Mamagirl… says it all…

Just a Mama's musings…

I’m a worrier August 25, 2012

Filed under: Humor,Musings — mamagirlsaysitall @ 10:38 am
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Mamagirl says…

Remember this guy? Maybe he was a major influence…

I’m a worry wart. I worry about everything. No seriously, everything. I worry about whether or not my kids are having a good day at school (especially if our morning didn’t go so well). I worry about money (who doesn’t?). I worry about the economy, and for the past several months I’ve been exceedingly worried about the decline of women’s reproductive rights. I worry about my gay friends and whether or not they will have the same rights that I have. I worry about the decisions that we are collectively making to put people into office who clearly do not represent us. I worry about my grades. I worry about the impression that I make on my teachers. I worry about my friends and the things going on in their lives. I worry about their children. I worry about my Mama’s broken ankle and whether or not it’s going to heal well.  I worry about what other people think. And then, I worry about the fact that I even allowed someone else’s impression into my mind. Are we clear? I worry. A lot.

 

 

 

Sometimes, my worrying makes me angry. Example: I see a dangerous situation on the road and I

Exactly!

start to get worried about the people who might get in a wreck. Then, I get mad that I have to be worried about these people that I don’t know because some other jackass, that I don’t know, is being dangerous. That’s not my damn responsibility! I do realize that my worrying has no effect whatsoever on anyone other than me. Whether I worry about it or not, those people on the road either are going to get in a wreck or they’re not. My worrying is not going to stop the wreck from happening. Neither are the cuss words that I am undoubtedly slinging through the windshield.

So, it seems that the practical answer to this conundrum would be to stop worrying about strangers in cars on the interstate, right? I can’t. I’ve tried. Really, I have. I just can’t. Somehow it makes me feel less human. Like I don’t have a heart. Like maybe if I just worry hard enough, or cuss them out enough, they’ll figure out that they’re all a bunch of jackasses anyway and settle down and act right. Do I really believe that my worrying will ever have that type of tangible positive effect? Of course not. I’m not delusional. But I just can’t be one of those people. I know that they are out there. People who truly don’t care about anyone other than themselves. I’ve met them. You’ve met them. They do exist.

Easier said than done, but who can argue with Abe Lincoln?

 

 

I can’t be that. I do care about people, and therefore I worry about them, whether I know them or not. True, it isn’t the healthiest of habits to have. But if a stressful tummy keeps me feeling more human, then I guess it’s a fair trade. Don’t you think?

 

Sharpen up your reasoning skills August 12, 2012

Filed under: Family,Humor,Parenting — mamagirlsaysitall @ 2:30 pm
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MamaGirl says…

I may not be the brightest Crayon in the box, but I’m no dummy either. And luckily for them, both of my children take after me in that aspect. Unluckily for me however, is the fact that both of my children take after me in that aspect.

The big one is almost 12, and he’s getting pretty darn good at reasoning and logic. I can’t deny it. The other day, Mags was getting in trouble for something, now I don’t remember what, probably being mean to her brother. And I was in the middle of yelling up the stairs that she better not come out of her room again until I said so, and since I was on a yelling roll and he happened to be the next target in my line of sight, I turned to A-Man and yelled at him too, to go get himself dressed or something else equally ridiculous that he didn’t deserve to be yelled at about, when he hits me with:

“Just because you’re pissed off with Mags doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me.”

I tell you, readers, it stopped me dead in my tracks. I turned, and looked at him. And then, I couldn’t help it, a smile cracked across my face. He got me. He was absolutely right. I wasn’t even mad with him. I was just on a roll yelling. I smiled. He smiled. And as he passed by me, on his way to go do what I told him too anyway (he really is a good kid), I swatted him lightly on the butt and told him not to say “pissed off” to me.

It was a shared moment. He got me, and he knew it, and I knew it too. And all I could do was smile. He out-reasoned me. He defeated my moment of anger with logic. And damn it, I was proud of him. Way to go, kiddo. That’s exactly what I want him to learn, even though I’m not always sure that I’m capable of teaching it to him. You combat anger with logic. You combat frustration with reasoning. It’ll damn sure take down Mom in a quick minute.

Do I want him to employ this new-found tool against me regularly? Well, honestly, no. But the truth

Better sharpen those skills!

of the matter is, he’s growing up. He’s learning things about how to handle the world, and the bat-shit crazy inhabitants in it. These are important skills to have.

I’m glad that school’s starting back in a week though, because it looks like I need to sharpen up my reasoning skills.

 

“Make it shine like the top of the Chrysler building!” August 10, 2012

Filed under: Family,Humor,Parenting — mamagirlsaysitall @ 1:42 pm
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MamaGirl says…

“Y’all gone make me lose my mind, up in here, up in here.”

Hey world, guess what? Yep, you guessed it, my children are driving me out of my mind this morning. They cannot manage to get along, no matter what they do. War-Mongering Savages, I tell you! When at last, I reached my limit of the number of times that I was willing to say “Talk nicer to each other. Don’t be so mean,” I decided it was time to put a stop to the bickering and put the kids to work.

At my house, when Mama gets tired of being the referee for their multitudes of screaming matches,

It’s a hard-knock life for them.

it’s time to go to work. They act like I treat them like Annie, but I tell you this, my house don’t “shine like the top of the Chrysler building!” Obviously, I’m not putting this particular “punishment” to use quite enough.

So anyway, when I’d had enough, there was a bellow of, “That’s IT! I’ve heard all of the arguing that I’m going to hear! Turn off that game and get to work!”

The little one burst into tears at the prospect of having to clean up her own mess. The big one attempted to reason with me, but seeing as the logic of “Yes, you really do have to help keep the house clean, you do live here after all,” was on my side, he ended up defeated in his reasoning attempt and flopped down, angrily, on his bed. So, we had to get over the insult of actually being expected to do something before we could start on the work. BUT, 45 minutes later, and my living room is in much better shape than it started.

Mom – 1

Kids – 0

 

 
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