Anger Management

At the risk of sounding like a total hippie, there is entirely too much negativity in my life right now. I complain too much. I spend too much time being angry. Angry at the upstairs neighbors who think it's A-OK to start hammering on the floor at 7 AM on weekends and clomp around in wooden-soled shoes and hog the laundry and leave their dog to bark for hours. Angry at my job for sucking so much out of me. Angry at my daughter for running into the street, coming thisclose to getting hit by a car and then acting like it's no big deal. Angry at the cat, for being a general asshole. Angry at myself for doing and saying stupid shit you can't take back.

I need to learn to let things go, to be able to accept imperfection. From others and from me.

Last night I was painting Olivia's nailsin the living room when Dylan charged in and reported that the toilet was overflowing. I fetched a plunger, dispatched the clog and cleaned up the nasty toilet water that was all over the bathroom, threw the bathmat and towels in the laundry and finally got the kids in bed an hour after their bedtime. I was straightening up the living room when I picked up the bottle of nail polish off the coffee table, forgetting that the lid wasn't screwed on. Silver nail polish splashed down the front of my new sofa.

Instead of having a complete meltdown, I sat on the floor and thought about how glad I was that I did that and not one of the kids. Because you can't yell at yourself. You can't hurt your own feelings and then regret it later. The only thing you can do is go get the nail polish remover and hope for the best. You can say, "Whelp, guess the couch is officially broken in." And in the morning, you can sit your daughter back on the sofa and finish painting her toenails silver.

It's a start.


Hugs not slugs, Michael