CONFESSIONS OF A FACEBOOK FAILURE: Year 2
Day 16: So the other day, while taxiing the troops to too many to dos, I had the audacity to attempt a conversation with an actual adult. Not surprisingly, mid-sentence, I was forced to turn around and demand the impossible ideal of silence.
“Excuse me! I need you to be quiet for a moment, Honey. I’m talking. “
Not a surprising scenario.
What was surprising was that at that unheard of moment in history, my children actually were quiet.
No, today, my desperate demand for a “me moment” was not actually directed at my trio of typical noise boxes, as they were uncharacteristically…quiet?
So, who WAS the honey I hushed?
Static.
As the lull of the radio switched over to unexpected static, my brain began to produce the automatic response mechanism often characterized by “Uh, huh. Yeah. I’m listening” (when listening is actually way, WAY down on your list of allocated areas of brain usage, far below the demands of “What is for dinner?”, “Wait. What did I even feed them for lunch?”, “Oh no! Did I even remember to feed them lunch?”), or “Go ask Daddy” (when you don’t even have the brain capacity left to provide the enthusiasm of the classic “Uh huh”).
I heard static, my brain heard the demand that comes from the noise that comes (continuously) from my kids, and a neurological survival response was submitted for a request for silence.
I called the static honey…and politely asked it to please…shut…up.
At least I still have enough brain capacity left to realize that
I have officially lost my mind!
But in the spirit of my long dead Grateful 365 Project, I have decided to switch my shame to celebration, in an attempt to laugh and learn and embrace the ugly.
Grateful 365: My children were so stunned by the request for static silence (and perhaps a bit fearful of my mental state), that they too (although perhaps unintentionally) followed my request for quiet…at least for a good solid second.
A year ago, I decided to switch out my selfies for shame, in an attempt to change the face of this fiction. So in the spirit of giving, I am gifting y’all once again with a daily dose of self-esteem, in knowing that no matter how bad it gets, mine is probably way worse. I hope you enjoy diving into my daily, dirty little secrets this December.
If you can relate, please LIKE, or SHARE, or FOLLOW, or read some more.
Help me avoid the morning-after-writer’s-remorse that wells from the paranoia of my signature self-shaming, by giving me your virtual nod and smile, and I will promise to divulge deeper despairs in days to come.