It’s such an odd feeling when your children surpass you in wisdom. Well, okay, maybe wisdom isn’t the right word. Maybe they know you so well that they kindly suggest your behavior isn’t in your best interest, thereby causing you to slap your head and wonder why you didn’t realize you were about to drive into a lake because the GPS device said to do it, or to buy the cassette player on clearance.
My daughter sent me a cheerful email this morning and nailed me on my genetically-caused inability to form the word, “no.†It has to be genetics, right? I mean otherwise I’m responsible for doing things I don’t want to do, but do anyway to be nice.
Don’t even get me started on the recent list of activities I’ve been part of when in fact I need to be working on my Master’s Capstone Project. Saying “no†is just so freak’n hard. I hate the look of disappointment on people’s faces, and besides, that Lutheran voice in my head saying I should give more, be more, do more, won’t stop talking at me.
My daughter suggested I start practicing saying the word “no†on little things, and then build my way up to the big ones that derail me. “No, I don’t want to squeeze the toothpaste only from the very bottom of the tube.â€Â Hmmm. That wasn’t too hard. What’s next?
So, if you are someone dear to me, and have never heard me say no to you in the past, be prepared. I’m working on a better, saner, me.
Having adult children willing to say the things I need to hear? Definitely the best part of my day.
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