In which Bryce's diet takes a turn for the worse
This morning, Little and I sneaked into our bedroom to ask if Bryce was ready to get up or not and found a few bright blue earplugs (life savers for him when sharing a room with Little) strewn about the room. I vaguely wondered at this as we pussy-footed through the room, but when we got to the bed my curiosity was piqued. Sitting next to Bryce on the bed was an ear plug that looked as though it had been eaten by either a dog, or a very thorough rodent, and short of said dog shimmying silently through the second floor window and back out again, there was no way to get into the room, thus creating the mystery. I picked it up and looked at it for a minute before Bryce said in his groggy half awake voice, "I ate my earplug."
I was dying laughing as he explained that sometime during the night his subconscious self had plopped the earplug into his mouth and he had been chewing it all night. When he woke up the morning spitting out bits of bright blue rubbery foam, it was quite the shock. I think law school has brought his sleep antics to a whole new level.
(Christmas post to follow)
Hello... my name is Haley and I'm a Stress-aholic.
I sort of hit a wall a while back and realized that my strange addiction to stress needed to stop lest I end up agoraphobic, if not in a padded white room. Luckily, I have a wonderful husband who acts as a resident therapist and tells me when I'm completely nutty and lets me talk it out until we're both exhausted, not to mention helping me set up parameters to keep myself in check, but following those parameters is growing increasingly challenging the more holidays we go through.
Admittedly, it is ridiculous to be addicted to stress and as with most of my silly, self-created issues, I wish I weren't so serious about it, but I mean it quite literally. I don't know when, but somehow stress stopped being a symptom and started being an outlet. Problem being that it has the unfortunate side effect of making me crazy. Seriously. Ridiculous. My sister and I were talking about it a while back and she told me something that stuck with me: "You are way too careful with your laundry, so you ruin it."
Let me explain... Ever since I started doing my own laundry it has been a cardinal sin in my family for anyone other than myself to do it. Reason being that I am ridiculously careful about following instructions/overly caring for most of my articles of clothing. Yet somehow, inexplicably it always gets ruined anyway. It is a mystery of epic proportion how this happens all the time. But happen it does. And granted, I'm not as careful as I once was (a necessity of motherhood I suppose), but I'm still careful, and it still gets ruined.
So, when my sister said, "Haley, you do this with everything. You are way too careful with your laundry, so you ruin it," we of course started laughing immediately because she almost accidentally stumbled upon a very effective mantra for my life. I spend my time worrying and fretting about something going wrong, making endless lists of possibilities, and doing everything humanly possible to avoid them and then they happen anyway (and sometimes because I spent so much effort trying to avoid it). Even if there isn't something legitimate to worry about, rest assured, I can find something. In short, it's a never ending cycle of stress. Hence the need to do something about it.
And now... back to the point: At this time of year when stress is a staple and making lists is fully sanctioned, I am having a backslide, an extinction burst if you will. Blech. I love Christmas, I do, but it turns out it is a challenge for a recovering stress-aholic.
That said, Hooray! for Christmas. I love this season and if I remind myself enough of why we have it, my stresses don't matter one bit. I'm totally not scrooging Christmas; in fact this year I sort of get two Christmases as we're headed to the Lowders for a fun-filled, stress free, three-week Christmas extravaganza, but we don't want to bring our gifts for each other, so we are having a pre-Christmas, and a real Christmas when we get to California. I couldn't be more excited.
Or more stressed.
And now... back to the point: At this time of year when stress is a staple and making lists is fully sanctioned, I am having a backslide, an extinction burst if you will. Blech. I love Christmas, I do, but it turns out it is a challenge for a recovering stress-aholic.
That said, Hooray! for Christmas. I love this season and if I remind myself enough of why we have it, my stresses don't matter one bit. I'm totally not scrooging Christmas; in fact this year I sort of get two Christmases as we're headed to the Lowders for a fun-filled, stress free, three-week Christmas extravaganza, but we don't want to bring our gifts for each other, so we are having a pre-Christmas, and a real Christmas when we get to California. I couldn't be more excited.
Or more stressed.
I have officially done it
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
