Friday, June 25, 2010

A confession:

I have a hard time believing people mean what they say. Usually, it's because they don't. For example, "I don't have time to do..." really means, "I'm not willing to use the time I have to do..." Not framing the statement like the latter is being dishonest with oneself. Also, I find that even if people do mean what they say, it sometimes doesn't stand up to scrutiny, so I get so distracted by wondering if the person speaking to me has ever actually reasoned through what they're saying that I completely throw out the information they've given me. (Or I believe them and then proceed to curl up into a ball in another room.)

I'm not sure if any of this makes sense. But what it comes down to (for me) is that I do things myself: I'm a busybody. (Not a control freak) If something needs to be done, and I'm able to do it, I do it. I don't ask for help. I just figure out a way to do it as simply and efficiently as possible, then git 'er dun.

A natural consequence of this is that I take comments about what I've done personally - as criticism, even though they're not meant that way. Case in point: I recently began organizing a garage sale at our church. I had a vision of a grand event, packed so full of families that we'd have to sell our items outside so that kids could do crafts and have snacks inside. In July. In Texas. When people began to suggest we move the sale indoors, I took it personally at first. (After all, why didn't they just volunteer to help instead, then contribute their ideas?) Eventually, I came around and was able to get approval to have the sale indoors, but not before I had to nurse some unintentional wounds to my ego.

Cuz that's the kind of girl I am.

Don't get me wrong here. I don't do everything all by my lonesome in my own house. Hubby has an equal stake in caring for the boys and some amount of housecleaning. But when friends (or sometimes my Mommy) "suggest" I do things differently without knowing or caring about the rationale behind the way I'm already doing them, I shrink a little.

Hard to imagine, I know.

In other news, why is my little one awake after merely a half hour of dozing?

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