I was raised by a sassy mom and a sedate dad. As a child, I behaved more like my father, but now, as a mother of five, I behave much like my snarky mom. My grandmother exposed me to British comedies...nice and dry. I adore sarcasm. More than one past relationship disintegrated due to my partner's lack of ability to handle constant sarcasm and cynicism. Unfortunately, I am getting flooded by negativity as an adult and "sarcasm" is not the life raft I expected. My attitude MUST change!
I read a great article by Mary Vance. The article has 5 steps toward having a happier outlook. Although these methods are nothing new, it is always good to be reminded about how your attitude can damage (or strengthen) your wellness. I regularly perform the first suggestion in the article - the gratitude list. I write down three things that I am thankful for.
Today I am thankful for:
- My great-aunt who is in town to help my grandmother after surgery!
- My backyard which is fenced in and large enough for an above ground pool, BIG garden, shed, trees and play space for 5 kids and 2 dogs.
- My seed collection - The last time I planned a garden curriculum for my students, they were in first grade and totally uninterested. Now they are in fourth grade and ready to handle more gardening responsibility on their own. I'll be planning a spring curriculum around the garden again!
I am thankful for much, much more. People don't usually realize how much they have to be thankful for. You can go basic...air, water, shelter. You can go specific...my recliner, The Biggest Loser, tortillas. The point is, look at all these things you have to be happy about...cheer up! Look at what you've got, not what you don't have!
I've always felt so lame making a vision board. I act like I'm ashamed of my interests, passions and good memories. Like I want to hide what makes me happy. What a pointless habit. A disgusting waste of energy too.
I'm working on creating a vision board on my computer desktop. It shows random pictures of past events and memories that make me happy and/or motivate me. I'm about half done with it. I add a picture here and there when I have a spare minute.
I'm also considering a photo album. Real, hard copies of photos are SO much better than cropped, shrunk images, collaged onto an icon-crowded desktop. The feel of a photo has a "macaroni and cheese" effect on me. Comfort food.
I seek the comfort of prints when all else fails. And it works. I'll see one of those photos, all by itself and not part of a busy collage. That photo will make me smile. That memory becomes more tangible when I hold a picture in my hand. The moment captured becomes more real, more intimate.
I often forget the amazing adventures I have been on. Usually I'm too caught up worrying about the things I haven't done. Waste of time and effort. More positive moments are available in photo form to remind me of the thrill of whitewater rafting. Camping trips. That crazy, high train trestle I walked across. Disneyworld. The beach. Sweet family moments. Friends. Family. Connections.
I'll admit I eat like an American. I've had too much fast food, red meat, soda, and processed food-like product. I am quite disturbed by the American "white is better" theory. White flour, white sugar, white rice. Food racism. What a curse!
Let's not forget that our public schools implemented these bleached out products just as often as our poor families; at a private school I attended we were given Subway, McDonald's, Taco Bell and Pizza Hut every week. They bought the hype. Convenience won over health.
I was a fairly healthy person through my first pregnancies. In between pregnancies I would progressively get back into my soda addiction. My worst soda habit is Red Bull. They are my equivalent to cigarettes (thank goodness I don't smoke). I usually plateau at a gallon of red bull a day. Not water. No water. Sugar, caffeine and majorly too much B-complex.
My last pregnancy I was diagnosed with a heart murmur and mitral valve prolapse. I got to wear a heart monitor all day and night (except in the shower) for a month of that pregnancy. I have no way to prove it was the red bull. I have no reason to believe it was anything else. That pregnancy ended almost three weeks early when I showed up at the hospital vomiting uncontrollably. I was in labor and my liver was failing. I had an emergency C-section. We all came out alive. If I hadn't gone the hospital that morning, I wouldn't be typing the same (or any) story.
After I finished breastfeeding, I hopped back on the red bull train. My youngest will be 17 months soon. Most days I drink 48-64 ounces of that vial concoction. I'm not sure why I drink something that makes me hot and angry. I'm not sure why I drink something that depletes my appetite and causes major diarrhea. I honestly think it is a subconscious desire to have something. Something I thought I could control.
I'll never have a perfect heart again. I've done irreversible damage. My liver is always going to be slightly wonky due to a genetic condition I carry; also my lungs are less durable from that condition. I still expect to live a long enough life to meet my grandchildren. I want to be at my great-grandkids births. I want to have enough time on this planet to spread positive energy to others. I must change my lifestyle.
