Wednesday, April 7, 2010

FRUSTRATION therapy


I love my oldest daughter.  She is smart and witty.  She is fun to hang out with.  She is not, however, a neat freak.  Not. Even. Close.  On any given day you can walk into her room and it will look like this.  That basket of clothes on the floor?  Um, not dirty.  They are clean.  And they were (past tense) folded when I handed the basket off to her.  Sigh.  I could get mad.  I have in the past.  Yelling might have occurred.  But yesterday, she was at school and  I just didn't have it in me to get angry.  Sure, my pulse was raised and my blood pressure probably was too, but I walked away. 

As I was picking up the family room, I spotted something Meghan got in her Easter basket.  It's called Crayola Color Explosion.  I thought I would try it out and it's pretty fun.  The markers are clear, but when you draw with them, they expose the patterned paper underneath.   Before I knew it, I was breathing normally and in a much calmer state of mind.  I took my pretty drawing back up to Meg's room so she'd have something nice to look at when she got home from school.

 
Hey, it beats drinking at 10 in the morning.  And though I have not confirmed, sources say the basket of clothes were put away yesterday afternoon.  Little victories.

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