You would have thought after 14 years of parenthood, I would be a more flexible person.
No I don’t mean in the literal sense. Seriously, what my children have done to my hips has left me with little flexibility.
When I’m talking about flexibility I’m referring to that good old-fashioned, you think your day is going to turn out one way and by the end it has taken a whole new direction. That personal flexibility that lets you roll with the punches of life instead of freaking out.
I often freak out. I try not too, but it doesn’t always work.
Flexibility is one area I have struggled with for most of my life. I admit that freely as I now see that same rigidity in my own daughter. It had to have come from somewhere right? Once an event is envisioned in going way I have a very hard time shifting gears if something should get in the way of things playing out the way I thought they would.
I am happily sitting here trying to write this post, pondering how far I’ve come in my level of personal flexibility. My eldest daughter took some photos on my phone today that she feels she simply MUST have. The badgering begins.
“Mom! remember I want those photos so I can get them up on Facebook.” She only asked for them two hours ago, but I haven’t gotten to it yet.
I holler that I’ll get to them, internally cursing the interruption. I continue pondering and typing.
A few minutes later, “Mom!!!! I don’t have an email from you yet. I really want those photos.”
What I WANT to do is formulate this post. The photos for it are ready and I want to get the writing done. My response? I open my email, try to upload all of the photos at once and then go back to typing.
My dear daughter has now given up waiting and comes to my office wondering what the hold up is. Shocker when I reluctantly leave my typing to see what the problem is. I know I shouldn’t be shocked to see that it failed because the photos exceeded the upload amount. Grrrrrrr.
I’m frustrated. This was NOT how I saw this post coming together. I’ve been interrupted multiple times and I really just want to write. BUT I begrudgingly try to do the process again, this time uploading a few photos at a time. My daughter offers to take my phone and just do it herself, but of course it’s plugged into the computer so I can back it up before the big IOS 7 update. I respond – no, snap back that I will just deal with it.
Her response, “No Mom, I got it. This is obviously causing you distress.”
And there it is! Despite all of my awareness about personal rigidity, I really haven’t come that far. This minor interruption still managed to annoy me. I almost had to laugh at loud at the stark reality.
A reality that resulted in me going back and retyping the entire beginning to this post. Who was I kidding!!! I’m not flexible I’m just a control freak who is trying to bob and weave with the ebb and flow of life. Often I find myself fighting it and by the time I realize what I’m doing, my metaphorical boat is full of water and I feel like I’m sinking.
I had started out wanting to profess how far I had come in my personal level of flexibility. My photos were reflective of the fact that in our busy family life I often have a meal plan in mind, but many times end up preparing something completely different. Last night was supposed to be Indian Butter Chicken, but instead the girls and I got home late, my husband wasn’t going to make it home for supper at all and my eldest had ortho work so scrambled eggs just made sense.
Oooooooo, ahhhhhhh, let’s all bask in the amazingness of my flexibility. It seems laughable now, so I suppose I can write a little tongue in cheek.
So to all you control freaks out there, if you have any words of wisdom on attaining flexibility without sinking your metaphorical boat I’m open to hearing them.
Apparently, I still have a long way to go.