s so good at becoming curious!)

“That looks like the inside of my closet” …she will often say, completely and utterly perplexed.

“And my car”… she adds, scratching her head.

“And my make-up drawer“… she moans, curiosity giving way to frustration.

“And my frig”… she says, raising her voice, as she teeters into a pissed off state.

“And my pantry”…she exclaims with vehemence and exasperation and a whole bunch of other emotions that rhyme with discombobulation.

Ruh. Roh.  

“And my life!!!” 

“$%#@”… she explodes. So much for curiosity. (I said she was good at getting curious… staying there is another matter.)

Bless her heart. She tries. 

But then….. eventually…

Ah-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Some relief.  A letting go.

Surrender.

And suddenly, a voice inside her head breaks through all the clutter and says…

Seize the AFGO… a.k.a. 

Another. Freakin’. Growth. Opportunity.

An opportunity to shift.

To get back to curious.

To get to know yourself.

To grow up.

Seize it, dammit.

Because anger is not a very sophisticated emotion. Especially when it’s used defensively.

And it’s often just a cover up.  A catch-all emotion.  For when you can’t be bothered to get to know yourself.

Or to find out what’s really buggin’ you.

Take the time to FEEL what’s behind the anger.

Because it’s not about the dog.

Or the kids.

Or the husband.

It’s about the sh!t you say to yourself that is not very nice.  

It’s always about you.  It’s about how you hurt you.

Isn’t that perfect? 

Isn’t that such a relief?

Lose the anger.

Make friends with yourself.

Seize the AFGO.

And never settle for anger again.

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*Today’s post was brought to you by the emotions anger, frustration and all the ones that rhyme with discombobulation. 

 

Why I Suck at it SOMETIMES!

Today didn’t start off quite right.

I woke up with that feeling of not knowing where I was, who I was, or more importantly, WHY THERE WAS A MAN SLEEPING IN MY BED!

Next I heard blood curdling screams from children who were calling out for their mother– who had obviously gone AWOL.

What kind of mother does that?

AND THEN it hit me.

Followed in quick succession with….

I had awoken to a nightmare! 

I just wanted to get back under the covers and hide.

Maybe I could just stay under the covers and hide all day. Maybe all those strange people in my house would go away.

HUH?  How does that make sense?  Let Dad sleep?

Oh yes I would!

So it was that right there under the covers I had a little pity party for myself. You know how it goes…. why me?… I wish I could… why don’t they all… wouldn’t it be nice if… why can’t everything be the way I want it, whenever I want it???

I really am the WORST MOTHER, ever!

And then… I did what I knew I had to do.

I got a grip.

This is my life.  I chose it. I MADE IT just the way it was.

Sometimes I have to remind myself how much I really love it. 

“Kids!  Come to mommy!”

Next on the agenda…

Create a great day today.

I can do that.  I have the power!

Hope you create your best day today!

The Wimpiness Trap

I have decided that whenever I am feeling ‘unappreciated’, I need to let my feelings be known, calmly, and maturely.

Yes, well… my version of calmly and maturely needs some work. I would like to be able to tell you this was merely my impersonation of a teenager in the throes of a hormonal surge of sarcasm but, alas…

As I was saying…

…alas, I admit, every once in a while, I digress into a  whiny, wimpy, mess.  I guess this is one of those moments.

Remember, Peeps, this is a judgment-free zone.

Oh, what the heck, go ahead and judge away…

On a scale of one to pi, with one being ‘pathetic’ and pi being ‘la-hoo-za-her‘, how would you rank my wimpiness today? Go ahead, be brutally honest.

I concede that if I haven’t yet had my high octane Starbucks half-caff-decaff-naff-laff, I’m almost always pushin’ pi.

(You may feel that pi ought to go between the numbers 3 and 4, however I believe it belongs at the highest end of the scale because it is an irrational number.)

I know exactly when things begin to fall apart for me. When members of The Family Corp don’t do their jobs.

Let’s flip that.  I know better than that.

When I don’t do my job running The Corp.

When I don’t do my job, it sets everyone else up for failure. And it sets me up for The Wimpiness Trap, which I believe would make an excellent sequel to The Happiness Trap, which is all about taking responsibility for your own happiness.  The flip-side is to recognize and take responsibility for being wimpy.

Because wimps are wusses.

Whenever I find myself in wimp mode, I notice:

a.   The house gets messy

b.   My kids get cranky

c.   My butt looks bigger (go figure!)

In an effort to avoid The Wimpiness Trap, I run our family like a 501 c 3 corporation.

I am the CEO, COO, CFO and sometimes, the CWO. You know exactly what the last one stands for.

The Children of The Corp have assigned themselves high-level positions on the Board of Directors: Grumpy, Sleepy, Happy, and Bashful. You may recall, from a previous rant, that my children are from HD209458b, a rogue planet outside our solar system about 150 light-years from Earth in the constellation Pegasus. The key descriptive word for this planet is rogue. My resident aliens pride themselves in being non-conforming. They make promises they don’t keep. And they make no sense, even when they graduate Magna Cum Laude.

Another high-level position is held by Chewy, our so-called dog. Part Wookiee, part Grizzly Bear, he’s always positioning himself to become Pack Leader. Don’t be fooled by his 10-pound stature.

He will eat you.

Thus…

Thus…

It comes as no surprise–correction– it shocks the living daylights out of me whenever someone in The Corp tries to meddle with the corporate bylaws, which are stained with tears (mine), coffee, spaghetti sauce and Mighty Dog.

Hence…

Hence…

In order to attract attention to myself, I have called a meeting of the corporate members for this weekend. I have sent each of them copies of the agenda which includes the following items:

1. Charitable Donations (it doesn’t count to give away things you don’t need anymore)

2. Dirty Laundry (I can’t decide whether to reveal to them how it miraculously gets washed and returned to their rooms all fresh and clean–don’t want to ruin a good magic trick)

3. Food/Cooking (would it be okay if I cooked dinner  on Tuesdays instead of Thursdays?)

4. The Dog (can’t anyone else tell he needs a bath?)

5. Other Business (I have a feeling Four will request that an item called ‘Things I’d Like For Christmas’ be added to the agenda. Two has suggested we discuss what he calls ‘Unlimited Funding of Miscellaneous College Expenses’. Three has submitted a question for consideration: Am I old enough to have my own credit card? And One wants to know if she can “borrow” my favorite handbag.)

How about no, no, no and NO!

And finally,  the GP (did I not mention that Thurston’s title is Grand Poobah, which he thinks, like Chewy, trumps CEO) has proposed an item for discussion called ‘Poor Daddy’, during which, I’m certain, we’ll toss around ideas on the various ways to show him a little appreciation around here (insert eye roll here–hold for 3 seconds).

Get in line, Thursty. This is my meeting.

Note to self: Don’t forget to wear The Helmet.

The Universe Loves Me, It Really Loves Me!

I have been having an affair for some time now.

With the Universe.

Don’t worry, my husband, Thurston Howell the Fourth, knows all about it. In fact, he’s totally fine with it.  He understands and accepts that there’s no fighting a love like this!

Don’t get me wrong. I love my husband a lot. He’s the absolute best man for me on the whole planet. There’s just one thing.

He’s only human.

Still, my Thurston brought sexy back long before Justin Timberlake. And you can surely see why, right?  Is he not absolutely adorable? Incidentally, that scar on his cheek is from the time he saved me from a giant 420-pound coconut crab (a.k.a. Birgus latro), the largest anthropod in the world.  (Actually, Thurston doesn’t smoke, but I think the cigarette makes him look exactly like the Marlboro Man.  Smokin’ hot, don’t you think?) 

Did I just digress or what? It happens every time I talk about my little scarface. So, let’s get back to my love affair with the Universe, shall we? ‘Cause that thing is B-I-G!

Don’t laugh but I once wrote the Universe a love letter. I’ll share it with you. It’s kinda embarrassing but, who cares?

And guess what?  The Universe wrote me back! By email. I am not sh!ttin’ you. This is the email:

A Note from the Universe
InboxX
TUT/The UniverseX
 Reply |The Universe to theworstmother
show details Oct 5

 TWM, I can’t even remember the last time I was this excited for you over all that you’re on the verge of doing, being, and having.
Just sayin’ –
    The Universe

ps: actually, there was that one time, just before this very life began….!

I was in shock. This is a snapshot of me (taken by the Universe) at the very moment I read the note:

I was so excited. I was on the verge of something. Something big. And the Universe has known about this all along?

Even before I got here?

doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo

That’s some crazy sh!t, Batman.

And then I had this ultra cool thought:

The Universe Has My Back

Yup, the Universe has my back every second of every minute of every day. In fact, I came to realize that I didn’t have to know EVERYTHING (what a relief!).  And–I came to trust that the Universe always always knows what it is doing. After all, something that big must know what it’s doing, right?

So now, when I have a problem I can’t figure out, I just hand it over to the Universe to take care of. It’s like having a virtual assistant.

No matter how many problems I present it with, the Universe listens patiently, without judgment, while holding a great big space (pun intended) for me to dump the contents of my endless mind poop. 

Now that’s what I call having excellent listening skills.

And then, after I get everything off my chest, I just wait around.

But in a good way. I do stuff I enjoy. I don’t worry…. as much.

And without fail the Universe sends me The Answer.

Sometimes when I least expect it. 

Just like that, The Answer pops into my head. When I’m not thinking.

It’s not always the answer I would have predicted, or expected. Sometimes it’s downright bizarre. Other times I don’t like the answer. One time, the answer was simply “Yes“.  That’s it. So, I said, “yes”.  And it worked! (ps: I always know it’s the right answer because I feel it in my gut).

And that is why I am in mad love with the Universe.  It always knows what’s best for me.

Even when Especially when I don’t. 

Hey, if you want to get notes from the Universe, go here.

Have fun.

And remember, the Universe is all mine.

But we can share.

**Note back to Universe: Thanks for sending Thurston to me. He is the love of my life.

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