Dad: "Sometimes I wonder how much longer I can take this",
as Tia is chattering nonstop at about 100mph.
Tia: "Who, me? You'll make it, you only have four years left. And plus ...
Mom says she wants to keep me forever!"
Last night I hit the chair with a blanket at 8:10 pm and then I moved to my bed at 10ish.
Guess that sums up yesterday!
Today I was off and did a little something around here.
I also came up with several plans.
From now on (remind me, would you please?) when we paint a room, I am going to save and label a small container of paint for patching up things. The tan in the living room and dining room is gone. What was left has been mixed with other stuff and used elsewhere. Ugh. I managed the rest of the color patching today. Now I need to peel off a piece of paint and go color match it this weekend.
And, no, we are not going to use the color match app on the iphone. I fear it might be off.
That would spell disaster.
The mud room floor got a fresh coat of color today. I just love red.
The smell? It wasn't the same stuff we used before. Who knows where this stuff came from.
It is so bad that I'm surprised Duke isn't walking around in circles howling.
The other plan.
I need to quit worrying.
I was even looking online for things to help in that department last night.
I did find one thing and am going to try it.
A notebook or journal to write down the worries.
If a person writes them down with the intention of addressing them later, the brain is faked out into thinking you will actually go back to them. Whether you do or not doesn't matter. The brain thinks you will. Hence, you stop worrying about that particular thing because you've already taken care of it.
Consciously I know that I am worrying about things I have no control over. They aren't anything that is in my hands.
My worry seems centered around my kids lately.
Although I know that never ends until the day I die, it really doesn't need to be consuming quite so much of my energy .. especially when I can't do anything about it!
If you have any hints or tips ... I'd love to hear them.
And, Mom, please don't tell me it is a genetic predisposition. I already know that. :)