(Note: This was started a few days ago before my head cold turned into a chest cold and my brain checked out. I believe it is beginning to revive, but I didn't want to go and change everything date-wise that I had already written. So keep in mind that I didn't actually start this post this morning, just finished it.)
I was up early this morning, keeping up with my teenager driving herself to practice (thankfully still able to stay in bed), trying to wake up with what I am sure will be my first, not only, cup of coffee today. I was catching up on a few blogs I follow and came upon one of Emily Freeman's posts
about living small
(She seems to be a theme this week for me. See yesterday's post).
Anyway, it got me thinking about living small. Versus living big. How do we exactly do that? My mind went to things I thought would be living big for me- I came to the conclusion that living big for me would be trying to do things and be someone that wasn't me. I am not referring to things that The Lord leads us to do out of our comfort zone. But trying to do those things that just aren't who He made me to be.
Then I started thinking- who am I? What am I like? What are my strengths, etc? And, I should add...at this stage in life. After all, we do shift and change, become wiser, etc.
Sometimes it's easier to start with who I am not, so I am going to start there. Don't worry- this isn't a deep philosophical thing, just a thought thing. Then for fun, I'll go next time with who I am, then who I want to be.
So, who (or what) I am not....
1. I am not Type A. At all. And as is typical, God has a great sense of humor. I was raised by one, married to one, gave birth to a couple with those traits, am good friends with a few. Yeah, it can be pretty bad and funny all at the same time. So many of the other things I am not fall under this category that I am going to add a couple of subpoints to this one-
- I am not detail oriented. Generalities are perfectly okay with me. Ketchup goes in the fridge- does it really matter what shelf it goes on? Dishes go in the dishwasher, but is it a requirement that they have to go in a certain place in a certain way?
- I am not organized. Well, I am in my own way. I can generally tell you where something is, but I cannot necessarily describe in detail where it is (see subpoint above). Add to this my dear friend who organizes peoples house for pay. And my other dear friend who actually enjoys organizing her file cabinets each January, and color codes her clothes in her closet.
2. I am not a fruit person. I am not fond of fruit. I will occasionally have a strawberry, a grape or two, a slice or two of apple, but for the most part, I bypass the fruit for the veggies. Now, don't even get me started on fruity desserts. Really, why ruin a good thing such a dessert with fruit? My grandfather would always buy those chocolate oranges at Christmas. Blech.
3. I cannot iron. I really don't even try anymore. The other day I actually had to iron. I had the tv on just to pass the time (cause really folks it takes me a long time to iron). Afterwards I plopped on my bed exhausted to finish watching whatever it is I was watching and David came in and asked what I was doing. I told him that I had ironed. He laughed, but said nothing because he totally understands. You see, it all started long long ago. My mother, rightly so as her role of training me to be a homemaker, had me iron. Alot. To get good practice. For any of you who do iron, you realize that it is a detailed process, what with pleats, cuffs, button holes, seams, etc. And we all know how I am about details. But, I really did work at it. I promise. But to no avail. Fast forward to our early years of marriage. My preface in this is that I married a detailed man whose grandmother used a can of starch a day. Seriously. Blue jeans, undershirts, you name it - it was ironed. One day, My Man needed a shirt ironed. I decided to bless him in that task and iron it for him so he wouldn't have to do it. I worked, I starched, I pressed. For about 30-40 minutes. Yes, seriously. It takes me a long time. I iron wrinkles into wrinkles. So, I worked and proudly hung the freshly pressed shirt on the laundry room door. He came home, walked down the hall, saw the shirt and commented (probably unaware of my slaving away on it) that he would need to touch it up before he wore it. Enough said. I quit that day. And really folks, a fluff in the dryer can do just as well.
4. I do not like to be tickled. When I was young, I vividly remember having tickle sessions with my dad. This is how it would go. "Daddy, will you tickle me?" "No, because you always cry". "I promise I won't this time, Daddy." "Ok". Tickle, Tickle, Tickle. Sobbing..."Daddy, stop, stop tickling". My entire family knows that they take their life in their own hands if they try to tickle me. I have been freed from the responsibility of my actions when I am tickled because a vicious monster comes out of and I will defend myself at all cost. I will not say whether I have actually wounded any of my family members in such episodes, but will say they rarely try it anymore.
5. I am not a planner by nature. I really enjoy things most when they are spur of the moment, spontaneous moments of joy, fun, etc. Unfortunately it is hard to run a household, homeschool, etc without planning. I do my best and realize that some level of planning is necessary for some things, but still relish in the spontaneity when it happens. Maybe it is because when things are planned, there is some level where the planning doesn't work out, then I am disappointed when something doesn't happen? Some sense of failure when things don't go like I planned? Hmmm, something to think about for sure.
6. I do not like shopping. I really don't. For someone who is not detail-oriented the details totally overwhelm me. Does it fit? Is it the right color? Can I find this cheaper somewhere else? Will it be on sale soon? Do I really need it? Does it break the budget? What are the ingredients? Is that healthy? But is it convenient? Do I have this already? etc. Whenever my other faults are glaring throughout the day, I am quick to remind My Man that he should be thankful that the details overwhelm me as it saves him a whole lot of money. Deep down he knows it is true.
7. I can't work buttons, as in buttons for electronic gadgets and things. This is a recent discovery, one that now that I am aware, I feel free. A situation occurred recently that made me more aware of this in my life and had me
deeply thinking about this deficiency in my life, and I discovered it was just buttons all together. You see, I cannot work a stopwatch. This can be somewhat of a problem when your kids are swimmers. For years I tried to convince people that I couldn't do it. My kids had one and would want me to time them running across the yard, living room, holding their breath, whatever. And I really struggled. When I would mention this to people who asked me to time, they would be so encouraging and tell me that I would get it. It's easy. So finally, I caved and began timing. And now, I am officially banned from timing at swim meets. The day after my last timing adventure was daylight savings time. After I spent about 15 minutes trying to change the time on my watch then finally giving it to my son to fix for me, I realized maybe it is just buttons. When I turn on the windshield wipers, I couldn't begin to tell you off hand which direction to switch it. I just keep switching until it turns off. My watch... I just push buttons until it does what I want. The timer on my iphone....can't work that either. I tried from the bleachers at the last meet. Completely turning off my phone, as in restarting it....yep, David is always having to remind me how to do it. He does it with a loving and understanding
smirk smile on his face. (Mentally I keep referring back to my first point...really people, it defines who I am not...details, details.)
And in one last effort to show you who I am not, I will grace you with this picture. This is definitely who I am not. Ha. But, it sure is fun.....