Oh the humanness!
Today I am grateful for a good run and time to myself yesterday afternoon, along with good tunes on my radio. I am also grateful for coffee . . . the smell of it brewing, the taste, the morning it welcomes.
I am grateful for the connections I have with other women in recovery. They help me so much.
Yesterday morning my humanness was in true form. I handled frustration in flawed fashion, like a good human will do from time to time. My son Sam had put himself in a frustrating situation by locking himself out of his iPod. He did this later Friday afternoon, and was upset and frustrated by the predicament. (Though I felt it necessary to remind him of his part a couple more times.) He weathered it pretty well Friday evening and took a break. But Saturday morning, he was itching for a solution, and I was itching to get some stuff done that I had been hoping to get to all week. I was also itching to get my workout in. Too many itches to scratch all at once.
Sam and I are alike in many respects and that includes our tempers and our level of sensitivity. This is where I exhibited my humanness in the form I would rather not admit I have-harsh, selfish, and impatient.He matched me too. My husband had to remind me that "he's 11." And we started to make some progress toward a solution. With computer support, Apple tech support over the phone, and time he eventually got his iPod restored. I left while things were still downloading, so Darcy got in on helping out with the process too.
And what I like to call God's sense of humor came through. I was edgy and frustrated trying to help Sam partly because I had hoped to get a morning workout in too and it wasn't happening. I had planned to exercise indoors because we got a little snow/sleet overnight and some refreezing. I didn't want to risk it outside. As the morning wore on, the temperature warmed enough and I ended up being able to run outside in the afternoon. It was great to be out there in the fresh air and sunshine. I would have missed that if my morning had gone the way I planned it.
As the saying goes: If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him (or Her) your plans.
I appreciate the lessons my son helps teach me.
I am grateful for the connections I have with other women in recovery. They help me so much.
Yesterday morning my humanness was in true form. I handled frustration in flawed fashion, like a good human will do from time to time. My son Sam had put himself in a frustrating situation by locking himself out of his iPod. He did this later Friday afternoon, and was upset and frustrated by the predicament. (Though I felt it necessary to remind him of his part a couple more times.) He weathered it pretty well Friday evening and took a break. But Saturday morning, he was itching for a solution, and I was itching to get some stuff done that I had been hoping to get to all week. I was also itching to get my workout in. Too many itches to scratch all at once.
Sam and I are alike in many respects and that includes our tempers and our level of sensitivity. This is where I exhibited my humanness in the form I would rather not admit I have-harsh, selfish, and impatient.He matched me too. My husband had to remind me that "he's 11." And we started to make some progress toward a solution. With computer support, Apple tech support over the phone, and time he eventually got his iPod restored. I left while things were still downloading, so Darcy got in on helping out with the process too.
And what I like to call God's sense of humor came through. I was edgy and frustrated trying to help Sam partly because I had hoped to get a morning workout in too and it wasn't happening. I had planned to exercise indoors because we got a little snow/sleet overnight and some refreezing. I didn't want to risk it outside. As the morning wore on, the temperature warmed enough and I ended up being able to run outside in the afternoon. It was great to be out there in the fresh air and sunshine. I would have missed that if my morning had gone the way I planned it.
As the saying goes: If you want to hear God laugh, tell Him (or Her) your plans.
I appreciate the lessons my son helps teach me.
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